by K-lee Klein
“Definitely!” Devon waggled his eyebrows comically. “But first, first, I have something for you. Can you close your eyes for me?”
“Not again, Dev,” Scott whined, but did as instructed. “You already gave me—” He stopped abruptly when he felt Devon stroke his cheek before slipping something on his head. “What on earth?”
“Perfect,” Devon commented while Scott opened his eyes. He was seriously afraid to look. “I knew it'd suit you.”
Scott took the hat off with a snort. “I can't believe you bought me this.” He inspected the googly-eyed goldfish hat. It was cute, or it would've been on a five-year-old, not a thirty-four-year-old geek with anxiety issues. “You don't expect me to wear this, do you?”
Devon shrugged. “Naw, just a gag gift. Maybe you can display it on your desk at work or something.”
“At work?” Scott repeated incredulously. He supposed it was a possibility. Others in his office had personal knickknacks and photos on their desks, but Scott only had a daily Sudoku calendar that he studiously worked on first thing every morning. It was possible that his coworkers would throw a party if Scott showed any signs of being anything but strictly professional. “Do you have your phone?
With a nod, Devon dug it out of his pocket. He tried to hand it to Scott, but Scott held up his hand and stepped back a few feet, tugging the fish onto his head again. “You want me to take a picture of you?”
Scott shrugged. “It’s the only way I can see how it looks without braving the washroom with all the screaming, fish-hatted little boys.” Devon took a quick photo then held the phone out to Scott again. It was strange to see himself acting in such a childish manner and seeing the genuine happiness displayed on his face was a little disarming. Nonetheless, it felt freeing and a touch exhilarating to do this with Devon, for Devon, so Scott left the hat on. “Ready?” he asked enthusiastically. “The otters do have a schedule, you know?”
Devon clapped his hands. “Well, all right! And Maisie's mom said there's a seal show in half an hour. Sounds cool.”
“Maisie's mom who wants to climb you like a tree?” Scott covered his mouth, heat searing his neck as he hid behind the brim of his cap. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory way, not completely. I’m sure she’s a very nice person but she looked at you like a piece of prime rib.”
A conflicted smile accompanied Devon’s shrug. “Maybe at first but she was pretty sweet about Shadow.” Devon licked his lips and eyed Scott for a dozen heartbeats. “Can I tell you something without sounding too arrogant?” Scott nodded, curious. “People do that a lot. It comes with the job or the persona I guess. Being hit on, I mean. Not that she hit on me, but it does happen. A lot. Most fans are respectful, but I know it can be weird for anyone I'm with. My mom used to say it was part of being a public figure. It definitely can be, um, awkward sometimes.”
It was unusual for Devon to look uncomfortable in his own skin, but in that moment, Scott saw the less confident, less cocky side to his boyfriend. Scott decided it was his turn to save the day. Without saying a word, he leaned up to kiss Devon, firm and quick. Their bills clicked against each, giving the illusion that the shark and goldfish were making out. Scott thought that would be a fabulous children's book—a true opposites attract story. They both snickered when they pulled away. Scott wasn’t a hat-wearer and the difficulty in kissing Devon with one on was a very good reason to not wear one, but it was worth it to see Devon's smile. “Guess I have to accept your popularity then. You know I have trust issues but I'm hoping I'm moving past that at a good rate. You're Mr. Popular and I'll learn to deal with that, right?”
“I hope so,” Devon told him. “I may chew the fat with people, but I'll always go home with you.” Another hasty kiss then Devon smirked. “Can I say how cute you are with that stellar fish on your head? Not that I expect you to actually wear it. Maybe in private?”
Scott digested that for a moment. “Do you have some kind of fish fetish, DuCaine? You have to admit that’s weird.”
“Anything that makes you look even cuter is my fetish,” Devon said like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Scott held back an epic eyeroll. Instead, he pursed his lips at Devon. “I don't know how to respond to that so how about I try the hat out today, or at least for as long as I can stand looking like a man reliving his childhood.”
