The Devil She Knows (17 page)

Dev’s gaze traveled slowly around the space, still unsure exactly what to make of it.

“Have to admit, I was a little pissed when they asked me to get you down here. Until they told me your grandfather was a member.” Brett frowned, his cool eyes appraising. “You didn’t tell me you grew up in Sweetheart.”

Dev’s hands tightened around the coffee cup cradled in his fist. “I don’t remember that being a requirement of the bid.”

“True, but you might have mentioned it when we first met.”

“Why? No one in Sweetheart particularly likes me.”

“I’d have to say you’re wrong on that. Trust me, I know what this town is capable of doing to someone they don’t like. When I first arrived they hated me.”

“When I left they thought I was evil incarnate.”

Brett took a long drink and studied Dev over the rim of the cup. Lowering it back to the table, he finally said, “Apparently they’ve changed their minds.”

Dev opened his mouth, the familiar protest on his lips, but it never materialized. He’d come to Sweetheart thinking he was here to show the town that they’d been wrong about him and he didn’t give a damn what they thought anymore.

But the flood of warmth that suffused him the moment he realized just what this place meant proved him a liar. And maybe there was a part of him that wanted this not to matter.

But it did.

With one simple gesture they’d made him feel welcome...and pulled him right back in. He just hoped he didn’t get the welcome mat ripped out from under his feet again.

Dev’s cell phone buzzed against his hip, startling him away from the foreboding thoughts. Looking at the screen, he was about to let it go to voice mail when he realized it was Willow’s store.

He couldn’t stop the twin bursts of bliss and disquiet that jolted through him.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answered. “Everything okay?”

“No, it isn’t.”

Dev jackknifed straight in his chair the moment he realized the voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t Willow.

“Who is this? What’s wrong?”

“Macey, Willow’s business partner. She’s fine, but you need to get over here. Now.”

* * *

W
ILLOW STARED AT
the mess, dumbfounded and...lost. Tiny iridescent beads in every shape and size were scattered across the floor. Bits of lace in varying shades of beige and white fluttered every time someone walked past. They reminded her of the feathers from her wings, floating softly through the air.

There was nothing angelic about what had happened in her workroom.

Someone had torn it to shreds.

If it was just chaos, Willow could have handled that. Putting bolts of material back on the rack on the wall, re-sorting all of her crystals and sequins.

But whoever had done this had gone beyond making a mess. They’d ripped both of the dresses she’d been working on into nothing more than rags.

Both brides were expecting a finished product in little more than a week.

Hot tears prickled behind her eyes. Willow tipped her head back and stared at the bright lights, letting them burn away her weakness. She had too much to do to lose it now.

Macey had been fabulous, offering to contact both brides to let them know what was going on. Willow had told her to promise them she’d find a way to fix this. Possibly by getting hopped up on energy drinks and spending the next seven days without sleep. But they didn’t need to know that.

Both brides needed the reassurance that everything would be okay. This wouldn’t ruin their perfect days. Willow wouldn’t let it. Not even the demanding country star deserved that.

But there wasn’t much she could do until Sheriff Grant and his team finished processing her workroom. Given the damage to her business and property, and the previous incidents, there was more he could do this time.

Even though she knew Grant and his team didn’t need her help, she couldn’t make herself leave, so she’d lodged herself into the corner of the room and was watching.

Hope rushed in, followed by Lexi, Tatum and Jenna. Without a word, her friends circled around her, dragging her into their tight, supportive embrace.

“Are you okay?” Lexi asked.

Ever practical, Hope said, “Of course she’s not okay, but she will be.”

Tatum held her at arm’s length. “You’re tougher than you look and we’re all here to help any way we can. Just tell us what you need. I’m not great with a needle and thread, but I’ll do my best.”

Willow’s smile was weak and watery, but she gave it to her friends anyway. Looking at the circle of faces that surrounded her, Macey included, she felt the tension inside her chest ease just a little.

