Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1)

Home > Other > Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1) > Page 37
Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1) Page 37

by K-lee Klein


  “Nice to see you,” Scott said methodically. “This is Devon. Devon, Kristy Arnett. We went to school together.”

  The woman who Scott had not seen since he was a shy, gangly teenager rose from her chair, arm outstretched. “Nice to meet you, Devon.” Devon shot her a wide grin and a little wave but didn’t interrupt. “Wow, it’s been a long time, Scott. Your mom didn’t mention you were bringing someone.”

  Mother flicked her wrist. “Oh, you remember how he is, Kristy? I never know if what he says is accurate or not.”

  “Thank you, Mother. That’s very sweet,” Scott offered, sarcastically. “Dev, why don’t you have a seat beside Kristy? I can smell that Fran hasn’t lost her touch. Roast beef, right?”

  “Awesome. I’m starving.” Devon rubbed his hands together and knocked his hip to Scott’s before sliding into his chair. “Your hair color is beautiful,” he complimented, flashing a grin at Kristy.

  Scott knew what it was like to be the target of that smile and if Kristy’s flushed cheeks were any indication, she’d already been wooed by Devon DuCaine. “So, Kristy,” he started, unfurling his cloth napkin and flattening it over his lap. “What have you been up to for the last twenty years?”

  “Seventeen,” Scott’s mother answered for her guest. “And Kristy is a doctor now.” She gloated smugly, tapping Kristy’s wrist. “Isn’t that marvelous, Scott?”

  “Of course, she is,” Devon mumbled under his breath.

  Scott shot him a glare. “It is. Congratulations. Are you a general practitioner or have you specialized in something?” He nodded when Fran appeared with a bowl of mashed potatoes and the finest looking roast he’d ever seen. His mother had definitely gone all out.

  “Pediatrics, actually,” Kristy replied, sipping from her glass of red wine.

  “Kristy loves children, Scott.” Scott’s mother was in fine form and was it really necessary to say his name after every damn sentence? “Isn’t that a coincidence?”

  He snuck a peek at Devon who was entirely too busy dishing vegetables on his plate. Scott squinted at his mother and asked, “And what coincidence would that be? I don’t believe accountants and doctors have much in common.”

  His mother tutted like Scott had asked the most irrelevant question in the world. “The coincidence is how much you like children, Scott,” she began. “It’s obvious that Kristy does. And I believe there must be much more in common between an accountant and a doctor than a bike mechanic.”

  Devon lifted his head then, glancing Scott’s way before forcing a smile. “Don’t you have a few mechanics on your client list, Scott?”

  For Christ’s sake now Devon was incessantly using Scott’s name. Was there a memo Scott hadn’t received? “And musicians as luck would have it.” He hadn’t told his mother much about Devon, not even his name, but he’d obviously mentioned his love of motorcycles even though he didn’t remember doing so. “How’s your wine, Devon?”

  “Perhaps, Mr. DuCaine would like a beer instead?” Barbara quirked a perfectly maintained brow at Scott. “Or have you switched your alcoholic preferences, as well?”

  Scott ignored the comment, concentrating on cutting his meat and counting to ten in his head. The silence was stifling and he considered putting some music on so there wasn’t so much quiet. It was Kristy who came to his rescue.

  “So you’re a mechanic, Devon?” She was taking the tiniest bites of her meal, reminiscent of the way Scott’s mother ate.

  “I have a shop, yes.” Devon didn’t skip a beat, simply went along with the assumption. “Mostly motorcycles but I’ve worked on a few cars in my life too.”

  “Devon is far too modest. Bike tinkering is mostly a hobby for him. He’s a musician,” Scott corrected bravely. He picked at his food, attempting to catch Devon’s eye with no success. “He’s performed all over the world.”

  “Wow,” Kristy replied. “I was in band during high school but never kept it up. I’ve thought about taking lessons again though.”

  “Cool. What did you play?” Devon asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin. Scott was the first to admit he’d never seen Devon so formal and controlled, but at the same time still being Devon.