“Hey!” Devon objected. “We look damn good in our childish hats. I say we do a selfie right now before you take yours off.”
“Ah, Dev. You already have one of me.”
“We don’t have any together though.”
Scott acquiesced, and the resulting photo was forever immortalized on Devon's phone. Naturally, it was cute of Devon, beaming like a beautiful fool, but Scott was embarrassingly gentle-eyed, the adoration in his gaze aimed at Devon and not the lens. It made him look like a love-struck idiot, but Devon seemed to approve.
Scott wore the hat all day. He left it on when they visited the otters and did not throw his phone in with them as he'd told himself to. The goldfish sat on his head during the seal show when Devon insisted they sit in the front row where they received a mild soaking. It stayed glued to his head when they gorged themselves on aquarium snacks that PD—pre-Devon—would've turned Scott's stomach too.
And Scott would surmise later that it was the most perfect of Valentine's Days despite his mother's drama. After a couple of hours of endless crowds, smelly displays, and stolen kisses, they tucked their silly hats into Devon's saddlebags and bid the aquarium goodbye.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The bike seat cushioned his backside perfectly as Scott plastered himself to Devon's strong back; happy as a clam and wonderfully exhausted from a busy day. Nonetheless, he didn't want it to end while he breathed in the scent of leather and Devon goodness. He would've been deliriously happy for the ride to go on and on, and as he closed his eyes, it seemed to do just that.
Devon had said they were going back to his house later, but Scott was still in the dark since he had no idea where that was. He almost suggested they go back to Scott’s place instead, only because the sun was still bright in the sky so there was lots of time for a cuddling session on the porch. He'd missed Devon on his porch and couldn't wait to have him all to himself again. And it was entirely possible, that Scott was nervous about the unknown aspects of walking into Devon’s space, invading his otherwise private territory.
He'd been so caught up in clinging to Devon that he had no clue where they were, had barely snuck a peek at his surroundings. However, as they continued their journey, certain landmarks made him suspect they were in West Vancouver. The next time they stopped, Devon patted Scott's hands where they were wrapped tightly—white-knuckling—around Devon’s waist. “Hang on,” he shouted above the noise of the bike. “Almost there.”
Scott nodded but only accomplished whacking his helmet against Devon's. “Ouch. Sorry.”
“Promise I'll kiss it better.” Devon leaned to the right and Scott planted his foot harder against the ground.
“Where are we?” he asked, unhappily loosening his hold on Devon's belly and trying not to tip himself off the bike.
Devon didn't answer. Instead, he reached to tap at a keypad before a big gate swung slowly open. He gunned the bike, surprising Scott and making him grip tighter to Devon's fragrant leather. There was a lot of swerving and uphill climbing that made Scott dizzy when he tried to keep his eyes open, so he shut them again. It wasn't long though.
“Home sweet home,” Devon said, reaching back to squeeze Scott's thigh. “Jump off, sweetheart. I'll park in the garage later. Looks like the rain is letting up.”
With more than a little confusion, Scott dismounted and steadied himself on shaky legs. Surprisingly, he wasn't anxious with this new situation. At least until he looked up.
We're definitely not in Kansas—Yaletown—anymore.
“You live—this, this is where you live?”
Devon's cheeks were ruddy when he pulled off his helmet,
the little manbun of tangles at the back of his neck dishevelled with long dark strands falling in waves around his face. He squinted at Scott, his neck showing signs of the extra blush creeping into his face. “Kind of ostentatious, huh? I've only been in it for a couple of years. I had a place in Whistler but when my mom got sick I wanted to be closer. She sold her house and I bought this because she likes…liked being by the water, plus the master bedroom has a sitting room and huge bathroom so she had all the privacy she wanted. There's a loft over the garage that I use for my bedroom.”
“You continue to surprise me Devon DuCaine,” Scott whispered when he stepped into Devon's personal space.
“Hopefully in a good way,” Devon commented smugly, leaning in to steal a kiss that Scott was happy to provide. “Planning on coming inside or you gonna stand here with your mouth open?”
