Devon walked up in tight-fitting jeans and a short-sleeve dark green shirt. She gestured at the two of us. “This looks more dangerous than that kid with the plastic sword in the bounce house.”
Rick blanched. “That’s not really happening, is it?”
“It was, but not anymore,” Devon said and curtsied. “Auntie D took care of it.” Then she pointed at me. “Remind me never to have kids.”
This time, I raised both my eyebrows at Rick. Take that! I nodded at Devon and smiled. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
“Guess I’ll go see about this sword-wielding kid you mentioned.” Rick shuffled off.
Devon watched him go, then wrapped an arm around my waist and leaned into me. I pulled her close and inhaled her scent. “What is that, anyway?”
She tilted her face to mine, holding my gaze. “What’s what?”
I couldn’t help myself. I kissed her nose and said, “The vanilla smell.”
She laughed. “We’ve spent the past six weeks hanging out. How do you not know?”
“I’ve been far more interested in other things.” I growled and nuzzled her neck.
She giggled and hummed contentedly.
“Shampoo? Body wash?” I guessed.
“It’s an oil,” she said. “You know me: I travel light, and a body oil is easy to pack.”
I ignored the way my stomach stress-flopped at the mere suggestion of her leaving and went instead with the smile. “Well, I love it.”
“Thanks.” She squinted at someone across the yard.
“Have you thought more about…” I started, then I stopped.
“Have I what?”
I was an idiot. She’d rebounded quickly after Chief’s visit, and we’d spent the past week feasting on each other at every available turn. Clearly, it had mushed my brain. “Nothing.” I hoped she’d drop it.
“Aaron,” she cajoled.
I sighed. I deserved whatever I got after this. “I was going to ask if you’d thought more about,” I cleared my throat, “about staying.”
She hesitated.
I held my hands up. “I know. I’m sorry. Forget it.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I just—I don’t know. But I don’t know that I’m not staying. I’m working through a lot. Can you be okay with that?”
Hope flared within me, and I struggled to keep it in check. I gathered her into another hug and held her tight. “I can.” I could be okay with damn near anything, if it means she would stay.
She squinted across the yard. “Is that Miss Betty?”
I looked. “It is.”
Devon looked at me. “Do you know Miss Betty?”
I flailed. How did I do this without making it also sound like I’d been lying about how well I knew Gigi this whole time? This is why I should have said something at the beginning. I wouldn’t be so paranoid.
“Oh, we all know Miss Betty,” I said. Which was true. I needed to chill. “Small town, remember? In fact, I need to ask her about a lemon bar promise she made Chief.” I ignored the questioning look on Devon’s face. “Be right back,” I said, then aimed for the pink-haired busy-body.
Miss Betty beamed as I stepped around some kids and approached her. “Aaron! Seems Shirley’s plan is working.”
I widened my eyes at her. “Could you keep it down?” I asked, my voice low.
She looked at me knowingly. “You’ve not told her?”
“I had nothing to do with it!” I sputtered.
She looked like she didn’t believe me.
I pressed on. “Besides, what am I supposed to say? ‘I’m pretty sure your beloved grandmother schemed to get you to come back home—hence the six-month thing—just so you could fall in love with me’?”
She nodded. “Why not?”
I groaned in frustration. “Because I am not yet at the age of giving no shits, as you clearly are!”
She grinned and reached up to pat my shoulder. “Calm down, dear. It’s no good for your digestion to be so upset.”
I hung my head in defeat. I knew when I was beaten: all those nights of playing cards with Betty and Gigi taught me that once they had an idea in their heads, it was impossible to let go. I half wondered if Gigi purposely tampered with things in her house so they’d need fixing while Devon was here.
Seriously. That was the level Gigi played at. I wasn’t sure Devon truly appreciated her grandmother’s genius.
