Page 90 of My Beautiful Sin

“Ellie…” I can practically hear the frown, but I just lift my hand in dismissal and hurry to my room. The truth is, I don’t want to think about moving in with Devlin. On the one hand, I want to be with him always. But on the other, I’m used to living alone.

But that’s not the real reason I don’t want to move in with him just yet. The real reason is that I want what was taken from us when The Wolf forced Alex’s hand. When he had to run, meaning that we never got to be anything more than a secret, tragic romance.

I want dates on the beach and picnics in the park. I want him to call me and send flowers. I want to pop by his office and drag him out for lunch and have it be all the more special because he didn’t see me in bed beside him that morning.

I want what other couples have. So far, there’s been very little about our relationship that qualifies as average. And while I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who’d long for middle of the road, as far as dating goes—as far as Devlin goes—it’s not only what I want, it’s what I need.

Which, I think, is why I have to blink back tears when I open the door to him a few minutes later to find him standing there with a bouquet of roses for Brandy and a silver-wrapped box for me.

“Can I open it?” I ask as we move toward the kitchen so Brandy can put her flowers in water. “What is it?”

“The key to your heart,” he says.

“To my heart. Not yours.” I shake the box, which is small but has some heft. “That means I’m gonna assume it’s not sexy lingerie.”

There’s a chuckle from the hallway, and we turn to see that Lamar has let himself in. “I didn’t realize it was that kind of a party. I would have worn something pink.”

“You’re hysterical,” I tell him, then hold up the package. “Brandy didn’t have to guess. Devlin brought her flowers. I’m currently trying to figure out what’s in my box.”

“Key to your heart?” Lamar repeats, then holds out his hand. I meet Devlin’s eyes, and when he shrugs, I put the box in Lamar’s outstretched hand.

Lamar makes a show of bouncing it in his hand, as if testing its weight. Then he shakes it. Then he sniffs it.

After that entertaining production, he passes it back to me. “Easy,” he says, looking from me to Devlin.

“You’re saying you know what it is?” I ask.

“Like the man said—it’s the key to your heart.”

I shake a finger between the two of them, managing a mock scowl.

“This is why she quit the force,” he tells Devlin. “Her detective skills are a little lacking.”

“I see that,” Devlin says. “It’s been a few years, though. We should probably cut her some slack.”

“You two are going to be in so much trouble,” I warn, then turn my attention to Lamar. “So? What is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s coffee?”

I look to Devlin, but he has the world’s best poker face. “Just open it,” Brandy says, and so I slide my finger under the paper, open the plain cardboard box, and find a small, solidly packed brick of Dunkin Donuts ground original roast. Utterly boring, but my absolute favorite.

And, yeah, I melt a little.

“Ya done good, man,” Lamar says, giving Devlin a friendly pat on the shoulder as I slide in for a hug.

“You just knew that?” I say, as Devlin’s arms go around me. “That he got me coffee.”

“The key to your heart? It was either coffee or a Pulitzer, and even Mr. Humanitarian of the Year here can’t arrange the second one.”

“Hell of a detective,” Devlin says, with a mock salute in Lamar’s direction as Brandy yells for me to come finish the caprese salad since the food’s almost ready.

But I don’t move. On the contrary, I just stand there, soaking it all in. Because the truth is, Lamar got it wrong. Coffee may be a weakness. But this—my friends laughing together—is the real key to my heart.

Chapter Thirty-One

Pacific Avenue is closed to traffic during the Fall Festival, and colorful booths fill the street. Fine art, crafts, jewelry, candles. Olives, salsa, cheeses, cookies. Things to buy, things to eat, and even a rotating line-up of local bands to listen to. It’s organized chaos and absolutely wonderful, albeit way too crowded.

“How come you don’t have a booth?” I ask Brandy as we check out a selection of sterling silver earrings. We’ve been at the fair since noon, and though it’s already past four, we still haven’t seen all the booths or visited all the shops.