The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“I have my own business,” I muttered as I picked up the paperback I was reading and sat down on the stool behind the counter. I didn’t take the rare and blessedly quiet moments of free time for granted. There always seemed to be something to do, even after hours, so I had to get my reading in when I could.

The bell above the door rang, drawing my attention.

The man striding into the store caused my breath to catch.

Jack Devlin.

Iris had told me his name when she caught me looking at him for the hundredth time when we were at Cooper’s Bar weeks ago.

Jack was tall. I hadn’t realized how tall until I saw him around town. And now, as he walked to the counter with a slight smile on his face, I realized he had to be about six four. Which was perfect for me because I was five ten.

Not perfect for me, I reminded myself.

Iris said he was a player.

I’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.

Not that I would get involved with a Devlin. Or that I was ready to get involved with anyone. My business was my priority.

Yet, staring up into Jack’s handsome face, it was hard to remember any of that. It had been like this from the first moment I saw him. He wore jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and tan construction boots. I was used to men wearing suits or preppy clothes.

Jack and his best friend Cooper dressed similarly, and together they were unfairly hot.

Jack alone was … wow.

He had these beautiful, expressive eyes, and he was now close enough that I could see they were a dark bluish gray, striking against his naturally tan complexion. His hair was dark blond, thick, and disheveled like he was always running his fingers through it. Jack Devlin wasn’t as in your face handsome as Cooper, but to me he was even sexier. It was his height, his loose-limbed walk, the exaggerated power of his broad shoulders against his lean build. And there was something about his eyes and the mischievous quirk to his mouth that was difficult to resist.

“Emery, right?” Jack stopped in front of the counter as I stumbled off my stool to greet him.

My cheeks and neck felt like they were on fire, so I knew I was blushing like crazy, which only made me more embarrassed and increased the flushing.

His lips twitched as his eyes took in the sight.

“I’m Jack Devlin.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

To my shock, I didn’t even have to think about it. I wanted to feel his hand against mine, so I reached for him. As soon as I did, he clasped it tight. Our eyes locked, the breath leaving me as goose bumps rose across my arms.

Jack’s eyes narrowed and his grip tightened.

He didn’t shake my hand.

He just held it.

This caused a swooping sensation in my gut and I let out a little sound of surprise.

Jack’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and I watched as his jaw clenched.

Quite abruptly, he released my hand, and I had to stop my arm from hitting the counter.

He cleared his throat and looked swiftly around the shop. “You settling in okay?”

I was grateful for the question.

It allowed me time to remember that Jack was a Devlin and his father, Ian Devlin, was to be avoided at all costs. This wasn’t just because of the information Iris and Ira had provided me with about everyone in town.

I’d known about Ian Devlin before I moved to Hartwell.

He’d tried to buy the Burger Shack when he learned of my grandmother’s death.