by Knupp, Amy
In a frustrated rage he kicked the big beige ottoman across the room. Swearing like a street kid, he strode to the kitchen and grabbed another beer from the fridge. He chugged down a good half of it and tried to can the ugliness he felt.
He set the bottle down and, leaning over the sink, splashed ice-cold water on his face. After drying off with a paper towel, he returned to the living room and sank into the overstuffed chair.
He heard the back door open and close and stifled a groan. He wished everyone had left already so he didn’t have to act as if nothing was wrong.
Carey stepped into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and spotted Devin. She took a few steps into the room.
His eyes were bluer than usual, matching the shirt he wore. His hair was mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. In the low light, his scowl looked dangerous…
“What are you doing in here? Where’s Jerod?”
“Gone.”
“Why?”
“I made him leave.” His voice was flat.
She noticed the upturned ottoman apprehensively. “Were there…problems?”
“Hell, yes. That’s why I made him leave.”
“How’d this get turned upside down?” she asked as she bent to right the footstool. Pulling it to where he sat, she perched on it just in front of his legs, facing him.
Devin sank his head back into the massive cushion and looked at her through half-closed eyes. Carey could tell by his agitated state that Jerod had really gotten to him. She was dying to know what had elicited such a strong reaction.
She rested her hands on his knees. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
He laughed, but it rang hollow. “No. I really don’t like him. Can’t stand the son of a bitch.” He said it with such vehemence, Carey was taken aback.
She tilted her head slightly. “I knew you didn’t like him, but you’ve never acted like he was that big a deal.”
Devin didn’t say anything, just slumped there with his eyes closed.
“What’s the story, Devin?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
She considered beating him on the chest until he talked but opted for a more peaceful method—for now. “What started the whole problem between you two? I’m missing something.”
He pulled back in the chair to sit up straighter, away from her. Then he ran his hands over his face. “I really don’t like talking about it.”
“I want to know. Come on, Dev. Why do you hate him?”
He exhaled, obviously frustrated she wouldn’t let it go. But she wasn’t about to ignore it. His reaction to Jerod tonight was far worse than any mutterings of dislike she’d heard from him before.
“It’ll sound stupid,” he said quietly.
She shrugged. “When it comes to Jerod, I think I’ve got you beat on ‘stupid.’”
He hesitated, then finally opened up. “Ever since we were little kids, he’s tried to force his way into my family. His mom deserted his family. His dad worked two jobs to support the five kids. They rented an old, deteriorating house about a mile and a half from ours, but in a very different neighborhood.”
“Crummy part of town?”
He nodded.
Carey knew how nice the house Devin had grown up in was—she’d been there enough. There was no question the Colyers had been well off. “How crummy?”
“The city demolished the entire neighborhood several years back because there was nothing worth saving. A strip mall sits in its place.”
Carey couldn’t hide her surprise. She’d never met any of Jerod’s immediate family, either in high school or in the past few months as Jerod’s girlfriend. She’d never had a hint he’d grown up destitute. As the owner of a local television station, there wasn’t an ounce of poor left in him.
“He used to walk over to our house every day and hang out from the time he was maybe seven. I would have been three or four years old.”
He looked so troubled she wanted to touch him again but didn’t dare after he’d jerked his legs away.
“He was only interested in my parents. Barely gave me a second glance.”
She parked her elbow on her leg and supported her chin with her hand. “I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t either for a long time. All I knew was that he got a hell of a lot more attention from them than I did. They loved him. He pestered them with questions about the TV station from the beginning. Begged them to take him on tours, let him play on the news set.”
“Did they?”
“Of course. They were ecstatic to have a boy in the house who spoke their language.”
“While you were hiding in your room taking apart electronics.” She couldn’t count the times she’d found him with a computer case or a radio or something else opened up as if to perform surgery.
He nodded grimly. “I was the guy who wasted his life on computer games. They didn’t know me, never even tried to know me. I wasn’t Mr. Outgoing so they wrote me off early. Not so with Jerod. By the time I met you, he was practically a full-time employee at the station.” He stood and paced.
“I never knew. I met him at your house once or twice, but then I hardly ever saw him. I had no idea he was with your parents more than you were.”
“Jerod’s the son they always wanted, and he played it for all he was worth.”
“What happened to his family?”
“They’re still around. His dad lives here in town on the east side. Three of his four sisters are married, scattered around the country. I think the other one took off, too, but I don’t remember where. Family’s never been a big thing for any of us.”
Carey had known that about Devin. It was a big part of what had drawn them together as friends in the first place.
She could only imagine how Devin had felt to have his cousin step in and build a lasting relationship with the parents who’d shunned him. Carey’s own mother had merely been too busy and too focused on finding the second love of her life. There hadn’t been anyone who had “stolen” her mom from her.
His hatred of Jerod was starting to make sense now. “How come you’ve never told me any of this before? Especially when I was seeing him?”
“Would it have made any difference?”