These women were her rock. She’d always known she could count on them for anything, but their unwavering support meant more to her than she’d ever realized.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve seen your sewing skills. They suck. I might let you keep the supply of coffee going, though.”

“Done,” Tatum said, pulling her back into a tight hug before letting her go again.

A clatter at the door startled them all. Everyone turned to watch as Dev shot into the room. His anxious eyes darted around, taking in the mess and the people before zeroing straight in on her.

Stalking into the chaos, he wrapped her in the comforting heat and support of his arms. Her name whispered against her temple, the single word splintering the fragile hold she had on her own emotions.

She looked up into his dark blue eyes. They were filled with regret, sympathy, sorrow and a bone-deep fury that might have made her shudder with dread if it had been pointed at her.

He dipped his head down, pressed his mouth to her forehead and mumbled, “It’ll be okay,” against her skin.

The dam that had been holding everything back burst and she completely lost it. He swept her up into his arms and she let him. He carried her somewhere quiet. The world tilted. Lowering them both to the floor, Dev settled her heavily against him.

Burying her head in his shoulder, Willow let it all go. She sobbed against him. Her fists wrapped in his shirt, balling it and pulling him closer. The steady pressure of his hand brushed up and down her back in a soothing rhythm.

He didn’t tell her to stop. He didn’t try to comfort her. He just sheltered her with his body and held her tight, letting the emotion pour out of her however it needed to.

Willow had no idea how long they stayed there locked together like that, but when the tears were spent and she could finally breathe without a painful hitch, she looked up to find them at the far end of the hallway outside her workroom.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, pressing her face back into Dev’s shoulder to hide the rush of embarrassment that touched her skin. “I just made a complete fool of myself.”

“Cut yourself some slack. You’ve been through a lot today.” Dev’s voice rumbled at her, the vibrations slipping from his chest into her own.

An ache that had nothing to do with what she’d lost began to thump in the center of her chest. It wasn’t desire—or wasn’t
just
desire, since that was always there between them—it was more.

She liked him. She wanted him. She cared about him.

And that was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. But what could she do? If there were a woman alive who could resist Devlin Warwick, Willow would like to meet her. He was sexy and charming with a dangerous edge. Tempting. Kind. A little lost and wounded.

And he’d known exactly what she needed and given it to her.

“Grant said they’ve got what they need. Hopefully this time whoever’s doing this slipped up and left a fingerprint or something.”

“I know I locked my workroom before I left last night. I’m anal about security.”

“Well, apparently locks aren’t enough to stop this person. They’ve broken into your house, my house and your workroom. Until this is resolved, promise me you won’t go anywhere alone.”

While part of her wanted to protest on principle, Willow wasn’t stupid. The incidents were escalating and this last one had been more than personal. It had been vindictive and destructive.

“I promise.”

“Your friends are cleaning up your workroom, although I have no doubt I’m only going to be able to keep you out of there for a few more minutes. Let them help you.”

She nodded.

“Let me help you.”

A weak smile played across her lips. “Do you have a hidden talent I’m unaware of? Can you sew?”

“Unless you’re going for Gothic, with spots of blood, you should keep me far away from needles.”

A shudder of revulsion shook her. “God, no blood.” Somehow, despite everything, he’d found a way to make her smile. And that was probably more important than anything.

She’d purged the emotions that had been building inside her. The heavy weight crushing her chest was suddenly lifted. And despite everything, she felt hopeful.

“Well, one good thing might come from all of this.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“Now I get to give the country princess the design I wanted all along. For a woman constantly in the spotlight, she has no clue what looks good on her body type.”

“That’s my girl,” Dev said.

Willow looked up into his face. Snuggling in his lap, with approval and pride shining down at her from his dark eyes, she felt warmed through.

And suddenly the moment of happiness she’d found dimmed.

