He lifted his head and placed a hand on the side of her face. So beautiful with her cheeks flushed and that slightly out of focus look that meant she’d gotten lost in that kiss. “You mean so much to me. I promise I’ll get better at this communication stuff.”
“Me, too. And you’re right about letting go and taking chances.” She leaned her head into his hand.
“It makes life more exciting.” His fingers gently massaged her back. “Try this. Think of something that scares the hell out of you, but you really want to do it.”
A blush turned her already pink face darker, and her gaze fell to her feet.
“What? Did you think of something?”
“Yeah.” Her voice cracked on the word.
He tipped her chin up with his finger and looked her in the eyes. “Can you tell me what it is, and I’ll help you do it.”
She took a shaky breath.
“Come on, you can do this. Trust me.”
“Okay.” She stood on her tiptoes, dragged his head down, and whispered in his ear, “I want to spend the whole weekend with you.”
Chapter 15
Devon tapped his fingers on the armrest of the leather recliner in his theater room. His first meeting with Anne had gone well. She’d been clearly touched by his interactions with the brats in the pediatric ward, and she’d agreed to meet with him at Toni’s. Good thing. He’d been eating their garbage food and sucking up to them for over a month preparing to make an impression on her. Now he’d have the chance.
He flipped on his new hundred-and-ten-inch television, and the sound of sirens filled the room as reporters stood in front of a burning apartment building. The cameras panned to show firefighters dousing the place with water from the truck hoses as they tried to contain the fire. The female reporter walked over to a couple holding a small child and started asking questions. Devon tuned her out and focused on the flames behind them. He could almost smell the black smoke. Took him right back to the night he’d torched his home.
His family got what they deserved, to die together. If only his mother could see him now. She would regret devoting all of her time and attention to his loser older brother. So what if Owen was an all-star athlete? The trophies, the awards, the constant doting on his every wish still made Devon sick to his stomach. Didn’t matter that he was the one with the brains. His parents only cared about sports.
Nothing was worse than the sick smell of whisky always on his father’s breath. On good nights, it was only verbal abuse from him. “Why can’t you be more like your brother? No boy spends so much time reading. Must be something wrong with you.”
At least they paid for it in the end.
Devon had been twelve years old at the time. After he’d snuck out of his friend’s house, where he was supposed to be spending the night, he’d slipped back into his own home. Passed out drunk, like always, his parents didn’t waken. His pulse raced as he doused the hall carpet with gasoline and tossed a lit match on top.
He left the house and crouched behind bushes at the edge of their property. A rush of adrenaline surged through his body when the dusty old curtains in his parents’ bedroom went up in flames.
His gaze darted to his brother’s room. Owen, the super athlete, frantically yanked on the window as flames blazed behind him. Wouldn’t do any good. Devin had secured it. His gut did a celebration dance, and he grinned.
Time stood still as he held his breath, his gaze riveted on the smoke and orange flares. Glorious in its spreading frenzy, the fire overtook the house. Ashes blew in his face, bringing with them the scent of burning wood, plastic, and chemicals. He’d killed before, but never a person or with fire. Who knew what a high it would be?
When sirens sounded, he dashed back to his friend’s home, where everyone was still sound asleep. He wanted to yell or scream to let out the sheer joy of the night. Instead, he curled up in his sleeping bag, having to settle for playing the scene over and over in his head while shivers of delight shook his body.
His parents and brother had all died in the fire, and no one had ever suspected Devon. Why would they? People in rural areas back then didn’t lock their doors, and he’d spent the night at a friend’s house, which the police verified. He knew enough to cry crocodile tears when he heard about the fire, and the media ate it up. Might be some of the best press he’d ever had.
He flipped off the television and grabbed the keys to his Porsche. A fast drive was in order. He backed the car out and stopped in the driveway, eyeing the five-car garage and his huge Tudor home. Fuck them all, look what he had now. Nobody kept him down. He gunned the engine, swerving around the circular drive, and raced through the gates. He’d shown them.
Wait until Anne saw his mansion. She’d be blown away like all the other women. Money, looks, prestige—he had it all. Anne would hold her hand out and beg for a ring.
Sweet payback to Paul for winning the wager with that bitch Lynn back in college. She’d made a fatal mistake choosing Paul over him. Now there wasn’t a woman alive who could resist Devon.
Chapter 16
Anne pulled into Toni’s lot, but her mind was on the upcoming weekend. She didn’t have all the answers for the future, and logic said she shouldn’t go away with Wyatt, but for once she wanted to color outside the lines. Live a little. Take a chance.
After the marinara mess, they’d ended up ordering a pizza, having some wine, and watching a movie. Wyatt had been right. The night wasn’t what they’d planned, but also not a total failure. And he’d actually taught her something. Maybe she was too quick to jump in sometimes and help people, especially her students. She’d keep that in mind and pay more attention in the future.
Anne spotted Devon’s BMW parked well away from the other cars in the restaurant lot. He probably didn’t want a ding, and she couldn’t blame him. The car gleamed under the overhead lights like it had been polished by hand. She grabbed her shoulder bag, got out, and headed toward the entrance.
