When You Dance With The Devil (Dafina Contemporary Romance) by Gwynne Forster Page A

shame, she couldn’t utter a word.
    He put the beer bottle on the bar and stood. “Stop beating hell out of yourself, babe. It’s no problem. There’s always another woman.”
    When she got inside the boarding house, she sneaked up the stairs as quietly as she could, but when she opened her door it creaked as if its hinges had rusted, a sound she hadn’t previously heard. She opened her cell phone, saw that she had four messages and closed it without checking, for she knew Gregory had called her.
    “Well, if he had been warmer the last two times we were together, maybe I wouldn’t have forgotten to call him,” she said to herself. You shouldn’t have made a date with Bob knowing you had one with another man, her conscience nagged. She shrugged, undressed and crawled into bed as her watch confirmed that it was one-thirty, later than she had ever been out of the house in her life. She set the clock alarm to seven-thirty. If she went to church, maybe Gregory would forgive her.
     
     
    It did not surprise Gregory that Jolene went to church that Sunday morning, for he knew she would be seeking ways to make amends. He didn’t care what excuse she gave. If Miss Fannie didn’t know where Jolene went or with whom, that meant Jolene had deliberately stood him up. Lately, he had developed misgivings about her, but he had been willing to trust her until she proved unworthy of it. He’d never cared for women who expected gifts from men, and she had sorely tested him when she hinted that she’d like to have a television. Giving her a cell phone had sent her the wrong signal.
    His anger at having been stood up, wasting his Saturday afternoon, had already abated, and he was glad, because he had been furious enough to insult her. His passion for her had tempered, and as far as he was concerned, her behavior the previous afternoon had served as a wakeup call. He’d been traveling too fast. She was still in him, but he didn’t have to do anything about it.
    As soon as the service ended, he left church by a side door, walked around to the front and waited. She came out of the front door and he walked directly up to her.
    “Where were you yesterday at one o’ clock?” She didn’t have a car, so someone must have taken her somewhere, someone whose company she preferred to his. She gaped at him, and he knew he’d caught her off guard.
    “Hi. I . . . I meant to call you, but—”
    He cut her off. “I don’t care about that. Where were you? Miss Fannie couldn’t imagine your whereabouts.”
    “Are you going to fall out with me about it?”
    “Definitely not. That would be a further waste of my mental energy. See you around.” He dashed across M. L. King Jr. Avenue to Delaware Heights where he’d parked his car, got into it, and headed home. One woman was able to trick him because he was an idealist. If another one duped him, it would be proof that he was a fool. He was not a fool.

Chapter Three
     
    Judd adjusted the pillow that separated him from the straw bottom of the white rocking chair on Fannie’s side porch, leaned back, and let the salty breeze sweep over him as he rocked. Richard didn’t think he had ever seen a man more at peace with all that was around him. He asked himself why Judd radiated contentment, while he himself was beset with agitation. Finding no answer, he put the question to Judd.
    “Old people don’t expect anything of themselves, and nobody expects them to do anything but waste away. If one of us starts being useful, there’s hell to pay, and we’re accused of taking jobs from the young people who have families to support. Never mind that we have to eat, and nobody’s prepared to give us anything.” What was he supposed to say to that? He hadn’t given the matter any thought.
    “Oh yes,” Judd went on. “You want to know why you can’t relax and live off your bank account. Well, it’s because people expect a man your age to work, and you think that way, too. Find something to