The Truest Thing: Hart's Boardwalk #4

by Samantha Young

  “One, I’m pretty sure they can tell I’m sexually familiar with you.” He nodded to my bump. “Two, then you shouldn’t have worn that dress.”

  With temperatures cooling, I’d worn a long-sleeved, ankle-length jersey dress I loved. It clung to my figure but the material was stretchy, so it gave over my little baby bump and my somewhat bigger-than-normal breasts. Despite the clinginess, with its tight sleeves and high scoop neck, I’d thought it was conservative. Until I opened my door to Jack and his eyes turned smoky and wanting.

  Apparently, he told me, I’d worn a similar dress the first time he ever saw me, and it did wonderful things for my ass. The man was incorrigible.

  I’d plaited my hair into a fishtail braid and I’d forgone a ton of bracelets for a few necklaces of varying lengths. Silver and amethyst drop earrings Dahlia had crafted hung from my ears, and as per usual, nearly every finger had a ring on it.

  I wasn’t sure what kind of woman Rosalie Devlin was, but I was determined to be myself. Silver and all. Even if I was a nervous wreck about it.

  “Em, you look beautiful. You always look beautiful, and not just because you have a Helen of Troy thing going on with your face.” He grinned. “But because your goodness shines out of you, sunrise. My mom and Becs will see that, and they’re going to be grateful that my kid’s mom is an outstanding woman. End of story.”

  My cheeks heated at his compliments. “Jack,” I whispered, gazing up into soulful eyes and seeing he meant every bit of it. My stomach somersaulted at the intensity of his expression.

  The sound of a door opening broke the moment between us. “I thought I heard voices.”

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

  “I know,” he agreed with the kind of deep feeling that made my heart ache.

  “Hi, Emery.” The man, just as tall as Jack, approached. “I’m Jack’s uncle, Heath. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out to shake. Studying him, I saw quite a bit of resemblance between him and Jack.

  “Likewise.” I smiled shyly and shook his hand. And then did the same when he introduced his wife Amelia.

  “We have two daughters, Rosie and Leila, but, like Jamie, they’re at college,” Amelia said.

  I nodded, discomforted to be center of attention.

  Jack sensed it and tucked me into his side.

  “How are you feeling?” Rosalie asked, her eyes moving between my face and my bump.

  “I’m good,” I assured her quietly, touching my rounded stomach. “I’ve been lucky so far. I feel great.”

  “How far along are you?” Amelia asked.

  “Sixteen weeks.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t l
ook it. In fact, if you were to turn around, no one would know you were pregnant at all.”

  “I was the same,” Rosalie offered. “It’s perhaps our height. My bump was a little bigger with the boys but not with Rebecca. I was very neat with Rebecca. Perhaps you’re having a girl.” She seemed delighted by the notion.

  A little girl.

  My goodness.

  The thought filled me with longing. But so did the idea of having a boy.

  “We find out in a few weeks what the sex of the baby is,” Jack said.

  “So, you don’t want it to be a surprise?”

  Jack nodded at me to answer since I was the one who wanted to know. Jack didn’t mind either way. I grinned at Rosalie as I thought about Jess. “One of my best friends is pregnant. In fact, she’s a week past due.” Poor Jess. “And she’s having a boy. We’ve both got this ridiculous notion in our heads that if Jack and I have a girl, then she might grow up to fall in love with Jess and Cooper’s boy.” I blushed because saying it out loud to strangers made us sound so infantile.

  To my surprise, however, Rosalie brought her hands together, her eyes bright with happiness as she looked at Jack. “Cooper’s boy?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful?” She squeezed her son’s arm. “I like that idea very much. Okay. Then we’ll all pray for a girl!”

  Not long later, Jack led me into the dining room for dinner. We were far enough away from his family for me to murmur, “Your mom seems in great spirits, Jack.”

  “I haven’t seen her like this in years. I told you she was excited to be a grandma.”

  “Then we’ll need to make sure she gets to see her grandkid a lot.”

  Jack seemed to stumble over his own feet, and I pressed a hand to his chest to support him. That hand fell away as if burned when I saw his expression.

  He looked at me …

  Like Vaughn looked at Bailey.

  Like Michael at Dahlia.

  Cooper at Jess.

  Oh my God.

  It occurred to me it wasn’t the first time Jack gazed at me as if he loved me. In fact, there were times these past few weeks that he’d looked at me this way as he made love to me.

  I just hadn’t wanted to admit I knew what his expression revealed.

  “As beautiful as Emery is, darling, the food is waiting to be consumed,” his mother teased from her place at the dining table.

  Jack tore his eyes from mine and led me to my seat. I blushed at the knowing smiles on his mom’s and aunt’s and uncle’s faces. But when my eyes moved to Rebecca, I only saw her frown.

  Dinner went well.

  Jack must have prepped his family because no one asked me about mine. They had questions about my store, and Rosalie asked about my favorite books and for recommendations. We talked about the baby and the scans. She and Heath and Amelia regaled me with stories of parenthood that made me laugh and put me at ease and distracted me from my feelings for Jack.

  The only person who didn’t was Rebecca, who spoke sometimes, but mostly seemed to observe for the evening.

  Observing me.

  And I got the feeling she didn’t like what she saw.

  After we’d moved back to the sitting room for drinks (decaf tea for me), I excused myself to use the restroom. It was down the hall behind the staircase, near the enormous kitchen at the rear of the house. I had to walk past a wall of photos, and I’d noticed pictures of Jack and his siblings on the wall. Considering Heath had no part in their lives until recently, this surprised me.

