Page 107 of Love on the Line

Chapter 40

Devon openedhis umbrella and approached Anne, slumped against her car, her back to him. A bolt of lightning flashed, and sheets of rain dumped from the sky. She didn’t move.

Satisfaction slithered through his veins. His plan had worked.

Now he’d close in for the kill.

“What are you doing out here in the storm?” He held the umbrella over Anne’s drenched body.

Shivering, she pushed off the car and wiped at swollen, tear-stained eyes, smearing black mascara down her cheeks. “What?”

Disgust twisted in his chest. God, she was a fucking mess.

“Never mind. Let’s get you inside. Which apartment is yours?” Like he didn’t know. He pulled her closer to keep them both covered.

Her body shook, and her teeth chattered. She didn’t answer, but walked stiffly with him toward the staircase.

When they reached her apartment, she fumbled with the key, hands shaking too hard to slide it into the lock. He set the umbrella down and helped her, opening the door. After she entered, he followed her inside.

She glanced at her soaked shoes, and then back up to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought some flyers I intended to leave at your door when I figured out which unit was yours, but that doesn’t matter now.” He placed a hand on her cold arm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“No, not really.” She hugged herself and shivered. “I need to…be alone.”

Too bad. That wouldn’t work for his plan. “You’re chilled to the bone. In good conscience, I can’t leave you like this. Why don’t you go change? I’ll make you some tea, and we can talk?”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip. “Honestly, I’m a little shell-shocked right now. I think you should go.”

He lowered his voice and patted her arm. “What kind of friend would I be if I did that? I’m a good listener, and you’re clearly upset. Please, just go change into dry clothes.”

“I can’t even think right now.” She frowned and shook harder. “Okay, whatever.”

His body amped. A step in the right direction.

As she trudged down the hall, he went to the kitchen. He microwaved a mug of water and dropped in a teabag he’d found to steep. Bringing the cup with him, he moved to the living room and took a seat on the couch. Better chance to interact with her if they weren’t separated by a table.

She wandered back out a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

He scoffed inside. She’d fit right in at a rodeo. “Come sit down. I made you some chamomile.”

Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, she walked around the sofa and sat at the far end. Like a zombie, she stared into space. A muscle under his jaw twitched. He might as well not be in the room for all she noticed him.

He picked up the mug and slid closer, holding it out to her. “Drink some of this. It’ll warm you.”

“What?” She turned to him, brows drawn together. “All I want is to be left alone.”

“Please, tell me what’s upsetting you so much. I’m worried.” But really, he was more confused about why she wasn’t appreciating all he’d done for her. He’d brought her inside, made her tea, and acted like he cared. She should be fawning all over him. He placed the untouched cup on the table.

She let out a huge sigh and covered her face with her hands. “God, I can’t get it out of my head. How could he have done this?”

“Who? Done what?” Devon placed a hand on her shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Anne shrugged his hand off and stood. She paced the room, talking more to herself than him. “Ch-cheated on me. With…this…this horrible woman. It’s over. We aren’t getting married, and I can’t stop thinking about her dressed in—”

“Hold on. Are you saying you walked in on Wyatt Pearson and another woman?” Devon feigned indignation as his gut leaped. The engagement was off.

She swiped hard at the tears on her cheeks and faced the window, apparently lost in her world.

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