Minor Adjustments

by Rachael Renee Anderson

  “She rarely does,” Jack said, grinning.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so happy.” Tears streaked down Lydia’s cheeks. She lifted Ryan from Devon’s arms and hugged him tight. “I’m making you spaghetti and homemade ice cream with TimTams the minute we get back to Portland.”

  “Yay!” Ryan shouted. “Can Aussie have some too?”

  “He can have mine,” Jack said, for once not grumbling about spaghetti and ice cream.

  Hand-in-hand, they walked out of the courthouse together and into bright sunlight. The clouds had actually parted, and Stella could literally see rays of sunshine forging through. It was as if they were telling her, “What just happened wasn’t a dream. It’s really over.”

  A moment later the clouds blocked the sun, thunder shook the skies, and rain came pouring down. Stella wanted to laugh and jump up and down, to dance and twirl in the rain. She didn’t care about her dry-clean-only suit. Ryan would be where he belonged. With Devon.

  And only one question remained: Where did Stella belong?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jack and Lydia shooed Devon and Stella out the door. “Take her out to dinner,” Lydia said. “You two deserve a relaxing evening, and we want Ryan all to ourselves tonight.”

  Stella was grateful for the chance to be alone with Devon. Now that the case had ended, she had questions. A lot of questions. She wanted to know what Devon had said to Justin and how much he’d offered him—how much more he’d had to sacrifice.

  The elevator took forever to arrive, and when the doors finally opened, Stella pulled Devon inside.

  As soon as the doors closed, she asked. “So how much did it take?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I want to know.”

  “Sorry, but you’ll have to live with never knowing because I’ll never tell you.”

  Stella squeezed his hand. The sacrifices Devon had made for Ryan seemed to rain down endlessly, like the weather from earlier that day. His job, his flat in Chicago, his former fiancée, his bachelor life of freedom.

  And now his money.

  “How can I ever thank you?” Stella focused on the glowing floor numbers. Five . . . Four . . . Three . . .

  When the elevator chimed and stopped, Devon pressed the button to keep the doors closed. Two fingers lifted her chin, and his eyes met hers. “I love Ryan, and I would do anything for him. Understand?”

  Stella nodded. Could there be a better man than him? A sensation she couldn’t quite describe, a sort of intense rush, flowed through every part of her. She felt drawn to Devon like never before. He’d done so much. Enough. He shouldn’t have to make anymore sacrifices—at least not for her.

  Devon let go of the button, and they left the hotel behind. The busyness of Sydney’s streets went unnoticed as a peace and calm overtook Stella, confirming the rightness of her decision.

  As soon as they were seated in the charming and romantic seafood restaurant, Stella blurted, “I want to move to America.” The decision had been easy—easier than deciding what meal to order.

  Devon’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. “No you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.” She was absolutely, positively, undoubtedly sure.

  “No. You don’t.”

  “I can see Ryan has taught you how to debate,” she said. “But I’ll say it again. Yes, I do.”

  “Why? You can’t use your law degree in America. You’d be giving up your career, and I won’t let you do that.”

  Oh, he did not just say that. “You won’t let me? I’m sorry, but you have no say in the matter. I can move to America if I want to.”

  “Why? I thought we’d already agreed that Ryan and I would move here.”

  “Because Portland is where you and Ryan belong. It’s where Lindsay would want you to be, and it’s as far away from Justin as you can possibly get.”

  Devon’s hand reached for hers. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.”

  “I did too.”

  “No,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “You told me why Ryan and I should stay in America, not why you want to move there.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Nope.” Devon was teasing her. He knew exactly why she wanted to move, but the smile in his eyes challenged her to say the words out loud.

  “Are you fishing for compliments?”

  “One should do the trick.”

  Stella laughed. “Fine. I’m moving to America because I want to be where you and Ryan are. And unlike you, I’m sure I can think of something to do with my life. I could write for an international magazine, teach, or maybe even become a counselor. I did get an undergraduate degree in psychology, you know.”

  His lips twitched. “That explains a lot.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your impressive ability to manipulate people, for one thing.”

  “Maybe. But that degree was also supposed to help me understand people, which I don’t. Here I am, telling you I’m willing to move to your country so I can be with you and Ryan, and you’re trying to convince me not to. Is this your way of telling me your feelings have changed?”

  “My feelings for you will never change. I just don’t want to see you give up something you love so much.”

  “Even if it’s for something I love even more?”

  For once, Devon was speechless. Brown eyes stared into hers before a gradual smile stretched across his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I kissed you right now?”

  Chills ran up her arms. Delightful, happy chills. “No. I’d be embarrassed if you didn’t. It’s not every day I declare something like that in public.”

  Devon grinned as he brought his lips to hers in a kiss that made Stella forget they were in a restaurant.

  Well, almost forget. A throat cleared next to their table. It was their waiter, holding two steaming plates.

  Devon leaned back in his seat. “Sorry, man, but there’s only so much temptation a guy can take.”

  Stella’s cheeks infused with heat.