  “Clarinet.” Kristy shrugged as if she was embarrassed.

  Devon grinned at her. “That’s a great instrument. My buddy’s girl played that when she was young too. I tried it once and all I got was the most god-awful squeak.”

  Kristy giggled and suddenly it was as if the whole room had taken a big breath and let it out. Scott was even able to relax after that, providing a little bit of his own banter while his mother sat primly in her chair with her lips pursed. He could tell she wasn’t happy with the way her dinner was panning out. Sucked to be her.

  Of course, as soon as he thought the coast was clear, his mother brought out her A-game. “So Kristy,” she began, dapping at her lips with her napkin. “Why is that a smart and pretty girl like yourself hasn’t married yet?”

  “Mother!”

  “No, it’s okay,” Kristy assured. “I was always so busy with my schooling then interning and all the other wonderfully time-consuming things involved with medical school that I never had the time for dating, let alone a relationship.”

  “Scott hasn’t had a lot of success in that department either.”

  Scott looked across the table Devon who was busy chasing greens peas around his plate. His smirk was very recognizable though. “I date, Mother, and I believe I even brought a date with me this weekend.”

  Kristy looked confused. “You did? Is she not feeling well?”

  “What?” Scott asked, more impatiently than intended.

  “Your date. I was wondering why she didn’t come down to dinner.”

  Devon’s grin was monumental when he lifted his head. “She did.” He raised his hand cheekily. “Present and accounted for.”

  “You mean…” Kristy’s thought trailed off and the blush returned to her face. “I had no idea.”

  Mother was completely silent, her face a palette of disenchantment.

  “Yes, well,” Scott started to say.

  “That’s not entirely correct,” Kristy continued without missing a beat. “I suspected when we were younger, especially when I sort of kept throwing myself at you.”

  “Throwing yourself at me?” Scott asked incredulously.

  “How come you never caught her, sweetheart?” Devon didn’t seem to realize he’d used an endearment. He was probably too amused at the turn the discussion had taken.

  Kristy eyed them both. “Oh, are you bisexual?”

  “No,” Scott replied too hastily. “I mean, no offense.”

  Kristy’s laugh was high pitched and her nose crinkled when she snorted. It was adorable. Scott generally reserved that particular opinion for Devon’s antics. “None taken.” She tucked her fork beside her plate, leaning into the table like she was telling secrets. “So how long have you two been together?”

  “About six months,” Scott answered.

  She looked genuinely pleased. “Congratulations. That’s a monumental achievement I haven’t reached yet.”

  Scott’s mother huffed. She folded her napkin and set it beside her plate. “I’m going to go check on dessert,” she offered without a glance at any of them.

  Once she’d disappeared through the swinging door to the kitchen, Kristy reached for Devon’s hand. “I have to apologize at how weird this just became. I had no idea Barbara would try to marry us off during dinner. To be honest, I’m more into women anyhow.”

  Devon’s cackles filled the room and Scott loved him for it. “And I’m guessing she doesn’t know that?” he commented, stretching a leg out to nudge Scott’s foot. “You did say this weekend would be entertaining, and you were right.”

  “Oh, you silly, silly man,” Scott returned. “We’ve barely gotten started on the entertainment.”

  When Scott’s mother retook her seat, the three were again on their best behavior. Luckily, she hadn’t witnessed Kristy’s exc
itement upon learning Devon was actually Devastation Caine. Who knew so many varied people were aware of his alter ego? Nor did she hear Devon offering to donate to a children’s charity Kristy had mentioned. Though, his mother might have found some sense of compassion for that fact.

  After dinner was served and more wine was drunk, Mother turned to Devon with a feigned look of sympathy. “You look tired, Mr. DuCaine.”

  “Devon, please.”

  Of course, she ignored the correction and it was apparent she was devising some diabolical plan. “Perhaps you’d like to retire early while Kristy and Scott catch up?”

  “I think not,” Scott snapped.

  Devon winked at him, unfazed. He hummed then drawled, “Well, I kind of promised Kristy I’d show her the band’s new video.” He concentrated his attention on Scott. “You bring your laptop, sweetheart?”

