“Let tonight be beautiful, because it is.” She kissed Dev tenderly.

“We both know what we had. Let’s see what we can have. Don’t give up, Dev.

Please.”

Dev closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Leslie’s. “Will you call

me?”

“Of course.” Leslie knew then that Dev didn’t trust her not to disappear. And

why should she? She’d done it before. More than


once. “I’m coming back up to the lake in a month. If I can get back sooner—”

“No, a month is good.” Dev raised her head, a smile ß ickering valiantly. “I

probably need a little time to get my heart rate back to normal. And tell me

you’re not busy here.”

Leslie sighed. “I’m swamped. But I can handle it—”

“Oh, yeah. You can handle it. That’s why you collapsed—what—

six weeks ago, from stress and overwork?”

“I’m Þ ne now,” Leslie said Þ rmly. “I am. Really. I’m taking the goddamn

pills.”

“No symptoms at all?”

“Dev, love, if I was going to have an episode, I would’ve had it sometime

tonight.” Leslie kissed Dev swiftly. “My heart’s had quite a workout.”

Dev couldn’t hide a pleased grin. “All the same, you just got back.

I’ll see you in a few weeks and…we’ll see.”

“You’ll be there when I come up, right?”

Dev nodded.

“Promise?”

Dev held Leslie tightly and tried not to think it might be one of the last times. “I

promise.”


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Mom?” Leslie called as she walked into the dining room at Lakeview and

dropped her suitcase on the ß oor. “Anybody here?”

“Leslie?” Eileen called from the top of the second-ß oor staircase.

Leslie stopped and craned her neck, smiling when she saw her mother. “Hi.”

“You’re early,” Eileen said, her pleasure obvious as she descended to the

ground ß oor. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

“I got things wrapped up early this week and decided to come up today.” She

tried to sound casual and not like she couldn’t wait one more day to see Dev,

which was the real reason she’d left Manhattan at noon on Thursday instead of

waiting until Friday as planned. She and Dev had talked on the phone a few

times in the last month, but their schedules rarely meshed and the conversations

always seemed rushed and superÞ cial. At least, she hoped it was because they

hadn’t had much time to connect. Dev had sounded distant, and there had been

no mention of the night they’d spent together. Or whether there would be any

more.

“Well, I hope you intend to actually rest this weekend. I’m not going to let you

work the whole time.”

“I’m still going to help close up. But,” Leslie hastened to add when she saw her

mother frown, “I promise to relax too.”

After giving Leslie a hug, Eileen pointed to Leslie’s luggage. “Do you want a

room upstairs since you’re only going to be here a few days?”


“Uh,” Leslie said, feeling her face color, “I’d rather have the same cabin I had

last time, if it’s available.”

“It’s quiet this weekend—all the kids have gone back to school—

so it’s empty.”

“Great.”

“Hungry?”

Leslie laughed. “As a matter of fact, I’m starved. Let me get settled and I’ll

come back and get a sandwich or something. Where’s Daddy?” She scanned

the great room where a few guests were seated, but didn’t see him.

“He’s down at the dock with Dev.”

“With Dev?” Leslie’s breath caught in her throat and she knew her mother

noticed. “I mean, I thought at this time of day, she’d be at the lab.”

“Does she know you’re coming?”

Leslie shook her head. “Not today.”

“She happened to be around when they were pulling one of the boats out, and

she and your father got talking about something to do with Þ shing.” Eileen

smiled. “Apparently Dev doesn’t Þ sh, but she appreciates that the Þ shermen

know more about Þ nding Þ sh in the lake than anyone else. I think your father’s

been regaling her with stories for the last hour.”

As her mother talked, Leslie drifted toward the front windows. She pushed the

lace curtain aside and scanned the dock below the house.

Her father sat in a deck chair in front of the boathouse talking to Dev, who

leaned with a shoulder against the dark green clapboards, her legs casually

crossed at the ankles and her hands in her pockets. She wore jeans and a red ß

annel shirt and even from this distance, she looked so sexy Leslie ached to get

her hands on her.

“How’s Natalie?” Leslie asked.

