The second the line went dead, I glanced back through the front window of the diner. Beau was chatting with some folks who’d sat down at his table, but I only had eyes for him.
And I realized with a start that I’d lied to Shane.
I wasn’t sure if I was going back to Austin at all.
I tucked my phone into my bag and hoisted it over my shoulder to go back inside, Beau’s eyes finding mine almost instantly. He’d given me my space…but he’d been paying attention. Probably not eavesdropping—he was too polite for that—but at least waiting. He gestured me over to our table, where the tourists seemed to have left…
…and been replaced by Delilah and a man who was, without a doubt, Beau’s brother.
Beau stood to let me back into my window seat in the booth, where Delilah grinned at me like she’d known all along that I would end up sleeping in Beau’s bed and not on herfuton. The guy next to her was sipping coffee, looking just as smug.
“Boyfriend?” I asked her, pointing at him.
Delilah coughed out a startled laugh. “Christ, no,” she said. “This is Whit.”
Beau’s shoulders shook with laughter as he slid back into the booth beside me. “My brother.”
“No shit,” I said. “You could be twins.”
“Just wait until you see Rhett,” Delilah said. “You won’t believe it—they’re like…identical.”
Once again, I was struck by how confident she sounded that I was going to meet Rhett—that I would meet all the brothers. I thought about Shane telling me to come home…and felt a pang of guilt.
Not over leaving Willow Grove—because I wasn’t leaving Willow Grove.
Over letting Shane down.
But I didn’t get a chance to dwell on that, because Whit was extending his hand to me. He really did look like Beau…just a bit more windblown and road-weary, with dark circles under his eyes and rings on every finger. I didn’t feel bad for guessing he was her boyfriend; they looked like each other’s type.
“And you’re Noelle,” Whit said. “The radio girl?”
“Yeah,” I chuckled, shaking his head. “The radio girl.”
“Delilah said you’re lookin’ for stories about the Gloamstrider,” Whit offered. “I’ve got one. That’s why I’m here—plus, I wanted to get a look at Beau’s?—”
Beau cleared his throat.
I narrowed my eyes, looking between them.
“Beau’s…friend,” Whit said, cocking one scarred eyebrow.
Wow. Subtle.
I didn’t point out the other thing less than subtle about him—how he edged close to Delilah, how she didn’t push himaway. She claimed he wasn’t her boyfriend…but I wasn’t buying it.
Maybe not officially, but there was something going on.
“Okay,” I said. “So…you’ve got a Gloamstrider story? You mind if I record it?”
Whit shook his head. “Go for it. Been wonderin’ when I would get my moment in the spotlight.”
“Your head issofar up your own ass it’s ridiculous,” Delilah muttered.
“What can I say?” Whit grinned. “I’ve got a nice ass.”
“Jesus,” Beau grunted.
I laughed as I got my recorder out and put it on the table between the four of us, the pressed record. Whit glanced down at it.
