Hunter √

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

THE LONG DING DONGGG echoed in Devon's head and her hand stalled on the lid of a mayonnaise jar.

A strange tingling swept through her, part fear, part excitement. Suddenly, she didn't know whether to answer the door or run like hell.

It was him.

She felt it in the way her nipples tightened and her legs trembled. Her stomach hollowed out and her heart went into overdrive.

Yeah, right.

It could be anyone at her front door.

Mrs. Barthels from next door. The woman loved to stop by and gripe about something. Devon's rose bushes were too high. Her patio lights were too bright.

Little Jnney McCee. She was a Girl Scout and cookie season had just started.

Mr. Bonney. He'd been trying to sell her tickets to the VFW barbecue since last week.

Lare Jackson. Whenever her no-good husband didn't come home, she always went looking for him. She'd caught Cal with Devon's older sister. Lucy, only once. But that was all it taken to throw a veil of suspicious on Devon herself. She was a Rivers, after all. Translation?

Trashy and no good. No man was safe and so whenever Cal came up missing. Lara always paid Devon a very unpleasant visit.

That would stop if she married Greg.

If?

There was no if. She was marrying him.

The door bell rang again before she could worry over the doubt that whispered through her. She gathered her control and set the mayonnaise jar to the side.

It wasn't Hunter, and there was one  way to prove it.

She made it three steps before the back door flew open. Shock bolted through Devon and she whirled as a tall, leggy redhead waltzed in.

Lucy Rivers was just two years older than Devon, but too many nights of drinking and smoking made it seem more like ten. The wear and tear dulled her bright blue eyes just enough to give her that jaded look. However worn and worldly, she was still a beautiful girl. She had an hour glass figure that would have made Jessica Simpson envious, and long, silky hair that flowed to her waist.

With the right clothes, she could have looked like any other barmaid down at the Iron Horse. She wore the standard uniform---a pair of Daisy Duke shorts, red cowboy boots and a Hawaiian print tube top. Bright red lipstick coloured her full mouth and heavy black pencil rimmed her blue eyes.

"What's up, Randy?"

"Geez, you scared the crap put pf me." Devon drew a deep breath." i thought you were at the front door."

She glanced down the hallway, but there wsn't much as a shadow on the other side of the oval glass that sat in the middle of the door.

"Why wait around when i know you leave the back door unlocked? Besides, we're family. What's yours is mine. Mi casa, su casa. Mi sandwich, su sandwich." She grinned and picked up the turkey and Swiss Devon had just made.

"Wait---" Devon started, but Lucy's mouth had already closed over the corner.

She took a huge bite and chewed.

"Kudos, Sis. You make one hell of a sandwich. I'm terrible with cooking."

"Its's a sandwich. It's pretty much fool proof if you've got the stuff."

"Which you always have because you do grocery shopping as much better than me."

"You don't do grocery shopping period."