  “No worries.” The waiter grinned. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No,” Stella said. “And thanks. It smells delicious.”

  “Enjoy your dinner . . . and the entertainment.” The waiter winked at Devon and left.

  “You gotta love Australia,” Devon said, then lowered his voice. “You know, we could always have the waiter wrap this up and take it back to your place so we can eat and ‘entertain’ ourselves in private.”

  “Oh, stop it.” Really, though, Stella loved the teasing. It warmed her and brought a silly giddiness to her stomach.

  “Then how about a race?” he suggested.

  “A race?”

  “First one finished gets to decide whether we live here or in Portland.”

  Stella dropped her fork. “Finished.”

  “Brilliant,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Devon.” He couldn’t be serious.

  But he was already flagging down the waiter. When asked to box up their order, the look on the waiter’s face made Stella cover her mouth to muffle her laughter.

  The boxes remained on the table as Devon dragged Stella out of the restaurant, around a corner, and down a less populated, quieter street. Finding a dark corner, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless.

  Or at least tried to. Unfortunately, Stella’s giggles interrupted them. She couldn’t stop. Every time her eyes closed, the waiter’s bemused face appeared, and she erupted all over again.

  Devon finally gave up. “You’re ruining the moment, you know.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But did you see how the waiter looked at us? Priceless.”

  “Obviously we need to get your mind off that waiter and back on me, where it belongs.” Devon grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street. “Let’s see if one of your random facts will do the trick.”

  It worked. The waiter forgotten, Stella groaned. “When are you going to stop making me do this?”

&nb
sp; “When you tell me something I already know.”

  “Oh. Well in that case, did you know that chickens lay eggs?”

  “No, I didn’t. That’s fascinating.”

  “Rubbish.” She should’ve known he’d say that.

  Devon continued to pull her along. The street had a dark, vacant feel, and Stella suddenly wanted to be back in his arms.

  “Since you’ve finally run out of random facts, mind if I have a turn?” Devon asked.

  “Do you really think you can come up with something I don’t already know?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “By all means, then, have a go.”

  Devon’s steps slowed, and he scanned the street, as if making sure they were alone. Brown eyes back on her, he said, “Did you know that when an American guy falls in love with a gorgeous Australian girl, it guarantees him good luck for the rest of his life?”

  Stella’s heart down-shifted from fifth to first gear, nearly stopping altogether. She could hardly breathe. “If that’s true, you must not be in love with me. You’ve had horrible luck since we met.”

  “How do you know it’s you I’m talking about?”

  “A woman’s intuition.”

  “Fair enough,” Devon said. “And you’re right. I have had horrible luck since I met you. On the other hand, I would still be a single workaholic living in downtown Chicago with no one to come home to, no one to call me Dad, and no one to kiss. Call me crazy, but I kind of like my new life.”

  “Really?”

  Devon’s arms circled her waist. “Really.”

  Stella felt like a teenager who’d been asked out by her first real crush. Only better. So, so, so much better. Actually, there was no comparison. “Well, that’s all fine for you, but what about the Aussie girl? Does she get any guarantees?”

  “Sorry, did I leave that part out?” He pulled her closer. “She is promised a ready-made family with a busy child, a dodgy house, a big dog, and all the fish she could ever want.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” Actually, it sounded wonderful, like a slice of heaven.

  “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

  Stella picked at a piece of lint from his shirt. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just propose?” she teased.

  “I don’t know. Did you just say yes?”

  Stella smiled. All her life she’d had the occasional girlhood fantasy of a guy kneeling down in front of her, speaking words of adoration, telling her how much he loved her, how he couldn’t live without her—wait a minute.

  “No, I did not just say yes.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” she repeated. “Because you forgot some very important words, Mister.”

  He paused. “Please?”

  She could tell he was enjoying this. “Strike one.”

  “Abracadabra?”

  “Strike two. One more and you’re out.”

  “I didn’t think Australians knew anything about baseball.”

  “Strike three, you’re out.”

  “That wasn’t my guess,” he said.

  “Fine. You get one more chance, so don’t blow it.”

  Devon pulled her close and kissed her long and hard, leaving her breathless. “I love you, Stella Walker,” he whispered in her ear. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gray box. Kneeling down on the sidewalk, he flipped open the lid and exposed a brilliant round diamond on a wide white-gold band.

  “Will you marry me, Stella Walker?”

  She gasped and entered a universe where time slowed and all noise disappeared except the sound of someone pounding furiously on a large bass drum. Or was that her heartbeat? The air thinned, the lights dimmed, and all that remained were her and him. Nothing else.

  “I know this is a surprise, but I’ve had this ring for a couple of months now, waiting for that nightmare of a court battle to be over. I thought I’d jinxed everything when I first bought it, but then it became my hope for a future with you and Ryan. I carried it with me everywhere, not because I planned to propose right away, but because I needed the reminder. In fact, I wasn’t even planning on proposing tonight, but after dinner . . . Well, I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “I don’t know how things will pan out or where we’ll end up, but so long as we’re together, I really don’t care.” Devon’s eyes searched hers, probing and wondering. “So what do you say, Stella? Will you marry me?”

