“We had a family meeting.” She looks over at Rob, gratitude carved into her delicate features. “Rob and Mandy are going to drive me there in the fall and stay for a little while to help me get settled.”

My eyebrows knit together and I stare at Rob, the peacemaker. How did he get Devin to agree to this?

“It’s hard to let go of your baby, but that’s what being a parent is. You do it right, and someday your little bird’s going to leave the nest.” Rob wraps an arm around Becs’ shoulders with a proud grin. “But seeing ’em soar helps soothes the pain of not being needed.”

We all know he’s talking about Devin. He must’ve accepted that, no matter how tightly he held on, at some point Becs is going to grow up. She isn’t going to need him forever.

“I still need you guys!” Becs answers. “Who else is going to do my laundry?”

We share a light laugh until the sound of the shop bell sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. I keep my eyes on Becs and Rob, refusing to turn to see who’s joined our little party. The way Becs’ eyes go wide and Rob begins fussing with the computer tells me who it is. I take a deep breath and hold it, willing my heart to slow down and my stomach to settle. My skin prickles with terrified excitement.

“You said you were going to be gone for two hours,” Becs accuses.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Devin growls back.

I shut my eyes against the onslaught of emotion. Hearing his deep voice tears me apart. Becs grabs my hand behind the counter, where Devin can’t see, and gives an apologetic squeeze.

Wiping the pain off my face, I turn to look at him. Despite my best efforts to steel myself, I gasp at the sight. His broad shoulders, his strong arms, his trim waist. His judgmental scowl. He is a beautiful devil, existing only to torture me.

“Devin,” I call his name in a quick, detached greeting. An immobile statue, he doesn’t so much as nod.

“I’d better get going,” I tell Becs and Rob. I give them both a quick hug before I flit across the shop, moving as quick as I can without seeming like I’m running away. Devin’s still standing by the door, refusing to move. It’s impossible to leave without brushing past him, and the familiar scent of citrus and machinery makes my knees weak. I grip the door and step into the sun. I’m desperate for the safety of my car, debating sprinting across the parking lot, when I hear the sound of Devin’s boots following behind me. He reaches out and grabs my arm, taking a deep breath and holding me in place.

“That’s it?” he asks in a harsh whisper.