A Small-Town Reunion Read Free Page B

of cinnamon and nutmeg rode on the thick, warm kitchen air, but Addie’s skin prickled with the icy awareness of Dev’s stare.
    “You settle yourself on that stool, right there,” Julia insisted, “just like old times, and I’ll pour us both a cup of hot tea. And you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”
    “Go ahead,” said Dev as he tossed his unfinished toast into the sink. “Don’t mind me. I can get my own tea and cookies.”
    “That’s right,” said Julia with a wink for Addie. “We won’t mind you one bit. And you keep your sneaky mitts off those cookies.”
    “The cookies sound great,” Addie remarked. “But I’m not here to visit. I have an appointment with Mrs. Chandler.”
    Julia turned with a frown, the plate of cookies in her hand. “Did you say ‘Mrs. Chandler’?”
    “I’m here on business,” Addie said. “To take a look at the damage to some windows.”
    Dev nipped the plate from Julia’s hand. “I’ll take those.”
    Julia snatched them back with a scowl. “You’ll take Addie to find Geneva, is what you’ll do. Now get out of my kitchen. You’ve been pestering me all morning, keeping me from getting my work done.”
    Dev darted to the side and stole a cookie. “I’ve been keeping you company, you old windbag.”
    Julia pulled the towel from her shoulder with a practiced move and snapped it at Dev’s arm.
    “Ow.” The cookie fell to the floor.
    “Is Geneva in her office?” Addie asked.
    Dev began to button his shirt. “I’ll take you.”
    “You don’t have to. I’ll just—”
    “I said I’d take you.” He unfastened the top snap on his jeans and stuffed his shirt into his waistband. Behind his back, Julia rolled her eyes and muttered something about manners.
    “If she’s not in her office,” he said, ignoring the cook, “what are you going to do—hunt all over this place for her?”
    Addie crossed her arms. “I thought I’d start by checking out the windows.” She glanced at his bare feet. “I take it the area has been cleared of any broken glass?”
    “Nope.” He shot her another crooked grin. “We thought we’d leave that to the expert. Ow, ” he said again as he darted out of towel range.
    “When you’re finished upstairs,” Julia told Addie, “you come right back here. I want to hear all your news.”
    Addie followed Dev through the sunny breakfast nook and cavernous dining room toward the marble-floored foyer. She caught a glimpse of new wall-covering in one room and reupholstered chairs in another, but everything else was as it had always been. The scents in the formal parts of the house were the same, too—citrus polish, lavender water, old books and wool carpets.
    And then there was Dev. The same wide shoulders set in a perpetual slouch, the same slightly wavy hairin need of a trim, the same casual gait stuck somewhere between a shuffle and a swagger. The heir apparent of Chandler House; the only son of Geneva’s only son. She wondered why he was here, how long he’d stay, whether he was married—no, he wasn’t married. She was sure she’d have heard the news from Tess, his cousin.
    But why hadn’t Tess mentioned he was back in town?
    Addie slowed and paused when they reached the grand entry to the front parlor, staring up at the set of stained-glass windows depicting the four seasons. She couldn’t see any damage from this angle; maybe things weren’t as bad as she’d feared.
    Dev stopped, too, and when she finally lowered her gaze from the glass, she found him watching her.
    “What have you been up to, anyway?” he asked.
    “Wh-what do you mean?”
    “Are you married? Divorced?”
    For one second, a ridiculous wave of joy rushed through her at the fact that he seemed interested enough to ask, to make an attempt to start a conversation with her. And in the next instant, her pitiful little thrill whirled down the drain as she realized he didn’t know the most basic facts about her—and that he’d never cared enough to