deal.”

Dev recognized the tone of someone who was used to going up against

opponents quite a bit more daunting than car salesmen and winning. “I think I

feel sorry for them.”

“Who?”

“The attorneys who square off against you.”

Leslie laughed. “Most of the time they grossly overestimate the strength of their

cases because they fall for their own rhetoric and believe their own frequently ß

awed statistics. It’s not that difÞ cult to challenge the majority of the regulations

once you move beyond the emotion to facts.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that we’re destroying the planet?”

Leslie slid the Þ rst of three tins of lasagna into the oven. “I think you just made

my point.”

• 119 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev twisted a head of lettuce so hard it shredded in half in her hands. “I’m not

being emotional. I’m a scientist. I can cite the facts.

Better yet, I can take you down to the lake and show you the effects of thermal

alteration and industrial contamination on the Þ sh and ß oral growth.”

“I’m sure you’re an excellent scientist, Dev,” Leslie said calmly. “But there’s a

big leap between documenting changes in Þ sh populations and imposing

sweeping governmental restrictions on the corporate sector. Businesses are run

by people, you know. People who suffer because of these regulations.”

A muscle in Dev’s jaw twitched. She knew it wasn’t the time or place for this

kind of argument. Beyond that, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She doubted

that Leslie would be doing any job she didn’t believe in, as hard as it was to

fathom that she’d chosen this side of the environmental debate. She tossed the

lettuce into the strainer and reached for another head. “Fish are people too.”

“Now there’s an argument that just might win in court,” Leslie said softly.

When Dev shot her a glance, Leslie smiled and some of the tension drained from

the room. “Let’s try for an easier subject,” Dev said. “Did you get your tests

today?”

Leslie shook her head. “I can see that you’re every bit as hardheaded as you

used to be.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Yes, most of them. The big ones.” Leslie turned her back and pulled two long

loaves of Italian bread from a basket next to the stove.

“Which ones?”

“An echocardiogram and a stress test.”

Dev felt a tightness in her chest just thinking that Leslie needed to have these

kinds of examinations. As casually as she could, she said,

“And?”

“There’s nothing structurally wrong with my heart.”

Dev slammed the lettuce down on the table, crossed to Leslie, and grabbed her

by the shoulders. She pulled her around until they were facing one another.

“Was that supposed to satisfy me?”

“I don’t have to satisfy you. There’s no reason I need to be telling you any of

this,” Leslie snapped, her eyes ß ashing. “And you can take your hands off me

now.”

• 120 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“You’re right.” Dev lifted her hands and stepped back a pace.

“Sorry.”

“Dev—”

But Dev didn’t hear the rest of Leslie’s sentence. She was already out the back

door and halfway down the steps. She hadn’t meant to touch her. Not then. Not

now. Leslie did things to her. Stirred places inside of her that she didn’t even

know were there until they bubbled up and exploded out of her. God, she’d

thought that part of her, that crazy well of temper and helpless wanting, was

gone. Wiped out on the highway with her blood, lost during the many months of

pain while she’d struggled to Þ nd her way back to some kind of life.

It hurt to know she’d been lying to herself all this time.

• 121 •

• 122 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sitting on one of the stone benches along the shore, Dev watched the sunset,

trying to decide which was more beautiful, the beginning of the day or the

ending. Sunrise always seemed to bring the promise of possibility, and with it, an

undercurrent of joy. Nevertheless, she found this time of day to be her favorite,

even though it always made her a little bit sad for something she couldn’t name.

Tonight, mist rose from the lake, and as the sun dropped behind the mountains,

its last blue and purple rays were strewn across the water like angels cast out of

heaven.

“It’s almost too beautiful to look at, isn’t it?” Leslie said quietly.

Dev continued to stare at the lake. She hadn’t heard Leslie approach.

“Sometimes I wonder why I live anywhere else. I think your parents might have

the most beautiful spot on earth right here.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?”

“No, go ahead.”

After a few moments passed in silence and the colors leached from the sky,

leaving behind a pewter gray that would soon become black, Dev glanced at

Leslie. She’d changed into a V-neck sweater and jeans.

Her hair was loose, and in the hazy light, she could have passed for twenty. Dev

was stunned at an unexpected twist of longing and desire.

“I’m sorry about what happened in the kitchen. I—”

“No,” Leslie said quickly. “I’m sorry. That’s what I came to tell you.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I didn’t. But your cabin was dark and your truck is still in the lot.”

After the guests were taken care of, she’d gone looking for Dev. At Þ rst

• 123 •

RADCLY fFE

when she’d seen that Dev wasn’t in her cabin, she’d thought Dev had probably

gone somewhere with Natalie. It was pretty clear they were dating, and why

that should bother her, she didn’t know. But it seemed to put her in a foul mood.

All the way home from the hospital, she’d been looking forward to seeing Dev

and then when Dev had mentioned taking the afternoon off to spend with

Natalie out on the lake, she’d felt foolish. The conversation about work and

Dev’s obvious disdain had frayed the last bit of her nerves, and she’d lost her

temper. She never lost her temper. She never behaved like this at all. Constantly

examining her every feeling. She didn’t ruminate, she acted.

