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* * *
Jenna’s heart skipped a scheduled beat when Dev McGuire turned around. At some point in the last twelve hours, a startling transformation had occurred.
The heavy growth of stubble that had shadowed the angular jaw was gone, enhancing the clean lines of Dev’s chiseled features. The bright morning sunlight coaxed out hints of bronze in the sable hair that Jenna hadn’t noticed before.
In faded jeans and a dark green T-shirt that accentuated broad shoulders and muscular arms, Dev looked like a man totally at ease in his surroundings.
And way too attractive for her peace of mind.
Jenna stopped, suddenly reluctant to venture any closer.
“Look at the fish I caught, Aunt Jenna!” Logan shouted, jumping up and down on the dock like a pogo stick and pointing to a metal bucket near his feet.
“I wanna see it, too!” Tori broke free from Jenna’s hold and scampered toward her brother.
It was a conspiracy, no doubt about it.
Jenna picked her way down to the shoreline, the heels of her shoes sinking into the spongy ground with every step.
“Hurry up, Aunt Jenna!”
Aware that Dev was watching her approach, Jenna grabbed the wooden post on the end of the dock. The narrow platform jutting over the water hadn’t looked quite so precarious from a distance. As Jenna gingerly stepped onto the first section, Violet decided to join her.
The dog, marinated in lake water and coated with a fine layer of sand, lowered its shaggy head and barked at her.
Nice to see you again? Get off my property?
Jenna had no idea what Violet was attempting to communicate, but she was hesitant to take another step until she knew for sure.
“Violet, no.” Dev strode toward them. “Look out, Jenna. She’s going to—”
Shake.
That must have been the word Dev had been looking for.
If only he would have said it faster.
Chapter Four
Jenna jumped backward to avoid the shower. The heel of her shoe found a weak spot in the weathered boards and opened a space for her entire foot to go through.
She attempted to wiggle free before Dev noticed her dilemma.
“Do you need some help?”
Jenna tried not to groan.
He’d noticed her dilemma.
“I’m—”
“Fine,” Dev interrupted. “I think you made that clear yesterday. But at the moment it looks like you’re…stuck.”
Unfortunately, Jenna couldn’t argue with the assessment. She was stuck. Stuck in the kind of town she’d spent the majority of her life wanting to leave. Stuck in a cabin that let more mosquitoes in than it kept out, instead of her condo with its enclosed balcony and manicured lawn.
No dogs allowed.
But worst of all, it appeared as though Jenna was stuck with a neighbor who’d seen her in what could only be described as less than ideal—okay, humiliating—situations.
Twice.
“Don’t move—” Dev began.
Jenna moved. And winced when a jagged splinter thwarted her attempt to shake her foot free from the shoe.
Shaking his head, Dev knelt down and ignored her strangled protest.
Jenna tried to lean as far away from him as she could. But considering her foot was wedged between two boards, it wasn’t nearly far enough.
A large hand curved around her ankle. The unexpected touch caught Jenna off guard. And sent an equally unexpected jolt of electricity running through her.
“Hold still,” Dev commanded. “You’re as jumpy as a tree frog.”
A tree frog. Now there was something a girl dreamed of being compared to.
“What’s taking so long?” Jenna found her view blocked by a broad shoulder.
“I’m trying to decide which one to save. Your shoe or your foot.” Dev slanted a look at her, the amusement in his eyes a contrast to his solemn tone.
“That’s not funny.” But even as she said the words, Jenna felt a bubble of laughter rising in her chest.
What would her readers think if they saw City Girl, their favorite columnist, now? Jenna was relieved this particular moment in her life would never make it into print!
“You should think about investing in something a little more—” A gentle tug. “—practical.”
Jenna wanted to argue that this pair of shoes had been the source of inspiration for the most popular column she’d ever written.
“In the Right Pair of Shoes, A Girl Can Go Anywhere.”
“I mean, considering they’re practically stilts, I can see you get decent clearance,” Dev went on. “But they can’t possibly be comfortable.”
“They happen to be exactly right for where I live.” Jenna ignored the part about them being comfortable. “Concrete sidewalks. Foliage growing in pots. Parks with leash laws…” Her attempt to deny the humor in the situation was too much. She grinned down at him.
And Dev released her so abruptly that she almost lost her balance again. The laughter faded from his eyes.
“That might be true, but these things won’t last a week and neither—” He stopped, but Jenna knew what he’d been about to say.
Neither will you.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Jenna swished right past him on her impractical shoes.
If she wasn’t determined to do everything in her power to be back in Minneapolis as soon as possible, it would have been oh so tempting to prove the man wrong.
