The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

Yanking my eyes from Jack’s, I saw Rebecca Devlin standing in the doorway to Jack’s uncle’s home. I recognized her from her photograph in the newspaper. Apparently, when she’d arrived back in Hartwell months ago, she was painfully thin and wan looking. While Rebecca was still very slender, Jack had mentioned she’d put on a little weight and now she had a healthy glow.

We weren’t just at his uncle’s house to introduce me to his family—we were there to celebrate. Four weeks ago, Ian and Kerr Devlin were sentenced to thirty years for three counts of racketeering. They’d probably serve less time than that, but it still meant they’d be inside for a long time. Kerr was in his forties now, which meant he’d lose the best decades of his life. As for Ian, he would be an old man before he ever breathed free air again ... if he lived that long. According to Jack, this news, along with the news that she would become a grandmother, had given his mom a new lease of life.

We were also celebrating the fact that the shark of an attorney Hague found had gotten Rebecca off with nothing more than community service in her aiding-and-abetting charges. She wouldn’t have to face prison, much to Jack’s utter relief.

And Jack and I were privately celebrating (along with the rest of our friends) the news that Dana Kellerman had left her rental apartment behind and departed Hartwell for Boston, where she’d accepted a job with an old college friend.

Yay!

The Wicked Witch was leaving Hart’s Boardwalk for good!

“Becs.” Jack rested his hand on my waist and led me to the door. He only released me to hug his sister tight. “You look great.”

She studied me as they hugged, her eyes only returning to her brother when they released one another. “Thanks. I feel great. An enormous weight has been lifted. In more ways than one.”

I also knew from Jack that Rosalie and Rebecca were seeing a therapist and that both were feeling the positive effects of those sessions. No decision had been made yet about Rebecca meeting her real father, though I knew from Jack, it had been much discussed these past few weeks.

“I’m glad, sweetheart.” He turned his attention to me. His smile was easy. Almost proud. “Becs, I’d like you to meet Emery.”

Rebecca didn’t return my shy smile. Her eyes were on my belly as she stepped forward and offered her hand in a somewhat formal gesture. “Hello.”

Not sure how to take her cool reception, I shook her proffered hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Her eyes moved to my face, which I was pretty sure was tomato red with uncertainty. Something softened in her expression. “You too. Come on in.”

As we followed her inside the large, traditionally decorated home, I caught Jack’s eyes. They filled with reassurance as his hand returned to my lower back. This time I didn’t ask him to remove it. I needed that touch. I desired the comfort of his proximity. These people would be in my life because of my child, and I wanted to like them. Rebecca’s reception had been slightly off, and I didn’t know why.

“Mom, Jack’s here!” Rebecca called as she strode away from us. We’d entered a large entrance hall with a wide staircase directly ahead. The walls were open at either side of us; to the right, a large dining room; to our left, a massive sitting room. Rebecca strode through the sitting room and Jack ushered us after her.

“Perfect timing.” An elegant woman with thick, dark blond hair stood from a comfortable armchair at the end of the room. A man and woman seated opposite her on a huge sectional stood too.

The woman was tall and willowy. She strutted across the room in a pale-blue silk blouse tucked into a high-waisted, knee-length pencil skirt. Her heels were pale blue and black leather, matching her outfit perfectly.

Jack released his hold on me as the woman embraced him. “Darling, it’s lovely to see you,” she murmured.

This was Rosalie Devlin?

I’d anticipated a diminutive, nervous wreck of a woman.

She was nothing like I’d expected. Ian Devlin, for what a gigantic bastard he’d been, had been a tall, good-looking man. I could only imagine he’d been even more so as a young man. It saddened me that he’d swept Rosalie off her feet. But I guess she got her sons out of it. I wondered what Rebecca’s real father was like and if Rosalie had loved him.

Rosalie pulled out of Jack’s embrace but held on to his arm as she turned to me.

“Mom, this is Emery.”

Just like Rebecca, her eyes dropped first to my belly. They stayed there awhile before returning to my face, bright with tears. I stiffened, not sure what those tears meant.

“Emery. May I hug you?”

Relief loosened my tense muscles. In answer, I moved to embrace her, and she gave a teary little laugh in my ear as we hugged. She smelled of expensive floral perfume. When she pulled back, she cupped my face in her hands, studying me with a small, delighted smile that definitely reached her eyes. “Look at you. Aren’t you perfect.”

Of course, I blushed.

“Mom, stop, you’re embarrassing her,” Jack said without conviction, sounding like he was enjoying my discomfort. The bastard. The look I cut him only made him grin harder.

Rosalie bit her lip and released me. “I’m sorry. I just …” Her gaze dropped to my belly again. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother. It’s wonderful. And sh

e’s so lovely, Jack.” She turned to her son, touching his chest.