She was in so much trouble. And the danger had nothing to do with whoever was stalking her or the potential damage to her reputation as a designer.

She was falling for Dev all over again. And just as before, she was going to get her heart broken. Only this time she wouldn’t have anyone to blame but herself.

12

T
ONIGHT EVERYTHING FELT
different. He felt different. Today had been a game changer. Getting that phone call from Macey, walking into Willow’s workroom to find her standing there in the middle of all that destruction...

Never in his life had he been violent. His father, when he’d been around, hadn’t had a problem beating the shit out of him for no reason. Dev had been more a lover than a fighter, using his face and charm instead of his fists to get what he wanted.

But in that moment he could have joyfully hurt whoever had left that hunted, injured expression on Willow’s face.

Maybe no one else had noticed the cracks that were showing through her facade, the cracks she was trying desperately to shore up, but he had. The moment he’d walked into the room he’d recognized just how close she was to losing it. And he’d wanted nothing more than to give her a safe place to land.

Not just then, but forever. He’d fought the need to whisk her away to someplace safe, mostly because he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. So he’d settled for the silent hallway, as far away as he figured she’d let him get while her design studio was in a shambles.

They’d taken the rest of the day to put everything to rights. He hadn’t spent much time with her friends up to that point, but he liked them. Even if they had given him several hard looks and individually found a moment to warn him against hurting her.

What was it with the citizens of Sweetheart? Willow had more people watching over her virtue than the average nun.

But even though it was slightly annoying, knowing she had so many people who cared for her also made him happy.

It had taken some fast talking from him and her friends to convince her there was no reason to start redesigning the dresses tonight. She needed a little rest before she dove into a marathon design session.

So he’d brought her home. To the only one he’d ever really known.

He pulled into the driveway, and for the first time in a long while, instead of seeing the place as a burden he remembered the moment he’d driven up when his grandfather took him in. He’d visited before, but that time he was there to stay and everyone knew it.

Relief had flooded him, but experience and wariness had kept him from showing it. His grandfather hadn’t said anything, just reached across the bench seat of his pickup to place a heavy hand on Dev’s shoulder. He’d squeezed. It was the silent comfort and reassurance his grandfather had instinctively known that young Dev had needed.

Part of him wished his grandfather was still here so he could find that reassurance again. He had no idea what he was doing—in Sweetheart and with Willow. He’d come here for a little benign revenge and instead he’d fallen for a brilliant, cool, poised and passionate woman who had the potential to turn his life upside down. Again.

He’d promised himself he’d never be that vulnerable again. But he couldn’t seem to turn away from her. When she’d looked at him today, those light blue eyes still shiny with tears, as if he was the only person holding her life together...

It had been a very long time since anyone had looked at him that way—as though he was worth something. Like he mattered.

Taking Willow’s hand, Dev squeezed it and then jumped out. Striding around the side of the truck, he helped her from the cab.

Her body collided with his, slithering down as her feet found the ground. He reacted, every cell going on full alert.

Dev wanted her. To touch and taste. To fill her up and assure them both that she was safe. But now wasn’t the time for that. She’d been through enough today and needed peace.

Unfortunately, he knew the one place that would normally have provided that—her studio—wasn’t going to work. At least, not for a little while. So he did the next best thing.

Tugging on her hand, he led her around to the gate in the side of the fence and pushed it open. The hinges squeaked and the wood creaked. Her small gasp of surprise as she walked into the garden was enough of a reaction to make his chest swell just a little with pride.

“Dev, this is gorgeous. I had no idea it was back here. Did you do this?”

He’d hired a landscape company to keep everything in order, but somehow it hadn’t been the same. The bushes were trimmed, the mulch in the proper places. The few late-blooming flowers had been fragrant.

But the moment he’d walked out here that first night it had felt impersonal. Everything was right, but it wasn’t his grandmother’s garden. So he’d spent his downtime back here trying to capture the elusive element that had been missing.