  Stella smiled through her tears. It had been perfect, even better than her girlhood dreams. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

  Then she was in his arms again—a place she never wanted to leave.

  “Looks like my plan worked,” Devon said. “I dare you to try to think about anyone else right now.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Knock-ety, knock, knock.

  Stella waited. Then waited some more.

  When no one answered, she turned the doorknob and pushed it open. Quietly, she let herself inside and slipped off her shoes to walk across the beautiful knotty wood floor on her way to the kitchen. New maple doors hung on the cabinets, and the hideous mantel and fireplace were gone—replaced by two wooden bookcases that now flanked a gorgeous stone fireplace.

  The once dodgy house now felt like a warm and cozy home.

  A home that would soon be hers.

  Ryan’s voice floated through the open back door. Devon and Ryan were tossing a neon yellow football back and forth. Just like Lindsay had predicted. Once again, he touched Stella’s heart. She wished she had a camera to capture the moment.

  Ready to rush out the door and greet them, Stella paused. Devon’s cell phone lay unattended on the patio steps. Stepping out of sight, she reached for her phone and called his number.

  A few seconds later, the opening bars of “Danger Zone” from the Top Gun soundtrack rang through the air. Really? That’s what he’d set as her ringtone? Or maybe it was just the regular ringtone for all his calls.

  Through the crack in the door, Stella saw Devon jog over and pick up the phone without looking at the display. “Hey, beautiful,” he said. “Seven days and counting.”

  The ringtone was hers, and hers alone. What a toad! Stella stepped out from behind the door and stared at his back. “Make that zero.”

  “What?”

  “ ‘Danger Zone’? Really? That’s the ringtone you picked for your soon-to-be wife—the so-called love-of-your-life?”

  Devon twisted around and a grin split his face. “If the shoe fits,” he said, taking a step toward her.

  Stella stepped back. “Well, it doesn’t fit, whatever that’s supposed to mean. You keep forgetting I’m an Aussie and not familiar with all of your ridiculous colloquialisms. And don’t you dare take another step until you promise to change that song.”

  “To what? ‘Ball and Chain’?” Another step closer.

  A step back. “I’m not laughing. Try again.”

  “ ‘Maneater’?” Another step forward.

  Stella held up her hand. “If you keep that up, you might as well change it to ‘Where Were You on Our Wedding Day?’ ”

  “Why are we still talking on the phone?”

  “You tell me.”

  Devon shoved his phone into his pocket. “There. Now if you come and kiss me in the next five seconds, I might change it to ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You.’ ”

  “That’s a bit cheesy, isn’t it? No, I want something brilliant, classic, not insulting, and definitely not cheesy. What about U2’s ‘All I Want Is You’?”

  “Deal,” he said. “And so true. Now come here.”

  Stella ran into his arms. He drew her close and kissed her long and hard, making up for the eight weeks they’d spent apart.

  “Stella!” Ryan squealed, wrapping his little arms around her legs.

  She knelt to give Ryan a hug and kiss. “I’ve missed you, love. But now we never have to say good-bye again. I’m here to stay.”r />
  Ryan grabbed her hand and pulled her to the backyard. “Come see Aussie’s new trick. I taught him all by myself.” He then demonstrated Aussie’s newfound ability to run after a stick and bring it back.

  “Do you want to try?” he asked.

  “I’d love to.” Stella heaved the slimy, slobbery stick across the yard. Aussie panted after it, and Ryan panted after Aussie.

  Devon’s arms wound around Stella’s waist from behind. “We weren’t expecting to see you until next week. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming sooner? We would have picked out a balloon bouquet and met you at the airport. How did you get here anyway?”

  “A cab. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did,” he said. “And I’m glad. I was wondering how I’d survive another week without you.”

  Stella rested her head against his chest and laughed when Ryan tried to climb on top of Aussie. The dog bounded away, leaving Ryan in a heap on the ground.

  Devon nuzzled Stella’s neck. “Ryan wants me to make Aussie a saddle.”

  “Why don’t you just upgrade to a pony? That way you can buy a saddle.”

  “No way. And if you ever bring that up around Ryan, I’m going to paint the fireplace white again.”

  Stella twisted and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him. “No worries. I love the fireplace too much. Besides, it’s not as if I want a pony either.”

  “Good. At least we agree on that. No more pets.”

  “I’m hungry,” Ryan called. “And thirsty.”

  “Me too,” said Stella. “What should we make for dinner?”

  Devon shrugged. “I had planned on ordering a pizza, but we could make hamburgers if you’d rather have that.”

  Stella clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Or better yet, Aussie burgers.”

  “You’d better not be talking about our dog,” Devon said.

  “Very funny,” she said. “Do you have pickled beets?”

  Devon made a face. “No.”

  “Pineapple?”

  “Maybe in a can.”

  “Bacon?”

  “Of course.”