Is that what you’re calling her?
Price
Wait, are you there already? Why are you texting us?
Since when do you care about how I’m behaving?
Price:
Since you took the blame for the Great Goat Escape of Fall Festival 2010, bro.
Not by choice. I was an innocent child and you two ganged up on me. Mrs. Singer still gives me the evil eye whenever I see her.
Will
Time to let it go, Aaron.
I didn’t start it!
Price
Get out of your car, Muscles McGee.
I startled and looked around.
Are you stalking me?
Price
No. I’m just that good.
I sent them a middle finger emoji and got out with the smoothies. It would be a miracle if my brothers ever left me alone.
Devon opened the door as I walked up the flaking porch steps, a warm smile on her face. I nearly tripped at the way she looked, luminous in the morning light. Her blue eyes shone and her hair was held back in a way that showed off the graceful curve of her neck. She wore her near daily outfit of well-worn t-shirt and denim shorts, and I thanked the heavens for it.
“Good morning,” she said. “Where’s Daisy? But more importantly, what’s in your hands?”
I smiled. “Daisy’s at the station. And I brought smoothies. Since I can’t ply you with pastry yet.” I stepped closer to her, figuring she’d step back and let me inside. Instead, she leaned up and kissed my cheek.
She blushed prettily when she lowered down. “For the smoothie.”
Before she could step away, I cupped her jaw with my free hand and stroked her soft skin with my thumb. “Devon.” Her eyes darkened, giving me all the permission I needed. I leaned down and met her lips with mine. They yielded to me without hesitation, velvet and sweet. She brought her hands to my waist and tugged me closer. She tasted like mint and coffee, and I wanted more of her. So much more.
She whined and pulled away, pressing her lips together. “I hate this damn jaw,” she said, her voice low and breathy.
“Three and a half weeks left,” I growled.
“Don’t I know it.” She cleared her throat and stepped to the side to let me in. “Come in.” As she walked ahead of me, she called over her shoulder, “And bring those smoothies.”
Yes, ma’am.
I followed her to the living room and took a seat on the couch, a plush, cream sectional, complete with recliners on both ends. It was entirely out of place with the rest of the room, which was filled with delicate pieces that matched the lace curtains and gold-framed paintings. I had to give it to Gigi, though: this couch was outstanding. The naps I could take on it would be epic. Then my eyes landed on a cabinet across from the couch. “Let me guess,” I said, nodding at it. “Television?”
Devon sipped the smoothie and nodded. “Oh, yeah. Gigi didn’t care what matched and didn’t match. She liked what she liked, and this couch was her pride and joy. When I lived here, she’d curl up in it and watch ‘her stories’ every weekday.” Devon’s eyes took on a faraway look as she spoke. After a moment, she turned to me. “So what convinced you to hang out with me on your day off? You gonna let me put you to work?”
I nodded. “My body is yours.”
Her eyes widened and she blushed again at the double meaning, then she smiled. “Good to know. I don’t suppose you’re an electrician?”
I looked at her quizzically.
She sighed and pointed up. “The entire upstairs is shot. No electricity. Even Rick can’t fix it.”
“Did you check the breaker?”
She leveled me with a dark look. “Really?”
I held up my hands in defense. “Easy there, killer. It’s a question I would have asked anyone.” She huffed and rolled her eyes, but I refused to take the bait. “I know a guy, but he might be booked.” I pulled my phone out and texted his contact info to her.
Her phone pinged. “Thanks. Now I only have five million other things to do.”
“What’s this?” I leaned up to look closer at the leather-bound book on the coffee table.
Devon shot forward and pulled the book onto her lap. “Nothing.”
I squinted, recognizing it now. “Is it a wedding album?”
She stood abruptly, her eyes sliding away. “Yep. Just old family weddings. Boring stuff. You, um, ready to help?”
