Chapter 8
“Devin!” Gina flagged him down as he drove by the B&B.
He stopped and climbed out of the truck as she swooped down the front stairs. He’d learned, in a small town, there was always time. In Chicago he wouldn’t have bothered to exit the truck or even shut down the engine. Here such an action might not be actively rude, but it wasn’t exactly sociable either.
“I tried calling you.” Gina was a very fine-looking woman, but she was practically glowing this morning.
“You’re looking good, Ms. Lamont. Like marriage really agrees with you.”
“You have no idea. Neither did I. It took me until I was past fifty to find the right man, but oh did I ever,” and her smile spoke sufficient volumes for Devin to feel a bit voyeuristic.
“I heaved my phone into the ocean,” he told her. “I haven’t