  Heat trickled from Scott’s neck to his cheeks. “Always. Never leave home without it. So if you’ll excuse us, Mother, I think we’ll retire to the media room for now. You’re welcome to join us of course.”

  “I should say not.” And with that Barbara Weston’s façade cracked down the middle. She rose from her chair. “I think an early night is in order. It was nice to see you again, Kristy. I’m sure the boys can show you out once you’re finished whatever it is you have planned.”

  She stomped from the room, or at least padded louder than her usual style, and laughter followed her out the door. Scott covered Kristy’s hand. “Thank you,” he said, heartfelt and sincere. “This could have gone horribly, horribly wrong. I appreciate your understanding.”

  “Understanding?” Kristy giggled. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Most entertainment I’ve had in months. Truth is, your mom cornered me at that boutique down the road and I didn’t know how to say no, but I’m glad I didn’t..”

  “Me too,” Devon piped up. “I mean, if you hadn’t said yes, who knows who she would have convinced to show up. Maybe even someone I had to fight for Scott’s affections.”

  “You’re such a jerk.”

  “Ha!” Devon squawked. “There’s the Scott Weston I know and love.” He leaned over to peck a kiss on Kristy’s cheek. “Now what do you say we head into the media room and have ourselves a little more fun.”

  After pushing his chair away from the table, Devon offered Kristy his hand. She took it but held up a finger. “Wait. One more thing?”

  “Everything okay?” Scott asked. “We didn’t overstep or—”

  “Of course not. I want your gorgeous hunk of man to autograph my boob before I go.”

  Scott gawked at her. “I’m sorry? What?”

  “Well not my actual boob, but maybe the cleavage? I have my first date in over a year this week and I know for a fact that having Devastation Caine’s signature on my person will give me a lot of Brownie points.”

  Scott was speechless but as the evening progressed he learned the value of misjudging people by how they looked. Kristy was a warm, intelligent, funny girl, and she and Devon got on like a house on fire. Scott was content to sit back, watch, and listen to their antics. He wasn’t even jealous that Devon did indeed sign her breast, because he’d made a new friend. They’d made a new, old friend to be more exact and Scott was very happy about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Devon woke to the sound of a creaking door. He blinked into the light streaming through the beige curtains, and it took him longer than usual to remember where he was and why he was sleeping alone. He’d gone along with the rules and slept in the guest room once Kristy had left. And boy had she been a treat. She reminded him of Beth, and when the realization hit, it pulled on his heartstrings. But in a good way.

  He’d been dreaming about Beth, little snippets of her and Shaun and the kids. It made him miss her and he swore he’d find time to phone Shaun to see how he was doing. The weekend marked the first time they’d be without Beth on her birthday so he knew his friend could use the distraction. Maybe he and Scott could drop by after their weekend.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” The bed dipped as Scott seated himself on the edge, smiling warmly down at Devon. “That’s some fabulous bedhead you’ve got going on.”

  “Why thank you. Such a lovely compliment at ass-crack-o’clock in the morning.” He stretched, peering at Scott from beneath his lashes. “You sure you should be in here? Don’t want Mother to catch you fraternizing with the gay guy.”

  Scott laughed then draped himself over Devon. “First of all, it isn’t ass-crack anything. Eight o’clock is a normal waking time. I can also assure you, my mother won’t know a thing. And isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black since you spent more time than necessary saying good night in my room?”

  “Because you wouldn’t let me escape,” Devon teased. “I barely got out of there with my clothes fully intact.”

  “You wish,” Scott teased, bending to press a chaste kiss on Devon’s mouth. “I thought we could go out for breakfast this morning. You know, switch up before the house erupts to the tune of Happy Birthday.”

  “Sounds good to me. How about a shower first?”

  “If you’re referring to anything but a solo effort on your part, then nice try but no. You’ll have to wait for that experience until we get back to the city.”

  “There’s always the Grey Goose Motel,” Devon suggested. Couldn’t blame a guy for trying.