“I don’t know. It might have. I always just figured your dislike of him was a guy thing. He’s well off, well known around town, good looking, a little conceited…”
Devin shook his head. “It’s been ingrained since I was a kid. My parents continually chose him over me.” He inhaled sharply, then released the breath. “There. I told you. I’ve basically been jealous of him since before I knew what jealous meant. What’s that say about me?”
Carey stood and forced eye contact. “It says you were a normal kid who needed his parents.”
Arms crossed, he stared her down, defiance etched into his features. “It goes beyond that. I no longer need them, but I still can’t stand him. To this day, he still pushes my buttons.”
She was confused. She hadn’t been aware that Devin and Jerod had any regular contact before tonight. “How does he do that?”
He continued to stare at her with such intensity she shivered. “You, Carey.”
“Me?” She tilted her head. “I’m a button?” That made no sense whatsoever, but her heart pounded anyway.
The back door opened and Devin snapped to attention. He reached the kitchen just as Gramps hollered for him. Carey followed, completely befuddled.
“Time for this old boy to get home and hit the sack, son,” Gramps said.
Devin glanced at his watch and nodded. “Nine-fifteen. Pretty late for an eighty-five-year-old.”
“Damn straight. What have you two been doing holed up in here?”
“Sorry about that. Carey and I had something to discuss.”
“No need to apologize. I’ve been catching up with the boys.” His eyes twinkled.
“How are they doing out there?” Devin asked, motioning toward the
door.
“See for yourself. I need to switch tanks and see if Gus is ready to go.” He stopped short, then, clearly confused. “Where’s Jerod?”
“He had to leave. Said to tell you good-night.”
“Was he okay?”
“Is Jerod ever okay?”
Devin wandered outside to give the old guys some guff before they took off. They all stood in a bunch between the door and the table, jawing with Monica and Kyle. Carey came out right after him and stacked plates and trash, taking them into the house.
“You still okay to take the birthday boy home?” Devin asked Gus.
“Hell, yeah.”
“How many of those girl drinks did you down?”
Gus raised his head and looked him over through the lower part of his bifocals. “You show me a girl who can take vodka straight and I’ll show you the girl of my dreams, boy.”
Devin motioned to Monica and Carey, who’d just come back outside. “Take your choice, old man.” He grinned.
“I’ll take one of each then.” He winked at the women. “’Spose you think I’m too juiced up to get behind the wheel.”
“Just making sure.”
“I had one o’ them cocktails, sir. Hours ago.” He saluted.
Devin saluted back as Gus went inside.
“Monica, thanks for the help. Or should I say thanks for taking over?”
“You bet. They all loved it. Especially your grandpa.”
Kyle shook Devin’s hand. “She’s right. That’s one happy man tonight. You certainly did right by him.”
“I hope so.” He apparently hadn’t done well in the recent past. He had no idea how to fix it though. There were barely enough hours in the day as it was.
He’d take Gramps to dinner Wednesday as he’d promised, and he’d tell him exactly where he stood. He loved the old man, but his company currently required all of his time. As a former businessman, Gramps would understand if Devin could only make it once or twice a month.
AT 2:47 A.M., Carey rolled over for the umpteenth time, smacking her pillow down, as if her inability to sleep was the pillow’s fault. Then in exasperation, she sat up and let out a stream of obscenities directed at Devin. Unfortunately, he was at home in his own bed, probably sleeping peacefully, and couldn’t hear a word she said.
What the hell had he meant earlier tonight? Jerod pushed his buttons with her? She’d wanted to confront him and find out what that was all about before she left, but he’d shooed everyone out the door as soon as his grandpa had taken off with Gus.
The look on his face when he’d said it haunted her. His eyes had been intense; she’d never seen them like that before, full of so much emotion. Even now, remembering that look brought about a tingling awareness.
Maybe he was being the protective best friend who was ticked off that Jerod had screwed her over. Actually, she knew that was part of it, but she couldn’t help wondering if he meant something more. If he felt something more. He’d felt an attraction once, albeit briefly. His feelings apparently hadn’t been overpowering enough to fight off the wiles of Lisa Palmer. He’d walked away from Carey without hesitation. Since then he’d never shown a hint of anything more than friendship.
Carey lay back down and pulled all the blankets up to her chin. She was making too much out of an ambiguous comment. A mountain out of a molehill, her mother would say.
Closing her eyes, she pictured a procession of fuzzy sheep jumping over a fence and counted them. She made it to seventeen before losing interest and going back to Devin’s words.
So what if he did mean something more, something like jealousy? He’d admitted he’d always been jealous of Jerod, and then two minutes later had brought her name into the mix. Maybe Devin was trying to say he still had feelings that went beyond friendly.
Her eyes opened wide in the dark room as every inch of her body warmed. Was he still attracted to her? Why was her body reacting this way after all this time?
No. She had a hard time believing he felt anything deeper than friendship. They’d spent hours upon hours together over the past fifteen years. They knew each other well—too well.
