Every Glance (Every Life #3) (12 page)

It was exhausting, but completely worth it. We had a reporter from the newspaper follow us around all day, snapping pictures of the kids and talking to the people who run the home about how the nearly-depleted finances were affecting the kids.

The very next week, the front page of the paper was covered with their faces. There were many children they couldn’t publicize because of the fear that someone would come looking for them, but the ones we could show really tugged on my heart. And obviously a few more hearts.

That front page spread resulted in $25,000 in donations and, by the end of the month, there were 9 adoptions in the works. I knew if people could just see how spectacular those kids are, they’d want to help them somehow.

Pulling the box of leftover scrubs out of the closet lets me relive that feeling all over again, and it reminds me of the reason I’m meeting up with Simon and Devyn today. It’s for him. The kid needs to know he has a friend and to have some fun. This isn’t about my past with Devyn at all. I have to remember that.

I find a size that should fit him, hoping he doesn’t think it’s dumb, and toss them over the back of my couch. By the time I get my shower and make a few calls to reserve everything for our weekend in Orange Beach, it’s time to get over to the clinic. Thankfully, I’m feeling a lot better about it now that I’ve put it into perspective.

The slight drizzle of rain on my windshield is just enough to annoy me, but not enough to bother with the wipers. That’s the thing about living here: the weather is always temperamental. Just over an hour ago, the sun was shining and there were only a few puffy clouds in the sky. And now the sky is filled with a hazy grey and the winds are making it hard to keep my car straight on the road.

As soon as I pull into the lot, the sky opens up in a torrential downpour, quickly forming puddles in the lower parts of the concrete. I park in one of the spaces near the front door and kill the engine. I wish I’d known it was going to rain like this, so I would’ve grabbed an umbrella. Biting the bullet, I shove my phone into my jeans and dart out into the rain and up under the awning, realizing after I’m soaking wet that there’s a jacket in my backseat. I hope the weather doesn’t make Devyn change her mind about bringing Simon. It’ll be weeks before we have another chance to do this. We exchanged numbers last night, so surely she would’ve called me to cancel by now.

But before I can even get my key into the lock all the way, a black BMW M6 pulls into the space next to mine, and I can see Simon bouncing around in the backseat after unbuckling his seatbelt. I’m glad to see he’s as excited as I hoped he’d be.

Devyn squeals as she gets out, and she and Simon sprint for the door I’m holding open.

“Ugh! I had no idea it was supposed to rain today!” Devyn says while wrapping her arms around her middle.

“I didn’t either.” I’m too busy noticing how completely sexy Devyn looks with wet hair to say much else.

“Hey, Dalton,” Simon says with a half wave.

“Hey, buddy!” I break my trance and ruffle his hair. “You sound a lot better. I’m glad you were able to come today.”

“He is, too,” Devyn chuckles. “He was already dressed and had his breakfast by the time I got up at seven. He’s been bouncing all over the place all day.”

“Well, does that mean you’re ready to get started?”

In a flash, a toothy grin breaks his stoic expression. “Yeah!”

I glance over at Devyn to tell her she can come into the lab or sit in the waiting room—hoping she chooses the latter—when I notice the goose bumps covering her skin. “Come on back with us,” I tell her, deciding I would be a complete jerk if I didn’t do something to get her warm.

We turn down the hallway, and I step just inside the door of my office to grab one of the lab coats hanging on the back of the door. “Here. Put this on, so you can warm up. It’s clean.”

She smiles in silent appreciation and slips it around her shoulders before putting her arms into the sleeves. Noticing they’re way too long, I reach out and grab the excess bit of sleeve and roll each one up until her hands are visible again.

“There. Perfect.” I turn, nearly running into Simon. “Oh! Simon, I had some scrubs for you, but I left them at home. I guess I was just too excited to get here.”

He looks defeated, but shrugs. “That’s okay.”

“No it isn’t. You need something, too.” I grab another coat from the back of the door. “Here.” I pull it around him and roll his sleeves up, too. “Now you look the part.”

“Cool,” he says, even though it’s so long that he’s stepping on the bottom.