Devon, standing by the door, waved to her as she approached.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Anne said.
“Nope. Just got here. I was about to go in when I saw you.” He opened the door for her, and like before, placed his hand on the small of her back as she entered.
The restaurant was busy with people waiting to pick up carryout orders. Patrons took boxes with aluminum-foiled containers and salads from atop a glass case filled with cannoli that made her mouth water.
“Hey, Devon, good to see you,” an older man, wearing an apron blotched with tomato sauce, called from behind the counter.
The hostess walked over. “Hi, I have your usual table ready.”
Anne followed the hostess as they snaked through the restaurant, squeezing past bussers, servers, and customers. The scent of garlic and tomatoes wafted through the place. Huge plates of steaming pasta and baskets loaded with crusty loaves of bread crowded the small tables.
The hostess led them to the far corner of the restaurant. Devon pulled out a chair for Anne. His gold cufflinks winked under the light of the jar candle on the table. He took the seat next to her instead of across. Strange, but what could she say?
Dressed like a James Bond double in a suit and tie, he drew his share of attention, but Anne couldn’t stop thinking about Wyatt’s cocky grin and the way his biceps bulged when he squeezed a football. Or the mischievous twinkle in his green eyes when he threw Goober’s tug-toy halfway across the park and then kissed Anne senseless until the dog came trotting back with it.
“I doubt you even need this.” The hostess gave Devon a menu and turned to Anne, handing her one. “The special tonight is lobster ravioli.”
“Thank you.” She’d better keep her mind on business and not Wyatt.
The man in the tomato-stained apron came to their table. He clapped Devon on his back. “I see you have a friend here tonight?”
“Yes, Toni. It’s a business meeting.” Devon introduced Anne.
Toni wiped his hand on his apro
n and shook hers.
“Nice to meet you.” He turned back to Devon. “I gotta tell you, our cappuccino sales are up almost a third since you got us that new machine.”
“See? I told you pump was better than steam. How’s Donna doing this week?”
“Each chemo is a little harder, but she’s hanging in there, and the docs still say she’s on track.”
“That’s encouraging. Tell her I was asking about her.”
“Will do. I gotta get back to the kitchen.” Toni pointed to Devon and faced Anne. “Maybe if this guy plays his cards right it will be more than business, eh?”
Anne swallowed as the tips of her ears burned. Talk about awkward.
When Toni walked away, Devon shook his head and rested his hand on Anne’s, giving it a small squeeze before quickly letting go. “I’m sorry. He can be pushy, but he’s a softy and means well.”
Now, more than ever, she wished Devon had sat across from her. He hadn’t done anything outrageously wrong, but the little intimacies were a bit much for someone she barely knew. A bead of sweat trickled down her back.
“Toni’s had it tough. His wife Donna has breast cancer and has been coming to the hospital for treatments. I ran into her a couple of times. Sounds like she’s going to be a survivor.” Devon’s mouth turned up, and he glanced at the kitchen where Toni had disappeared.
“That’s really good news.” Too many people had to deal with the life-changing diagnosis and side effects of the chemo. “What was he talking about with the cappuccino machine?”
Devon waved a hand and glanced at the specials sheet. “Eh, nothing. Their old one kept breaking. Toni apologized when it wasn’t working and said he was going to buy a new one as soon as he paid off the medical bills.”
Anne waited, but he didn’t say anymore. Curiosity got the best of her. “So, he mentioned that you bought him one?”
Devon glanced up from the menu. “It wasn’t a big deal. It actually was a tad self-serving because if there’s one thing I enjoy, it’s a properly made cappuccino, and I eat here a lot.”
Wow. His generosity went beyond caring. He might just be one of those really touchy-feely guys and she’d been reading too much into things.
“It was nothing.” He reached for his briefcase. “I don’t want to keep you too long, so should we get down to business?”
Relief eased the tension binding her shoulder blades together. A quick bite and she’d be out of there. She nodded and pulled a notebook out of her bag. “I think we’re off to a great start with the walk-a-thon. A lot of the teachers want to help.”
“That’s wonderful.” Devon smiled.
A waitress stopped at their table. She placed two wine glasses down and poured from a bottle of red. “Hey Devon, how’s it going?”
Oh, no. Anne didn’t want dinner with drinks. She glanced at Devon as he held up a hand. “Doing well, but you’re too quick, Sophia. We’re here for business tonight.”
Anne’s stomach unclenched. At least she and Devon were on the same page. Just business.
Sophia’s saucer-sized earrings swung as she shook her head. “You’re not gonna have a glass of wine on your birthday?”
His birthday? Anne’s gaze dashed to him.
He wagged a finger back and forth in front of Sophia. “I never should have let that slip when we were talking last week.”
Anne eyed the wine. “We could have done this another day, Devon. I didn’t know it was your birthday.” She gestured to his glass. “You don’t have to pass on my account.”
Devon frowned. “No, I would feel rude, unless you would join me in one?”
Crap. Now what? It was still early, and she was going to have something to eat. Maybe one glass. “Okay, since you were nice enough to meet with me on your birthday.”
Sophia asked, “Did you want the special or some time to decide?”
