Read McKettrick's Heart for Free Online Page B

free hand. “I blew it big-time, Devon,” he replied, “and I’m sorry. But you’re my best girl, and I could never forget you. I’ll explain on the drive down here from Flag, okay?”
    â€œOkay,” Devon answered, brightening a little.
    â€œOn my way,” Keegan said.
    â€œI’ll be waiting,” Devon promised.
    And she was. Long-legged and gangly, with blondish-brown hair reaching to the middle of her back and huge brown eyes, she sat on the steps in the portico at Shelley’s, an overnight bag and a giant pink teddy bear beside her.
    Seeing Keegan pull up, she leaped to her feet and snatched up the bag and the bear to hustle toward his car.
    Behind her the front door opened, and Shelley stepped out. She was a beautiful woman, and someday Devon would look just like her. A one-time flight attendant for an upscale charter jet outfit, as well as a former Playboy centerfold, Shelley had a face and body that were categorically perfect. Unfortunately, her personality wasn’t.
    Shit, Keegan thought. He’d hoped to avoid his ex-wife.
    Hell, he’d been trying to do that since about an hour after he married her.
    He got out of the car, came around to meet Shelley while Devon stowed her gear in the backseat of the Jag, then jumped in on the passenger side up front to buckle her seat belt.
    â€œShe waited all evening for you to call,” Shelley said. She was wearing a skimpy tank top and jean shorts with frayed hems—designer stuff, probably, made to look as though it came from a discount store.
    Keegan thrust out a sigh. “You could have called me, you know.”
    â€œIt’s not my job to monitor your schedule,” Shelley retorted.
    Conscious of Devon watching them through the windshield, Keegan kept his temper. “I should have called,” he said tersely. “I didn’t. Shoot me.”
    Shelley smiled bitterly. “Oh, I’d love to shoot you, Keegan. If only there weren’t that troublesome little matter of prison, I probably would.”
    Keegan unclamped his back molars by an act of will. “Sucks to be you,” he said.
    â€œYou wish,” she retorted. “Thanks to our divorce settlement, and Rory, it’s really pretty excellent to be me.”
    â€œI’m so happy for you,” Keegan told her.
    She grinned. “No, you’re not,” she countered.
    â€œYou don’t miss much, do you?”
    â€œBite me, Keegan.”
    â€œThat’s Rory’s job, thank God.”
    Shelley’s saucy little smirk faded to a pout. “Rory and I want to live in Paris,” she said. “I surfed the Internet and found a wonderful boarding school for Devon.”
    It wasn’t the first time Shelley had mentioned moving to Paris, but the boarding school was a new element. “You and Rory can go live in Riyadh, for all I care,” Keegan told her. “But you’re not taking my daughter out of the U.S. Period.”
    â€œShe’s not your daughter,” Shelley said.
    Keegan felt nothing for Shelley, but the words struck his solar plexus like a ramrod, just the same. He stole a glance in Devon’s direction. It would have been impossible for her to overhear, but for all he knew, the kid read lips. Thank God she was smiling blissfully at the prospect of a weekend on the Triple M.
    â€œWe were legally married when Devon was born,” he said evenly. “Unless you want to go on TV and let Maury Povich announce the results of a DNA test to the nation, you’re up shit creek and the paddle’s miles downstream.”
    Shelley glared.
    â€œI guess Rory could adopt her,” Keegan went on, having no intention of letting that happen while he still had a pulse, “but it would mean the end of the child support, wouldn’t it?”
    â€œI freaking hate you, Keegan McKettrick.”
    He chucked her chin, because he knew it would piss her off. “Right back at you,