“You’ve been a great help in the last few days,” Leslie said, determined to get

back on sane footing. “And I want you to know I appreciate it.”

“I didn’t mean to get so personal tonight,” Dev replied. “I shouldn’t have

badgered you about the tests.”

“It’s okay. It was…nice of you…to be concerned.” Leslie meant it, and

couldn’t help but wonder why Rachel hadn’t asked. To be fair, though, she had

downplayed the entire thing with everyone.

Dev couldn’t help herself. “Did everything else turn out okay?

Besides the echocardiogram?”

Leslie sighed. “Not exactly. At the very end of the stress test I had a little bit of

that irregular heartbeat thing happen. Nothing terrible, and I didn’t really have

any symptoms. I was a little short of breath, but I was running uphill at Þ ve

miles an hour.”

“So what did they say?”

“Oh, the usual. I should follow up with my physician. I should take my

medication. I should avoid stimulants and stress—” Leslie snorted. “That should

be simple enough.”

“So you’re going to do all that, right?”

It was almost dark, but Leslie could see Dev’s eyes shining in the moonlight.

Intense and penetrating. She’d know her eyes anywhere.

She’d know her voice anywhere too. Husky and low.

“I suppose,” Leslie said. She’d already decided to take the prescription

medication she’d been provided, at least on a trial basis.

Hopefully that would balance the coffee, because she had no intention of giving

that up . As to the stress, she couldn’t very well change her life.

“That’s good.” Dev’s hand was only an inch away from Leslie’s leg, but she

resisted the urge to touch her. “Any news on your dad?”

• 124 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I talked to my mother right before I came down here. He’s hungry and wants

to come home.” Leslie laughed. “Very positive signs.”

“Great news.”

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll be a lot happier recuperating here than in the hospital.”

“I can guarantee that.”

Leslie caught her breath. Would they ever be able to talk without the past

between them? Compelled by emotions that had lain buried since that night, she

spoke almost without volition. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you in the

hospital.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” Dev said quietly.

“That doesn’t matter. I should have come.” Leslie drew her legs up onto the

bench and wrapped her arms around them. She rested her cheek on her knee,

watching Dev’s face, which was clearer now that the moon had risen. “I don’t

have any excuses, Dev.”

Dev traced her Þ ngertips lightly over the back of Leslie’s hand, then pulled

back. “You don’t need any. You were young. We both were.

It was all pretty confusing.”

“You were my friend and I let Mike hurt you.” Leslie ruthlessly quelled the tears

that threatened to Þ ll her eyes. “I hurt you. I don’t expect you to forgive me,

but I want you to know I regret it—have regretted it ever since that night.”

“Leslie,” Dev said softly. “You couldn’t have stopped Mike. And I…I shouldn’t

have kissed you. It just happened.”

“I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t have any idea…I swear.” Leslie gripped Dev’s

arm. “I didn’t know what I was feeling back then. I didn’t know what was

happening between us.”

Dev couldn’t bear to hear the anguish in Leslie’s voice. She cupped Leslie’s

cheek and traced her thumb along the edge of her jaw.

“I know. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

“No! It wasn’t your fault. There was no fault.” Leslie caught Dev’s hand,

pressed her lips to Dev’s palm. “How could there be, when we loved each

other?”

Leslie’s touch, Leslie’s words—the nearness of her. It was more than Dev

could take. She pushed her hand into Leslie’s hair and kissed her. It was so like

that Þ rst kiss, and so much more. She hadn’t known then what lay beyond the

soft warmth of Leslie’s mouth, just as she hadn’t fully recognized what her own

body craved. She knew now with aching clarity. When Leslie’s lips parted to

allow her entrance, Dev

• 125 •

RADCLY fFE

kissed her more deeply. She wrapped an arm around Leslie’s waist and pulled

her tightly to her. Leslie’s tongue met hers, not hesitantly, but every bit as

questing. Every bit as demanding.

Leslie Þ sted Dev’s shirt in both hands, pulling Dev closer still.

Dev reeled under an onslaught of sensation. Leslie’s mouth was so hot, her

body so Þ rm and pliant as it cleaved to every curve of her own.

When Leslie drew one thigh high over Dev’s so their legs entwined, Dev

groaned as heat rushed through her. She broke the kiss and crushed her mouth

to Leslie’s throat.

“God, Les,” Dev moaned.

Leslie arched her neck and clasped the back of Dev’s head, pressing her ß esh

against Dev’s teeth, wanting to be devoured. She snaked her hand beneath

Dev’s waistband and yanked her shirt free, wild for the feel of Dev’s skin.

When Dev’s hand skimmed beneath her sweater and closed over her breast,

she cried out and raked her nails up Dev’s abdomen.

Dev levered herself over Leslie’s body and braced her hands on the back of the

stone bench on either side of Leslie’s shoulders. While her mouth roamed

ravenously over Leslie’s throat and jaw and mouth, she ground her hips

between Leslie’s legs. When she felt Leslie’s Þ ngers dig into her ass and

Leslie’s hips surge to meet her, the roaring in her head drowned out all thought.

She was back in that other night, helpless with longing, drowning in emotions she

couldn’t even name. Leslie was her answer. Leslie was everything.