New Arrivals: His Inherited Family. Barbara Dunlop

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      Lucas hated to admit it, but he could see her point. “I don’t have an answer that’s going to satisfy you,” he admitted out loud. “All I know for sure is that I can trust me.”

      She gave a small, rueful smile. “And I can trust me.”

      They both stared at each other for a long moment of silence.

      “Stalemate,” he stated fatalistically.

      “New topic,” she told him, lifting her glass. “Nice rescue on the catamaran. Lexi asked me to thank you again.”

      “I haven’t been sailing in a while,” he answered, itching to continue the debate until she capitulated, but knowing the time wasn’t right. “That part was fun.”

      “Sorry about the suit,” Devin offered.

      “Funny how I keep losing my clothes around you.”

      She glanced away, and he realized his double entendre had embarrassed her. Hell, he hadn’t meant it that way. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Truth was, he had.

      Damn it. Not good.

      He took another sip of the wine. The taste seemed to be growing on him.

      “Do you like sailing?” he asked, trying to bring the conversation onto some neutral ground.

      She picked up the conversation thread, obviously relieved to move on. “Yes, I do. And Amelia seems to love it. She’s a water baby.”

      “You’ll have to come out on the Sound someday.” “You have a sailboat?”

      “A little bigger than the catamaran,” he said. “We’d probably have to bring a crew.” “A crew? “

      “Three or four guys.”

      “Just how big is this sailboat?”

      “Forty-six feet.”

      She chuckled. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a little bigger than the catamaran.”

      “We could do dinner,” he offered, knowing it sounded like a date, but not particularly caring. He found himself liking the idea of an evening sailing with Devin. And Steve certainly wouldn’t be able to get his hands on her if they were on the water.

      “With a boat that size, we could sail all the way to Vancouver.”

      “Sure,” he said, shrugging. They could go wherever she liked.

      She sat back in her chair, twirling her wineglass between her fingers. “It’s some life you’re living, Lucas Demarco.”

      Lucas glanced around the deck, realizing the homey atmosphere was growing on him. “It’s a nice life you’re living here, too.”

      “Not at the moment,” she returned tartly.

      He sighed. “You want to fight with me or accept my compliment on your house? “

      “My house can’t possibly impress you.”

      Lucas leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You, Devin Hartley, are an extraordinarily difficult person with whom to carry on a pleasant conversation.”

      She set down her glass and leaned forward to match his posture. “And you, Lucas Demarco, are extraordinarily bad at hiding your condescension.”

      “I like your house,” he protested. “Well, not the bathroom.” He glanced up. “And these patio lanterns? Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing you’re—”

      He stopped himself.

      Had he been about to tell her she was beautiful? What the hell was going on in his mind? “You have a great view.” He gave a mock toast to the moon and the darkened lake.

      She tipped her head back to look. “What’s wrong with the lanterns? “

      He checked out the faded plastic blobs, some of them warped, and the sagging wire where they hung. “They look like a fire hazard,” he pointed out.

      “My mother bought those lanterns.”

      Lucas didn’t now how to respond to that.

      Devin’s voice rose. “My mother loved those lanterns.”

      “I’m uh… sorry?”

      “Sorry that you insulted my home, or sorry that my mother has bad taste? “

      There was something in her incredulous tone that didn’t quite ring true, and Lucas realized she was fighting not to laugh.

      “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

      She grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “They came with the house,” she admitted. “But I like them. They make it, I don’t know, festive out here. It feels like we’re having a party every night.”

      “Is that how you see life?” Lucas was genuinely curious. “One big party.”

      “This, from the playboy of the Pacific Northwest?” “Playboy?” He raised his brows.

      “I’ve seen the pictures. I’ve read the articles. Your party schedule is a lot fuller than mine.” She waggled her finger at him. “You have had a very long list of girlfriends.”

      “Most of them were just dates.”

      “You mean one-night stands?”

      “Like I’m going to tell you about my sex life.”

      She lowered her voice to a whisper, glancing dramatically from side to side. “Too embarrassing?” He leaned closer. “Too boring.”

      A burst of laughter jumped out of her, and she rocked back in her chair. He noticed her wineglass was empty. So was his.

      “That was not what I was expecting you to say,” she admitted.

      “More wine?” he asked, reaching for her glass.

      She contemplated the question for a second. “Sure.”

      He rose to head back to the kitchen.

      “Is this your way out of an embarrassing conversation?” she called after him.

      He set the glasses down on her counter and refilled them, not about to shout back to her and wake Amelia.

      But when he stepped back on the patio, she was clearly waiting to see how he’d respond.

      “What’s embarrassing about dating beautiful women?” He set both glasses down on the table.

      “I was talking about your boring sex life.”

      “You going to tell me about yours?” he challenged.

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