* * *
Dev watched his neighbor sashay down the dock and felt like a first-class jerk.
Sorry, God, but you know I don’t deal well with surprises.
Like finding out that Just Jenna had a sense of humor. Or the zap of attraction he’d felt when she cast that mischievous grin in his direction.
Dev hadn’t felt that tongue-tied since a black bear had wandered into his campsite one night and lay down on the end of his sleeping bag. While he was inside of it.
A cold nose nudged his hand and Dev looked down. Violet’s bushy eyebrows wiggled an apology.
“Only because I have to,” Dev said in a low voice. After all, it was his own fault for owning a dog the size of a skid steer. “But sit here—and try to stay out of trouble.”
Violet flopped onto her belly. Of course. Now she listened to him. Leaving the dog in an expanding pool of lake water, he went to join the group assembled at the end of the dock.
“Dev let me reel it in all by myself,” Logan was saying. The look of pride on the boy’s face made Dev smile.
“Mr. McGuire,” Jenna corrected her nephew.
“I don’t mind if they call me Dev. ‘Mr. McGuire’ is too formal for fishing buddies.” Not only that, every time Dev heard it he’d have to fight the urge to glance over his shoulder to make sure his father hadn’t materialized behind him.
Brent McGuire would have viewed a few hours of early morning fishing as a complete waste of time.
In fact, his father believed that until Dev returned to take over the helm of the family business, his entire life was being wasted. Telephone conversations had become thinly disguised lectures on duty and responsibility. His mother kept a running list of everything Dev was “missing.” It was the reason their relationship had been condensed to brief phone calls, spaced out over major holidays.
Dev didn’t regret moving to Mirror Lake. No one here cared about the gold plaque on his door or his family pedigree. The locals respected his desire for privacy and left him alone. Dev had decided it was only fair to return the favor.
His life might not be the way Dev pictured it, what he’d lost couldn’t be compared to everything he’d gained. The solitude, which in the beginning had seemed like a punishment, Dev had begun to view as a gift from God.
That’s why he couldn’t figure out why God had deposited a woman and two children practically outside his door. Especially a woman like Jenna, who looked as if she was dressed for a photo shoot and obviously preferred to see her fish breaded and served next to a side of coleslaw rather than swimming around in a bucket.
“It smells funny.” Tori, who’d pushed closer for a better view of the fish, wrinkled her nose.
For a split second, Jenna looked as if she were tempted to do the same.
Logan dismissed his little sister’s comment and looked at his aunt with a hopeful expression, waiting for her opinion.
“It’s very slimy—” Jenna caught herself. “Shiny. Very shiny.”
Logan beamed. “It’s a keeper, right, Dev?”
“That’s right.” Was it his imagination, or was Jenna looking a little, er, green around the gills?
“And I get to take it home.”
Forget-me-not blue eyes widened at Logan’s announcement.
No, definitely not his imagination.
“B-but—”
“It’s one of the rules of fishing.” Dev interrupted Jenna midsputter.
“Rules?” She gazed at him with open skepticism.
“Unwritten, of course.”
“Of course.”
“You catch it, you keep it,” Logan sang out.
“Exactly.” Dev checked a smile.
“That’s very…thoughtful…of you,” Jenna said in a tone that hinted it was just the opposite.
“Can you take a picture of it, Aunt Jenna?” Logan asked. “I want to show Mom.”
A shadow passed through Jenna’s eyes but she nodded. “Of course, but I think you should be holding the fish so she can see how big it is.”
“Can I hold it, too?” Tori wanted to know.
“I have an idea. Why don’t I take the picture and all three of you can pose with the fish?” Dev couldn’t resist.
“Okay!”
Jenna didn’t join the chorus. She sighed and pulled a slim black gadget out of her pocket, the kind that did everything but clean your house.
Dev held out his hand and she reluctantly dropped the expensive little piece of technology into his calloused palm. Dev stood patiently through the brief tutorial that followed.
“Now, how should we set this up?” Jenna squinted at the sun. “Maybe—”
“I think I can take it from here.” Dev lined up the shot. “Ready?”
Only two blond heads bobbed. In this instance, Dev went with the majority.
“Stand right there—Logan don’t drop the fish.” He took a step back and the trio came into focus. Logan with his proud, gap-toothed grin. Tori cheek to cheek with Violet, who’d managed to sneak into the frame. And Jenna, beautiful but somber.
Dev wondered what she was thinking.
She’s thinking that you’re going to drop her phone into the lake and cut off her only tie to civilization, an inner voice chided. Take the picture.
He snapped a few quick shots. “Okay, time to put the fish on a stringer so you can take him home with you.”
“His name is Fred,” Tori announced.