We spend the first half hour in the lab, looking at books and talking about every bit of equipment and what everything does, while Devyn sits on a stool in the corner and stares into space. In the harsh fluorescent lighting, I can see the dark circles shadowing her eyes. The distance in them tells me that she and her husband must’ve another fight. Poor Simon.

And,
okay
, I feel sorry for her, too.

“Can we look at something under the microscope?” Simon asks. He’s peering over the edge of the counter and trying hard to keep from touching it.

“Sure. There’s a box of sample slides in the cabinet. I think there’s even one with mosquito larvae.” I pull out the box and turn the microscope on while he drags over a stool to sit on.

“Really? That’s gross. But cool.”

I give him some gloves and show him how to carefully change the slides and magnification, and he immediately immerses himself in the task. I always loved playing with microscopes when I was a kid, and there’s nothing that wasn’t fair game to go in a slide. Lint, saliva, bug wings, mashed potatoes…I’ve seen it all.

I glance over my shoulder at Devyn, and she hasn’t moved at all. She’s still staring blankly at nothing with a solemn expression clouding her face.

When I touch her shoulder, she jumps and nearly falls off the stool, so I grab her elbow to steady her.

“Are you okay?” I ask when her wide eyes meet mine.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’m just tired.”

“Are you warm now?” It’s really unfair how good she looks in my lab coat.

“Much better. Thanks.”

“Good. Are we boring you to death?”

She sits up and furrows her brows. A dark strand of silky hair falls over one eye. “Do you enjoy playing twenty questions?”

Her snarky response reminds me of the old Devyn. The one I hated to love.

“As long as I’m the one asking the questions, then yes. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Kinda.” She smirks.

“Mom, you should see these. They’re really cool!” Simon never even looks up from the microscope.

I cock my head to the side and raise my eyebrows.

“Okay,” she agrees and crosses the room to stand next to Simon.

She looks at a few of his favorites, not quite as excited about it as he is, but I can tell he has her full attention.

“Can we see something real now?” Simon puts the last slide in the box very carefully and closes the lid.

I put it back into the cabinet. “Those things
are
real, buddy.”

He shakes his head, tossing his curly hair around wildly. “No, I mean…uh…can we make a slide? With, like, bacteria or something?”

I tap my chin and squint my eyes, thinking hard to come up with something he’d love. “Oh, I know. How about blood?”

“Yeah!” he shouts, his face practically bursting with excitement. I didn’t know his blue eyes could possibly get any bigger until just now. But it doesn’t last long. “Wait. You don’t mean
my
blood, do you?”

I shake my head. “If you don’t want to see yours, I’ll let you look at mine. Will that work?”

“You’d stab yourself just to let me see your blood? That’s a little weird. And a little bit awesome.”

I chuckle and head over to the sink to scrub my hands, noticing a bright smile on Devyn’s face. “What?” I ask, desperate to know what had suddenly changed her mood.

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Simon’s really excited, and that makes me happy. I’m guessing you don’t have kids?”

“Nope.” I pull out a new slide and everything I’ll need to make a blood smear.

“It’s not that it’s a bad thing either way. I just know that you’re older than Kyler, so I wasn’t sure if you were married or had kids
before
her.”

She talks as if Kyler and I are serious or something. Now, I wonder what Kyler has been telling her. “No, I haven’t been married either. And I don’t plan on it for a very long time, if ever.”

“Really? But how old are you?”

I glance down at Simon, who is clearly uninterested in our conversation and completely wrapped up in watching everything I’m doing. “Twenty-seven.”

I’m too busy swabbing my finger with alcohol and getting the lancet positioned to prick my finger to realize where this conversation is heading.

“So you’re six years older than Kyler.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’re my age.” Devyn says just as I’m stabbing the needle into my finger a little harder than I meant to.

“Whoa. Did that hurt?” Simon asks, noticing my scowl.

I shake my head. “Nah. I just don’t like poking myself that much.” Or the fact that I just told your mom that we’re the same age. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes who I am now. I guess it’s just as well. I’m going to tell her anyway.

Simon looks on as I dab a tiny drop onto the slide and smear the sample using the spreader. I’m avoiding looking at Devyn at all costs. I’m too afraid that, if I do, I’ll see recognition written all over her face.