Eileen joined her at the window and answered as if the question hadn’t come

out of nowhere. “Well, she always seems to be in great spirits. It’s been busy

this summer, so I take it between supervising the campgrounds and keeping an

eye on shenanigans out on the lake, she’s been pretty busy.”

“So I guess you don’t see her too much.”

“Sweetie,” Eileen said gently, “why don’t you just ask Dev if she’s seeing

Natalie?”


Leslie hesitated. “Because I’m afraid of what she might say.”

“Would it be prying if I asked you about Rachel?”

“No,” Leslie said softly, still watching Dev. “We’re not seeing each other any

longer. I broke it off right after the Fourth of July.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. We ran into each other at a fundraiser a week ago and spoke for a

few minutes. She seemed…like Rachel.” The conversation had been what she

would have expected—brief, pleasant, totally without intimacy. Rachel had been

there with a date, although it probably wasn’t obvious to most attendees that the

leggy brunette who watched Rachel’s every move was more than an

acquaintance. But Leslie knew the signs. It hadn’t bothered her, and she hadn’t

expected it to. “I know Natalie has a thing for Dev.”

“Mmm, maybe.” Eileen patted Leslie’s shoulder. “What matters, though, is who

Dev has a thing for.”

Leslie sighed. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Why isn’t it? You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“Like crazy.”

“And if she feels the same way?”

“We’re completely incompatible,” Leslie said. “Our jobs, our lifestyles, where

we live. And Dev isn’t interested in a casual relationship.”

“Are you?”

Leslie leaned her head against the window frame, thinking that she’d only ever

had casual relationships, no matter how long-term or monogamous. They had

been convenient, simple, and satisfying in a limited way. She’d spent one night

with Dev, whom she’d known far better as a teenager than as an adult, and

realized immediately that that one night was more meaningful than all the other

nights she’d spent with other women. “I think she’s it for me.”

“Then you’d best get around to telling her that. She’s been jumpy and distracted

all summer, and I’m willing to bet it’s because of you.”

Eileen slipped her arm around Leslie’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

“Don’t wonder how she feels, sweetie. Just ask her.”

Leslie smiled. “Yes, Mom.”


“If you want to Þ nd the big bass, you’ve got to go twenty miles farther north

than ten years ago,” Paul Harris complained. “And even then, you won’t see the

really big ones anymore.”

Dev nodded, her eyes on the woman making her way down the grassy slope

toward them. The late-afternoon sun had taken on the amber hue of

approaching autumn, and Leslie, with her softly layered blond hair, pale silk

blouse, and navy slacks, looked radiant.

Following Dev’s gaze, Paul twisted in his chair, then grinned.

“Hey, look who’s here.”

Leslie smiled as she leaned down to kiss him. “Hi, Daddy. How’s your leg?”

“One more week,” he said, thumping his walking cast. “Pretty good timing, huh?

Just missed closing up.”

“Very smart of you.” Leslie squeezed her father’s shoulder but her attention was

on Dev. “Hi.”

Dev pushed away from the wall, her heart thundering so loudly she felt as if she

were in an echo chamber. “Hi. I thought tomorrow—”

“I know. I couldn’t…I got a break.”

“That’s good.” Dev knew she was barely making any sense, but she hadn’t

expected to see Leslie for another twenty-four hours. She wasn’t ready. She

wasn’t ready for the body blow that just being near Leslie always produced.

She felt shaky, a little light-headed, and hot.

Her skin was hot. She was hot inside. She was burning, and Leslie was the cool,

cool water she needed to soothe her, inside and out.

“Mom said you were talking about Þ sh.”

“Yes.”

“How’s the work going?”

“Pretty much done.”

Paul looked from one to the other, his expression curious. He maneuvered

himself out of his chair and into the nearby motorized cart Leslie had insisted on

getting for him earlier in the summer. “I’m going to head on up to the house. See

you for supper, Les?”

“Uh-huh. Probably.”

“Well,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “I’ll see you sometime this

weekend, honey.”

For a few minutes, the motor drowned out the possibility of conversation, and