She was letting her imagination run away with her. Devin didn’t want anything other than her friendship. If he did, he’d had aeons to express it.
She’d forced herself to get over him, to forget how his kisses had scared the life out of her, a long time ago.
Sure, there were moments when he opened a door for her or innocently touched her the way a friend might, and she had a flash of feeling for him. But then the moment of weakness passed.
Devin didn’t really do serious when it came to women. He never had. He dated plenty, but Carey couldn’t name a single one who’d lasted more than a few weeks, even before his parents died and he’d become so focused and overscheduled. Now he was too into attaining his goals to give much thought to a woman.
Especially a crazy, screwed-up woman like Carey who was pregnant with his cousin’s baby.
She hopped out of bed and stormed to the living room where she’d tried to distract herself after the party. She had a future to figure out. There was a load of things to plan, from income to day care. With concerns like that, who had time to daydream about a man who might or might not have feelings for her he didn’t want to discuss?
She stretched out on the floor and vowed to put him out of her mind for good. Or at least for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LATE MONDAY afternoon, Carey trotted down the stairs to Devin’s basement office, relieved he’d turned the air conditioner on. She pulled her T-shirt away from her chest in a fanning motion. The temperature outside had hit the mid-eighties, which was rare for Iowa in early May. “Hello?” she called out.
“Hey!” Monica, who had recently started working as Devin’s assistant, spun her chair around to face Carey. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a dinner companion. Got plans?”
Monica smiled regretfully.
“What am I saying…the husband, of course,” Carey said. “I hope Devin’s an easier catch than you. I need to talk to him anyway.”
“I heard my name,” Devin said from his corner office, the only one that had actual walls. The rest of the room was divided by low partitions into four workstations. Monica occupied the one right outside Devin’s, and the others were for future expansion, Devin had explained. The wall that separated his office from the others was mostly solid except for a large floor-to-ceiling window that allowed him to see the entire basement from his chair.
“Have fun with him,” Monica said, raising her eyebrows. “He’s been moody all afternoon.”
“Men are not moody.” Devin came out of his hide-away and stretched. “Men are grumps. Women are moody.”
“Pig.” Monica smiled. “I’m ready to take off. Anything else I need to finish first?”
“Go on. See you in the morning.”
“See you. Let me know when you go to Dr. Estes, Carey.”
Monica’s desk was spotless, with the papers stacked neatly in labeled metal trays. She shut her computer down and grabbed her oversized purse, which Carey joked could double as a beach bag for a family of four, then waved as she headed out the door.
“So,” Devin said, looking Carey over. “Thought you’d be by earlier today to talk about the project.”
“We didn’t set a time, did we?”
“No. I just assumed you’d show up during business hours.”
“Business hours? I barely know what business hours are. If you want me here at a certain time, say so.” She returned his scrutiny, making a point of inspecting him from head to toe. “What’s the occasion? You’re all spiffed up.” She struggled to ignore the way looking at him jump-started her pulse. It was that damn comment Friday…it’d put her imagination into overdrive.
He wore khakis that fit…nicely, and a black polo shirt. He looked much calmer than he had when she’d left his house Friday night.
“I’m working. I
dress nicely sometimes.”
She glanced down at her own sloppy wardrobe of capri jeans and a plain mint-green T-shirt. “I might not have dressed nicely, but at least I shaved,” she said, glancing at his stubble.
“Clean-shaven is overrated,” he grumbled. He strode back into his office and Carey followed.
“Does dinner come with this interview?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I don’t need to interview you. I know all your quirks already. You’re a great photographer in spite of them.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“I’ll buy dinner, but there’s a catch.”
Carey groaned. “What, master?”
“We eat it on the boat. Gramps says I work too much.”
“He’s right.”
Devin had a sleek, overpriced fishing boat he’d spent most of last summer on. He’d taken Carey on a few zips around the lake as well. Even though it was a cramped fishing boat, complete with geeky removable raised seats at each end, the thing could move.
“I can handle a boat ride.”
“Actually, I was going to drop a line for a bit.” He stacked papers in three piles on his desk as he spoke. “I’ll finish this stuff up when I get home.”
Carey collapsed into Devin’s chair and propped a foot up on the desk. She made a face. “You know I don’t fish.”
He grabbed her legs at the calves and set her feet on the floor. “Come on, it’ll be relaxing. We’ll talk about the project, eat some subs, get some fresh air.”
“All of that’s fine. It’s the fish and worms I could do without.”
“Free dinner. Besides, you haven’t ridden in my new Excursion yet. Let’s go.”
She rolled her eyes, wondering what the big deal was about riding in a new vehicle, but he didn’t see it because he’d already shot out the door. Carey jumped up to follow him. Dinner had her hooked. Besides, maybe they could continue their conversation from last Friday. If not, she could at least hit Devin up for help with the business idea she’d gotten in the middle of the sleepless night.