Scott dumped his helmet into Devon's hands and then stepped back to survey the mansion; it could hardly be called anything else. “Patience, Devastation,” Scott replied cheekily. He ignored Devon's glare to continue his scrutinizing of his abode.
It was like something out of a movie, especially framed by the majestic cedars which were in direct contrast with the modern feel of the stone house. Scott thought it was built in a ranch-style, all one level like a sprawling bungalow, so unlike the three-story monstrosity in Cordova Bay that his mother lived in. He needed to strike her presence from his head or risk destroying his mood again.
“It's…um, wow.”
“Wish I could take the credit,” Devon told him. “It's a little more modern than I would've chosen but my mom fell in love with the features and location.” He shrugged, eyes crinkling at the corners, and cheeks pinking up. “I made it my mission to give her anything she wanted.”
Hot tears prickled behind Scott's eyes. He wasn't the emotional type and maybe even prided himself on that, but when Devon talked about his mom, it was hard to stay stoic. And he found himself letting go of that insecure feeling of being ridiculed when he showed emotion. Thank you, Mother. He let the moment sit for a while but reached for Devon's hand until he felt ready to reply.
“I don't think I've met anyone who loved his mom or even family as much as you do. You asked if you surprised me in a good way and the answer is definitely yes.” He inhaled through his nose, squeezing Devon's calloused fingers between his own.
Devon wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulders. He leaned their heads together. “My mom was a romantic. She spent a little time every day in the garden or looking out at the water. She told me I'd find someone special one day and this was the perfect place to start a life with them.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“She was.”
Devon sighed. The sound was filled with sadness, so Scott pressed closer, black leather mixing with brown, chins tucked into necks. He could feel Devon's sadness like it was his own. “ I'm sorry, Dev.”
“Thanks. I still miss her every day but it's getting easier.”
The admission swirled painfully around Scott's head, a mixture of obtuse jealousy, and guilt about the selfishness he was feeling. But he couldn't control an emotion he'd suffered through his whole life. The way Devon spoke about his mom made Scott remember all the times he'd hoped for a mother exactly like her. But the past was the past and there was no going back.
“You okay?”
Scott forced a half-smile. The last thing he wanted was to ruin such a great day. “Of course. I can't wait to see the inside.” He tapped his bottom lip. “Um, where are we exactly? I know it's West Van but…”
“Near Gulf Bay Beach. Lighthouse Park is right over the hill,” Devon said, returning the pressure on his fingers. “Mom was in Yaletown not far from you before, but the two years she spent here seemed to make her happy.”
Scott appreciated the stunning rock outcroppings and view of the mountains and ocean. “I can totally understand that. With her being uh…do you plan on staying?”
“Oh yeah,” Devon readily answered with commitment. “I have to see if her prediction comes true and I've grown to love the place. My mom is still kinda here too. You know what I mean?”
“I do.” Scott waited Devon out until his eyes focused back on the present. “Shall we go in now? I'm done ogling for the time being.”
“I dunno. You're pretty cute when you ogle.”
Scott let go of Devon's hand and pinched him through the leather. “You're such a jerk.”
Devon feigned a pout. “Ah man. Is the honeymoon over already?” He attached both helmets to his bike, collected his saddlebags and motioned to the stairs “How about you let me make it up to you?”
“Could take some work,” Scott replied. He didn't hesitate to take Devon's outstretched hand and accepted a quick peck on the lips. “Already using your charm on me?”
“Whatever it takes, sweetheart.” When Scott headed for the concrete stairs, Devon pulled him in a different direction. “Let's go in through the courtyard. It's my favorite part of the property.”
So they did just that, after Devon tapped in yet another security code at another big gate. Scott's jaw unhinged when he got his first glimpse of what was behind the rock walls. The mountains stood majestic and still snow-topped above a beautiful ocean view. He gaped for a little too long before Devon tugged him further into the little garden area.
“Is this a reflecting pond?” he asked, moving to study the calm water. “I love it.”
