We all turned toward the hall where Devlin’s voice boomed out of nowhere. The hallway was shadowed so it was hard to make out anything except a gray man-shaped silhouette taking up most of the doorway to the hall.
“It’s getting late,” he finished in a slightly softer tone.
He looked and sounded intimidating, but that was what he did. That was his whole shtick. The girls all shared equal looks of shock and awe. He stepped forward so the light from the fire illuminated his mask. He was wearing the skull one again. It was decidedly ominous in the soft light of the night with the rain falling outside.
“Holy frijoles,” Gretchen muttered next to me.
After a moment I cleared my throat and slowly the girls stood and collected their things.
His gaze seared the side of my face. How long had he been standing there listening? I was desperate to see if he was looking only at me or if he was studying any of my equally lovely friends.
“Kim, you pick the next activity,” Roxy said.
“I don’t care. Whatever y’all pick is fine,” I said. “I just don’t know what my schedule is going to be like for a while,” I explained.
“Well, don’t lollygag too long.” Blithe hugged me. “We need updates about your beau.”
“Wait, another Winston brother?” Roxy said.
“No. Beau like boyfriend. Roddy,” Gretchen clarified.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Yet.” Blithe smiled sweetly.
“Thank you for coming,” Devlin said stiffly.
“Thanks for having us,” Suzie said. The others added to the sentiment.
“I’m happy to housesit anytime.” Gretchen pulled out a business card and handed to him.
He glanced over it before sliding it in his pocket with a nod.
“I’ll walk y’all out,” I said on a laugh, and brushed past Devlin.
Chapter 13
Never let them see your nerves.
DEVLIN
As the women gathered up their things, silence finally descended like a blessing. Even in my music room, twenty yards below ground, I had heard their chatter for the last few hours. Their laughs and yells leaked in as though carried through the pipes. I couldn’t think, let alone focus on composing. And then that damn crap pop song … in my house.
The room looked like a group of hobos had camped there for a weekend, not a few hours of chatty women. A whole pack of them.
Kim led the guests to the door, and chatted happily with the blonde.
“You didn’t mention the mask,” the blonde whispered.
I stilled in the shadow of the hallway as they retreated.
“He wears it all the time?” another asked.
“I sort of forgot about it,” Kim said.
“He’s a little scary.”
“Isn’t that the point?” the redhead shot back, loud enough to be heard. “Let us know about Roddy. I’m so happy for you. I know how much he means to you.”
