Flirting with Destiny. Christyne Butler

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      Hell, he and Gage had a history that went back to playing football together in high school. He was also the one who took Dev to his first AA meeting. “Yeah, I know.”

      “Or maybe there’s someone else you’d like to talk to?”

      Meaning his sponsor.

      Mac had been there for Dev from the very beginning. They’d met at a local meeting, bonding over a shared love of flying, and soon Dev had asked the older man to be the one person he could turn to, anytime day or night, the one person who’d understand the fight Dev faced as he struggled for sanity, for sobriety.

      For his life.

      Dev pulled in a deep breath, and then slowly released it. The crisis had passed. He’d faced temptation before and would again. Recognizing the want and walking away was something he’d done on a daily basis, especially over the last few months. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

      There was that head tilt again.

      “I mean it, Racy. Just let me enjoy my meal.” He paused, searching for a way to lighten the mood. His gaze flicked to the end of the bar. “And the view.”

      Racy grinned. “Forget it, Murphy. She’s only twenty-three.”

      “Ouch. Now, you’re making me feel old.”

      “You’re not old.” Racy fiddled with something behind the bar out of his sight. “She’s just too young.”

      Dev reached for his burger. “Doesn’t look that way from here.”

      “She was still in elementary school when you were going to fraternity parties at the University of Wyoming.”

      “Thanks a lot.” Okay, that was too young even if he had been interested. Dev took a bite of his burger, chewed and then swallowed, watching as Racy hovered nearby. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

      “I’m not babysitting.” She wiped down the already clean areas on either side of him. “I’m working.”

      “Yeah, right.”

      “You do realize the Blue Creek belongs to me, right? That means I get to decide where and when—”

      A buzzing noise had Racy dropping the rag and reaching for the cell phone tucked into a rear pocket. Her face lit up with a big smile as she hit a button and pressed the phone to her ear.

      “Hey, honey. How’s the world’s sexiest sheriff?” She offered Dev a quick wink, then laughed. “Yes, I can feel you blushing from here.”

      Devlin just shook his head as Racy stepped away to have a private conversation with her husband. Sometimes it still amazed him that Racy and Gage, two people as different as night and day, had fallen in love and married, but he’d stood up for them at their wedding.

      Something he hadn’t been able to do for Adam and Fay.

      His sister-in-law had been almost four months pregnant by the time she and Adam had worked out their issues last summer, and they hadn’t wanted to wait any longer to get married.

      He’d ended up watching a video of their September wedding from his hospital bed, unable to keep his promise to be his eldest brother’s best man.

      At least he’d been back on his feet, sort of, when the newest member of the Murphy family, Adam Alistair Murphy Jr., A.J. for short, had arrived back in February.

      “How about a fresh piece of apple pie topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for dessert?”

      Racy’s question pulled Dev from his thoughts, and he realized she’d finished her call and had cleared away his empty plate. “No, thanks.”

      He climbed off the bar stool, leaning heavily against the bar as he dug for his wallet. Damn, his leg felt like jelly and he’d left the cane his physical therapist insisted he still needed in his Jeep.

      “Time for me to head back to work.”

      She smiled and gave his hand a quick squeeze after taking his money. “You plan to stop by the firehouse on your way?”

      That question caught him by surprise. “No. Why?”

      “No reason. It’s just that your name comes up whenever any of the team is here. I thought they’d like to know one of their best and brightest volunteers is up and around.”

      Yeah, up and around, but nowhere close to being able to rejoin the department. If ever. No, he wasn’t ready to face his former coworkers yet.

      Dev shoved his wallet back in his pocket and offered a quick prayer he wouldn’t fall on his face when he turned around. “See you later, Racy. Thanks for the great meal.”

      “Say hi to your family.”

      Dev acknowledged her words with a wave, hating the ever-present limp that marked his walk as he headed out. His family said the slight hitch in his step wasn’t as noticeable as Dev thought, but it was just another reminder of how much his life had changed in the last year.

      Making his way across the gravel parking lot, he opened the door to his Jeep and climbed inside, trying to ignore the fresh round of pain racing through his veins.

      Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea.

      As wonderful as his family had been since the accident, Dev had been desperate to get out on his own again. Lord knew he hadn’t had a moment to himself in the last four months except when he was in bed at night. Even then, either one of his parents or Liam—the only brother who still lived in the log mansion that was the family home—would check in.

      He appreciated all they’d done for him. Hell, with two broken arms he’d been like a baby, relying on his family for everything from his meals to bathing. It’d been three months since the casts were removed and still everyone hovered.

      He needed space to think, to breathe.

      And despite his father’s offer to replace the four-wheel drive Wrangler with something that made it easier to get behind the wheel, Dev had insisted on keeping it—it was the vehicle he’d bought the day he kicked his drinking habit.

      “But why the Blue Creek?” he asked his reflection in the rearview mirror as he turned over the engine and backed out of the parking space. “Why not go to Sherry’s Diner? Or grab a sandwich at Doucette’s Bakery?”

      He didn’t have an answer, or didn’t want to come up with one, so he cranked up the radio as he slowed to a stop at the parking lot exit, waiting for the chance to pull onto the street.

      Diagonally across from him was White’s Liquors, a red brick building with a faded red, white and blue advertisement from the 1940s to buy war bonds still visible on the side.

      When old man White had been alive, he’d had the ad repainted every five years in honor of the two brothers he’d lost during the war, but his kids owned the place now and the anniversary of the repainting had come and gone last fall without being touched up.

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