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“Get your head out of the clouds.” His dad’s voice took on a military sharpness. “Tons of people do that. Now, listen. I’ve got more to tell you. Have you heard the news about Finn?”
“What about him?” he demanded, louder than he intended. Dean hated the guy. Once they had all been friends: he, Emilie, Ava, and Finn, but never again. Finn had crushed Emilie’s heart her senior year, dumping her to date Ava. The jerk had the worst timing. Her mom had died just a few days before the breakup. No, Finn wouldn’t get near Emilie again. “Tell me, Dad. What’s he done now?”
His dad clucked his tongue. “Calm down. As long as you keep Emilie away from him, everything will be fine. I heard he got engaged.”
Dean’s mood lifted. “He did? That’s great.” Now Finn would never tempt Emilie again. “So who’s he engaged to? Haven’t heard about him for a while. He and Ava split up again, but that was last year.”
“No idea. My source only told me he was engaged, nothing else. I’m sure he’s heard Emilie’s back and will want to tell her.”
If this made Emilie leave faster… Dean smacked the steering wheel. He needed to get to her before she met anyone in town. He exited his truck once again and headed inside.
“Why would Finn tell her? Men don’t invite their ex-girlfriends to their wedding. Idiot!” he fumed over the phone.
“I’ve heard about this topic many times. Just don’t let him hurt her. Let’s not have history repeat itself.”
Dean jammed his keys in the lock, turned and then wrenched the door open. He clenched his jaw. “Couldn’t agree more, Dad. I’ll watch out for her.”
3
Emilie
Instead of an outside breeze to cool Emilie’s flushed cheeks, a wall of heat crashed against her. She hurried to the jeep, keys dancing in her hands. As she unlocked and opened the car door, footsteps approached.
Emilie whipped her head around, ready to turn away whoever had decided to disturb her. Dean! He couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Dean Wright!” She took him all in. He hadn’t changed at a bit. Big blue eyes, wide smile, a mess of sandy-blond hair. His boyish looks had transformed from immature to handsome in only a few short years. “You’re here.”
In one fluid motion, Dean’s long, strong arms snaked around her waist, bringing her close. She tensed, still overwhelmed by the immense roller coaster of emotions from earlier. A hug from him was expected, but since she hadn’t purposefully touched another person in weeks, the physical contact stunned her. When he didn’t let go right away, she tried backing out of his arms.
In an instant, his arms dropped but his expression told her he hadn’t wanted to let go. “It’s all right.” The kindness in his voice reassured her and she voluntarily moved back into his arms. Dean held her in a firm yet gentle embrace. “Has the house upset you? We can go somewhere else.”
His words brought a flood of relief, and she collapsed against him, returning his hug. Her cheek rested against his. Spicy aftershave and mint filled her nose. Despite the hot summer day, his skin was cold and calming.
He pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “You look great. How are you doing? Have you seen anyone from school yet?” His voice was soft and cautious as he studied her face.
She tilted her head. Did he really think her as breakable as a china doll? She forced a laugh. “I’m fine. And who would I see other than you and Miss Gail?” She looked down the street toward Gail’s house. “The last time I was here, she was out of town. She doesn’t even use her cell phone, the old hippie.”
Dean chuckled and dropped his arms. “I’m sure she misses you.”
Emilie stood back and fisted her hands on her waist. “I’d like to talk with Ava, too. It’s time to clear the air and tell her the truth about what happened with Mom.”
His eyes darted to the ground and then back at her. “After what she did to you? She doesn’t deserve a chance to explain. What kind of friend steals boyfriends? Think about it, Emilie.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’d had since middle school. “Maybe you’re right.” It had been a brief impulse, but one which had made her hope again. Wasn’t this the reason she came home? To move past everything? Didn’t that involve telling the truth to her former friends?
Wanting to change the subject, she noted Dean’s choice of clothes. “In the dead of summer, you’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt.” She didn’t add that it matched his stunning blue eyes perfectly. “At least you have the decency to wear shorts, even if you’re not a sandal guy.” She pointed toward his socks and sneakers.
He chuckled. “You criticizing the way I dress makes me feel like you’re really back for good.”
If she told him her plans to go back to Boston, he’d try to make her stay. She fought back the temptation to reveal everything. The truth would come out in due time.
She wiped her neck as a drop of sweat slid down her back. Danvers was cooler than most cities since it was closer to the bay, but it wasn’t even two o’clock, and the heat was already threatening to choke her as it wrapped around her throat. “It’s hot. Do you want to—” She stopped, not wanting to go back inside.
“Should we get out of the sun?” he asked.
She stared at her haunted house. Going back inside was the last thing she wanted to do.
Dean gestured behind her where his truck was parked, sending another whiff of aftershave floating past her. “I thought living here again would be tough. Let’s unpack after your stomach is full of good local food.”