“Mom did too. I used to set up a lounge chair so she could see her flowers and the pond, and the view, of course. She grew up in Caccamo by the sea and this place gave her very happy feels.”
“Is that in Sicily?”
Devon nodded. “On the Tyrrhenian in Palermo.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“You ever been to Europe?” Devon questioned, tucking hair behind his ears.
“I haven't had the pleasure. Maybe one day,” Scott said, hopefully. Devon was giving him the heart eyes again. “What?”
“I'd say it's a definite maybe. I'd love to take you—” He stopped abruptly. “That's moving way too fast, right? You might have noticed I have no filter on my mouth or my feelings.”
“There may have been some indication of that, yes.”
Devon sucked in a big breath, his heaving chest visible even through the tight leather. He blew out a big sigh and said, “Mom always told me I wore my heart on my sleeve. Okay, moving on. Mi casa es su casa so how about we get out of this dampness?”
Scott followed him past the shimmering pond, his heart beating a steady rhythm of happiness in his ears. The accompanying garden was chockfull of color and surrounded by big leafy trees and a natural rock wall. He could understand how Devon's mom would find this spot peaceful and calming. “It is a little wet out here,” he agreed with Devon.
They continued around the courtyard, up a few stairs to the most gorgeous black-bottomed pool. “Wow.”
Devon stopped to consider the water. “Do you swim?” he asked, and Scott nodded hesitantly. “It's not really big enough for laps,” Devon continued. “I think it's called a plunge-pool so you dip in then get out. Not your usual pool temperature either. Damn cold if you ask me. That's why having the hot tub so close is freaking awesome.”
“Sounds heavenly. I guess you have a whole ocean to swim in if you want.”
“You'd be surprised how often I don't go to the beach,” Devon said, chuckling. “I have an aversion to sand all up in my…parts, and I've got everything I need here.”
“You sure do.” Scott stood beside four thickly upholstered chairs arranged in a circle around a stone fire-pit. “This is beautiful, Dev. The sunsets must be stunning.”
“Oh yeah. This place gives you a whole new perspective on the beauty of the world.” Devon's gaze was far-off but gentle. Scott hoped the memory he was lost in was a happy one. “If these clouds clear a little we can watch one tonight.”
“Can't wait.” Scott dragged a finger across the back of one of the chairs while he turned in a
semi-circle. “Is that a bed outside? I’m guessing that would be convenient if you, you know, wanted to have sex under the stars,” he quipped, uncomfortably. He pointed to a private alcove tucked into a corner of the house.
“That sounds like a good idea actually, especially since it has not been christened that way.” He arched a teasing brow at Scott. “Think it's called a daybed. The roof above it is retractable so you can be outside no matter the weather.” Devon paused to smirk. “I sound like a damn real estate agent, don't I?”
But Scott found himself even more charmed by this odd behavior. “I like it. Getting a private tour from a hot rockstar.”
“Not a star today. Just Devon DuCaine.”
“I know. You're not Devastation today but you both live here.” He frowned when Devon's partial smugness grew to full smug. “What did I say now?”
“Nothing.” Devon cleared his throat, offering his arm to Scott like he was some old-fashioned lady in waiting. “So, Mr. Weston,” he said, his voice low and formal. “Would you like to see the inside now? I can assure it's spectacular.”
Scott waggled his head at Devon's antics but wrapped his fingers around his man’s forearm all formal-like. “Lead on.”
Devon led him up the steps of the terrace and onto yet another terrace, this one seeming to wrap around the whole house. An outdoor eating area was to the left of the steps, complete with a ginormous barbecue and some sort of stone oven. Scott was starting to feel like they'd entered a whole different world than the one he lived in, and he supposed that wasn’t far from the truth. He'd experienced luxury and wealth as a kid living at home, but he'd left that world behind and hadn't looked back. Until now. Plus, his memories of home were never warm and fuzzy, yet that's exactly how he felt after only a little time at Devon's. Of course, he might’ve been a little biased on that point.