  I used the restroom and returned to the photographs. There was one of Jack and Rosalie on their own together. Jack was in his football gear, so he must’ve been in his late teens and already a few inches taller than his mom. They were standing outside the Devlin house. He had his arm around his mom’s shoulders, and she was tucked into his side, happy to be there. Pride shone from her eyes. Jack grinned at the camera, unabashed to be taking a photo with his mom.

  Knowing their history, I could see why Heath would frame this photo. It was evidence that his sister had a child in her life who obviously adored her.

  “Mom sent them photos.”

  I jerked my head around to find Rebecca standing in the hall. I hadn’t even heard her approach I’d been so lost in my thoughts.

  She gestured to the wall with the photographs. “All that time, Uncle Heath and Aunt Amelia had us, but we never had them.” Rebecca approached me. “It might have helped to have them in our lives back then. They’re wonderful people.”

  I nodded. “I can tell.”

  Her eyes narrowed and I tensed. “I don’t know you, Emery, so don’t take this personally—”

  Oh hell.

  “But I don’t like the way you’re stringing my brother along. I’d like it to stop. Especially since there’s a child involved.” She nodded to my belly.

  Had Jack and I been that obvious? “I don’t know how to take that if not personally?”

  “Okay, so it is personal. Jack told me everything. How long this thing between you has been going on. That he got you pregnant and that you don’t want to be in a relationship with him because you don’t trust him.” She scoffed at that. “My brother. The guy who sacrificed his whole goddamn life for others. He’s, like, the noblest guy in the world, and you don’t trust him.”

  Guilt shimmered through me. But also defensiveness. “You have no idea what’s between me and Jack.”

  “What I know is, is that I’d do anything for Jack.” She took a final step toward me. “I want my brother to have everything he wants. And he wants you. And frankly, it pisses me off that you don’t think he’s good enough for you. Who is to say that it’s not you who isn’t good enough for him?”

  Indignation roared through me and I straightened my shoulders. “How dare you,” I whispered. “How dare you presume things about me or my feelings for Jack?”

  Whatever she heard in my tone made her flinch. Rebecca sighed heavily. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just …” Her expression turned pleading. “Don’t break his heart, okay? He’s been through enough.”

  Understanding flooded me.

  Rebecca felt guilty. She felt like Jack had given up a part of his life for her. And as she said, she wanted Jack to have everything he wanted.

  Remembering the look on his face when we’d walked into the dining room, I realized I couldn’t keep willfully ignoring reality. Our sexual relationship was tying the bond between us tighter and tighter, and if I didn’t stop it soon, there was no way I could end it without hurting Jack.

  Or myself.

  38

  Jack

  It had taken an annoying amount of coercing to get Emery to agree to dinner with him. Jack was pissed but trying not to be pissed. Ever since Emery had met his family, she’d been acting distant. He’d been sleeping in her bed nearly every night for the past four weeks, but she’d told him the night of his family’s dinner that she was tired and wanted to sleep alone. And then she’d been weird when he’d stopped by her store for coffee the next morning. Em had then put him off about seeing each other later that night.

  The only reason he had her in his company now was because she’d promised he could be a part of the prenatal checkups, and they were due for an appointment. On the drive back from Essex, Em had said she wanted to be alone, but uneasiness gripped Jack and he couldn’t let it go.

  Emery was pulling away from him.

  He could feel it deep in his gut.

  So he insisted they have dinner at The Boardwalk.

  “I can’t eat seafood, Jack,” she complained.

  “You wanted to eat there only a few weeks ago because you can eat seafood.” He’d researched what Em could and could not eat. “Anything high in mercury is out, but seafood is great for omega-3. As long it’s cooked properly, we’ll be good. I’m pretty sure there will be non-seafood options on the menu if you don’t want to take the chance.”

  She gaped at him as they walked to the restauran
t. She looked unbearably sad. “You really have read all those pregnancy books, haven’t you?”

  Jack stopped on the boards and pulled her into his arms. “Em, what’s going on?”

  “Jack, don’t.” She tried to pull away. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us.”

  “People … or me?” he bit out impatiently.

  Emery pressed her lips tight and glowered up at him.

  It was irritating how fucking cute she was when she was pissed when he was pissed back at her. Grabbing hold of her hand, Jack led her into The Boardwalk without another word.

  The restaurant wasn’t huge. It had been completely transformed from the shabby beach gift store George Beckwith used to run. Shining, wide-planked hardwood floors, crisp white walls, copper light fixtures, and simple, modern seating gave the place a warm but uncluttered feel. Black-and-white photographs of Hartwell hung on the walls, which Jack thought was a nice touch.

  A young hostess approached and told them they had a fifteen-minute wait. There was a small seating area near the front of the restaurant, and Jack led the silently fuming Em over to it. Sadie Thomas was already sitting there with some guy Jack didn’t recognize. She gave them a breezy smile that Em completely ignored.

  It could’ve been because she wasn’t over Sadie talking trash about her or because she was too angry at Jack to notice her.

  They sat in silence the entire wait, and Jack ignored the speculative looks Sadie kept throwing their way. Em shifted uncomfortably beside him and Jack used the situation to take hold of her hand and clasp it on his lap. She must’ve seen Sadie’s eyes narrow on their clasped hands because Em didn’t pull away.

  Even when Jack turned her hand over and traced the backs of her rings with his fingertips before moving onto her palm. Her arm jerked a little and he looked at her.

  “Tickles,” she whispered.

  He stared into her gorgeous eyes and found a smile in them, despite the tension between them. Jack wanted to rail at her for being so fucking stubborn. They were perfect together. It was easy and comfortable, but not so comfortable it wasn’t still exciting as hell to be around her. They’d taken the prospect of parenthood together in stride with no drama.