“Why do you have to spread it out like that?” Simon isn’t picking up on my paranoia at all, thankfully.

I think about how my dad explained that same thing to me. “Well, it’s kind of like having a messy room and needing to find something. If everything is thrown together in a big pile in the floor, you can’t find what you’re looking for. But if everything is put away, or spread out, you can see everything better. Understand?”

He nods and watches me finish the slide prep and load it into the microscope. Turning it toward me, I scan around to find a good area with individual cells. When I’m satisfied, I scoot it back over in front of him. “Okay. It’s all yours.”

Simon looks up at me and smiles before peering into the microscope. Without even thinking about it, I glance over him at Devyn, who is also smiling at me.

“Thank you,” she mouths silently.

“Your blood looks so weird. Does mine look like that, too?”

“Yep. Sure does.” This kid. He kills me. “Do you see the red blood cells?”

“Mmm-hmm. Look mom! You gotta see it!”

“Okay, okay.” She leans over in front of him to look inside, and she’s close enough that I can smell her shampoo. The light floral scent is perfect on her. “It is pretty neat,” she tells Simon as she stands straight.

“Thanks, Dalton,” Simon says, throwing both arms around my waist. His voice is almost a whisper. “Maybe I can come back sometime, and we can grow something in a Petri dish.”

A kid after my own heart. “You bet. Just let me know when, okay?”

“Can we go to your house now to get the scrubs?”

Devyn gasps. “No, Simon. You don’t invite yourself to someone’s house. That’s rude. Dalton said that he’d let you come here again, so you can get them then.”

“Sorry.” Simon jumps down from the stool with his arms crossed and walks over to lean against the door frame.

“Actually,” I begin, keeping my voice low, “I really don’t mind if you want to follow me home and get them. He seems pretty excited about it, and I feel bad that I forgot.”

She looks over at Simon’s pouty face and caves. “Okay, but only for a minute.”

“Hey, Simon, would you like to come over to my house to get those scrubs now? I’m
inviting
you.” I look over my shoulder and wink at Devyn.

Wait, why did I wink at her? She’s my arch nemesis. My enemy. The evil villain who still torments my past memories. I can’t just wink at her.

“Yessss!” he yells. Jumping in the air, he looks like a happy seven-year-old kid should, and I feel like doing a little happy dance myself. I’m so glad I asked him to come today.

After I get everything cleaned up, I follow them out of the clinic and lock the door. The rain is gone again as quickly as it moved in, and the sun is beginning to peek through the haze in places. My dad always called it whiplash weather.

“So…a Challenger, huh?”

I whip my head around to Devyn, who is running a finger along the hood of my car. “Oh, yeah. It’s a ‘70 model, completely restored. My friend and I just finished it a few months ago.”

Since Sawyer got back from Iraq, he’s been a little stingy with his car, so I finally decided to ditch my truck and get my own. I was driving down the road one day, coming back from Montgomery, and I spotted it under a tarp in a little carport attached to an old barn. I just had to see what it was, so I pulled in and talked to the old woman living there. The car had been her husband’s, and he passed away six years earlier.

As soon as I pulled the dusty tarp back, I knew I had to have that car. And the old woman was a born haggler. She was more than willing to get rid of it because she knew her husband would want it to go to someone that would fix her up. But she also knew she’d make her husband proud by getting the most money she could for it.

Her husband should’ve been really,
really
proud that day.

I decided to keep my truck, just in case, but ever since Sawyer and I finished the restoration, I primarily drive the Challenger. I love the deep growl under the hood. No GPS, no satellite radio, no electric windows. Nothing but a 440 six-pack engine and American-made steel wrapped in slick black paint.

And it doesn’t hurt that the ladies love it.

“What can I say? I have a thing for American muscle.”

“So do I,” Devyn mumbles softly. I have a feeling she wasn’t talking about cars either.

“Mom! Can I ride with Dalton? I bet his car goes super fast!”

“Not a chance.” She shakes her head so fast that I don’t know how she doesn’t get dizzy. “We’ll just follow him over in our car.”

“Please, Mom?” Simon folds his hands as if in silent prayer.

I know I shouldn’t, but we guys have to stick together. “Yeah, please, Mom?”