  Scott made a face like he’d smelled something bad. “Absolutely not and you can’t expect me to believe that you’ve stayed in a fleabag place like that. Mr. Big Rockstar and all.”

  Devon snuggled back under his covers. “Didn’t always have money, you know? I think we even slept on the bus a few times.”

  “One of those big concert buses with the beds and bathrooms? I think I saw one on some document or other. Looked pretty swanky to me.”

  “We had one of those later on but I’m talking mini yellow school bus converted to a badly-painted, multi-colored tour bus.”

  Scott looked at Devon in disbelief but sighed. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. But I’m still not going to that motel with you.”

  “Spoil sport,” Devon grumbled before simultaneously tugging back the blanket, wrapping an arm around Scott’s neck and dragging him on top of him. He tucked them both in, locking his hands behind Scott’s back.

  “Dev!” Scott complained. He squirmed a little, but it was half-hearted at best. “I thought we were going for breakfast?” He snuffled and blew a raspberry against Devon’s collarbone, then swept Devon’s hair away from his mouth.

  “Just give me a few minutes,” Devon whined, closing his eyes and reveling in Scott’s warmth. He loosened his hold and his boyfriend didn’t pull away so he counted it as a win.

  Scott chuckled, shifting so he was straddling Devon’s thigh instead of squashing him into the mattress. “Fine. But that’s it.” He hummed when he settled in. “You’re so warm.”

  “It was Beth’s birthday yesterday,” Devon revealed, sadness flowing through him. She was still on his mind. “Would’ve been, I guess.

  “I’m sorry.” Scott pressed his lips to Devon’s cheek, lingering there. “You didn’t tell me. Maybe you should have stayed in the city with Shaun and the kids?”

  Devon sighed heavily, tucking his head more firmly against Scott’s. “Naw. I asked him and he told me to go. Thought we could pick up some goodies for the kids and stop there on our way home?”

  “Definitely.”

  * * * *

  “Scott? Where are you?”

  Scott startled awake, disoriented and reeling from being too warm. He realized where he was and tried to free himself from Devon’s octopus’ arms but landed on the floor in a tangle of blankets. Devon blinked confusedly at him over the edge of the bed.

  “What…what’s going on?” he stammered, yawning. “Why are you—”

  “Scott!” A loud knock on the guest room door followed. “Are you in there?”

  “Oh shit,” Devo
n whispered. “Busted.”

  “Not funny,” Scott wheezed. He crawled to his feet, tripping over the stupid blanket wound around his ankle. “Dammit.”

  It was obvious that Devon was trying not to laugh but when he widened his eyes to comical proportions, Scott smirked.

  “Think you can make a run for it?” Devon asked, swinging his legs over the bed and reaching for Scott.

  Scott slapped his hand away. “Stop it.” He smoothed his shirt over his belly and tugged at the crotch of his pants. Devon leered at him. “I said stop. Perv. I’m only adjusting myself, jerk. And not for the reason you think.”

  “I’d like to see you downstairs, Scott. Now, please,” Scott’s mother demanded through the door.

  “At least she said please.” Devon shrugged and Scott slapped him upside his messy head. “Ouch. Don’t take it out on me.”

  “Don’t take it—” Scott sputtered. “You’re completely to blame. Let me think.”

  Devon reached for his pants in a heap on the floor. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s still early,” he teased but Scott was unamused.

  “It’s ten o’clock. You held me hostage for two hours.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say it was under duress. How about that shower now?”

  Scott growled. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “And you love me.” Devon fluttered long lashes over sleepy eyes.

  “You know that won’t work all the time?” Scott reminded him. “And right now I’m not so sure.”

  “Noted. So what’s our game plan?” Devon stood, hopping into his jeans before looking curiously around the room. “Have you seen my shirt?”

  Scott did a quick glance but realization struck. “I think you left it in my room.”

  Devon feigned a gasp. “Oh, the scandal.”

  “You’re not helping.” Scott took a deep breath, released it slowly as Devon kissed his cheek. “Okay, you do what you have to, to get decent.”

 

‹ Prev