“I can vouch for the lobster ravioli being really good.” Devon tapped the menu.
The sooner they ordered, the sooner they’d be served. Anne nodded. “I’ll try it.”
“Make it two.” Devon handed the menus to Sophia, who took them and left.
Devon picked up his wine glass and held it out for a toast. “To the start of a successful fundraiser.”
“Yes, and…happy birthday.” Anne clicked her glass to his.
After taking a sip, Devon pulled out some paperwork from his briefcase. “Tell me how the staff meeting went and what ideas the other teachers came up with.”
With the focus back on business, Anne heaved a mental sigh of relief.
He took some notes as she rattled off the marketing ideas and thoughts the teachers had passed along.
“The one I like best is to have the kids draw some pictures that we can turn into posters to advertise for the walk-a-thon.” Anne drew a star next to the line in her notebook.
“I love it.” Devon leaned in and rested an arm near hers on the table. “Maybe make it into a contest or something?”
“That’s a great idea.” More sweat trailed down her back. Whether he meant to or not, he was invading her personal space. She took a sip of her wine, eased back, and picked up her pen. Keeping her head down, she avoided eye contact and wrote down his comment.
To be fair, he improved upon every idea she suggested. Creative and inventive, no wonder he was so successful.
Sophia brought their dinners, which smelled amazing, and Anne put away her notebook. She glanced at Devon. “I’ve only been here a few times. You mentioned you come here a lot?”
“Yeah, because it’s on my way home from the hospital and the food is so good.” A sad frown formed on his face. “They treat me like family.”
“That’s really nice. Does yours live far away?”
He shook his head and said in a low voice, “No. They all died in a fire when I was twelve.”
Her heart caved for him. No wonder he looked so dejected. “Oh my God. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
He met her gaze and half-smiled. “It was a long time ago. Just sometimes it’s still hard, you know, on days like this.”
“I’m really sorry.” She could only imagine what it would be like to not have her family around on the holidays and special occasions.
“I may not have blood relatives, but I’m thankful for my friends, and that’s what’s important.” He touched her arm and then waved a hand at her plate. “Eat while it’s hot. I hope you like it.”
Anne took a bite, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his loss. She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, Devon was smiling at her, his eyes warm.
“Delicious, right?” He ate a piece of ravioli.
She sipped her wine and Devon pointed to her glass. “Please don’t feel obligated to finish that.”
Thank goodness he understood. She seldom drank on weekdays, and certainly not with men she hardly knew. What would Wyatt think of this cozy dinner-for-two with wine? She let out a slow breath.
“Is something wrong?” Devon asked.
“No.” She’d keep the conversation light. “Does your art business require a lot of travel?”
He tilted his head. “Yes and no. I’ve been all around the world but not necessarily for the art. If I find a piece I really want, I’ll make a trip overseas or wherever it might be, but most of the traveling I do is for fun.”
He clearly had the money based on his car and clothing. “I’m sure you’ve been to a lot of exciting places.”
“I have.” He shrugged and looked up from his plate. “The truth is, I’d enjoy it more if I had someone special with me.”
Anne’s throat tightened. The way he was staring at her…was he hitting on her?
Sophia and three other servers came to the table, carrying a big piece of chocolate cake with a lit candle on the top. They started singing “Happy Birthday.”
Devon opened his mouth as if to protest, but then shut it and smiled.
“Sophia, you really shouldn’t have,” Devon said as the servers walked
away.
“Toni insisted. I’ll be right back with a couple cappuccinos.”
“Hold on.” Devon turned to Anne. “Would you like to get those in to-go cups so I don’t keep you out too long?”
“Yes, please. I still have papers to grade tonight.” Phew. She had to be wrong about him hitting on her. He was being considerate of her time, and none of this was his fault.
Devon glanced at the cake, then waved to Toni across the room. Blowing out his cheeks, Devon picked up a fork and paused.
“I’m in a bind here. I can’t not eat this cake now after all that, but I’m full. Any chance you can help me with it?”
Her gaze darted back to Toni, who was still watching them.
“Sure.” She was stuffed, too, but the cake did look good. Not wanting anyone’s feelings hurt, she took a small bite.
Devon took a forkful of cake off the same side. He slid it into his mouth and gave the thumbs up to Toni, who finally walked back into the kitchen. “Thanks, I owe you.”
Why had he taken a bite from the same spot she had when the other side of the cake was untouched? Seemed like an intimate thing to do. Then again, she probably was reading too much into everything since the night had sort of imploded.
Sophia brought over the cappuccinos and the check. “Let me know if you need anything else. Happy Birthday.”
They both took another sizeable bite of cake, then Devon put his fork down and picked up the check.
“These guys are too much. This says, “Happy Birthday,” with no charge.”
“That’s awfully sweet of them.” But it posed a problem for her. She couldn’t pay half of nothing. Reaching for her shoulder bag, she said, “I’ll leave the tip.”
Devon tossed some bills down on the table and stood up. “No, but thanks.”
Another generous act. She couldn’t help but notice he’d left enough money to pay for the entire meal.
When they got outside, Devon turned to her. “I had no idea they were doing all this tonight. I’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable.”
Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3) Page 11