Tempting Fate (29 page)

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Authors: Lisa Mondello

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Holidays, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Short Stories

BOOK: Tempting Fate
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Now she was just plain bored and wished she was back at Devin's cottage with him. She'd already gone into the den twice in the last hour to see if Roger was done working and got the non-committal “almost”. She'd be damned if she'd interrupt him again.

It had been a bad idea to invite Roger, she decided as she plopped down on the back stairs, arching her back to pull out the kinks. The sun was sinking in the horizon, giving a milky film to the water and an amber color to the sky. At least there was an occasional breeze to salve the heat and humidity. She only wished she could find something that would salve her own unrest.

The slap of the screen door against the wooden frame jarred her and caused her to turn around. “Hi, Ma,” she said, slightly annoyed that it wasn't Roger.

Ruthie blotted the sweat from her neck with a white dishtowel. “Are you still hungry, dear?”

“We just finished dinner an hour ago.”

“I know, but I’m in the mood for some fried clams?”

A half hour later Cara stood by the takeout window of the Whaler’s Inn. The smell of fried seafood filled her head immediately. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed to get out of the house and stretch. Anything was better than sitting at home, brooding.

Stuffing the change the waiter had just given her into her pocket, she clutched the bag of fried clams and turned to leave. As she walked over the pavement, the sound of her white flip-flop sandals slapping the soles of her feet entranced her until she heard a familiar low rumbling laugh.

Her heart pounded in her chest. It could be anyone. But no, she knew the sound of that laugh. She plopped the bag of takeout on the hood of her car and spun around, scanning the parking lot to see if it was actually Devin. And then she recognized him, sitting at a table on the back porch of the restaurant. Her heart lifted until she saw the tall, leggy, blond wearing a white mini-dress seated practically in his lap.

Penny Brunelle hadn’t changed much. Married three times already since high school, she’d made a career out of arranging weddings for herself as well as others. Now what was she doing with Devin?

Cara bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to know.

If you have any sense at all, Cara, you’ll get in the car and drive away before they notice you. What business was it of hers that Devin had a date? So he’d come to Westport for her birthday party, but that didn’t mean he had to stay in her back pocket the whole time. She clenched her teeth as she watched Penny trying to climb into his.

Although from the several rows of cars that sat between them she couldn’t hear a single word they were speaking, Cara suddenly felt like she was eavesdropping on Devin's private conversation with Penny. She did hear all the bells and whistles Penny was clanging to attract Devin’s attention.

She watched as Penny stood up, pulling Devin to a stand, and wrapped her arms around his waist, gyrating her hips as she moved. It became a conscious effort for Cara to keep her fingernails from breaking skin on the inside of her palms.

And to breathe. She needed to breathe. Forcing a lung full of air into her chest, she yanked the car door open. They were going to kiss and Cara did not want to be around to see it. She’d already gotten a bigger eyeful than she wanted or needed for one night.

So what if Devin has a date with her high school rival?

So what if Penny was scoping out husband number four?

For all she cared, they could go home and...

Pain brought her thoughts back to the present. Cara glanced down at her hand and realized she’d been digging her car keys into the flesh of her palm. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to drown out her thoughts. Almost forgetting the food on the hood, she opened the door, retrieved the bag and slammed the door shut. She turned the corner onto the main road and kicked her foot on the accelerator, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

You’re acting like an idiot! There was no reason for her to be all hot under the hood about seeing Devin with Penny. Just because she chose to spend the night alone, didn't mean Devin had to stay home and brood, too. He had his own life that didn't include her or their friendship. Penny was an attractive woman and Devin was a big boy. He could date anyone he wished.

Besides, she had Roger.

For the rest of the ride home, she worked on trying to reason why that was a plus.

# # #

Chapter Six

The air was still crisp as Cara jogged up the brick path, leading to Devin’s cottage. The sun was floating over the water just waiting to burn off the morning dew. The sweet scent of garden phlox and princess roses filled her head as she climbed the porch steps.

This had to be a first. She’d forced herself out of bed after setting her alarm for five a.m., deciding she’d be the one to initiate the morning run.

She was nuts and that was all there was to it, she realized as she jogged in circles on the porch, trying to muster up the courage to knock on the door. She had no idea if Penny had stayed the night, but the idea of interrupting a morning interlude seemed, well, kind of devilish.

It fit her current mood rather well.

She stopped jogging and blew out a cleansing breath before raising her knuckles to the glass door and rapping on the wooden frame. “There just may be a little bit of Mom in me after all,” she whispered.

She only had to knock once. Within seconds, she heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, coming closer to the door. Regret gripped her stomach, and she had the fleeting desire to bolt while she still had the chance.

The door flew open and she was greeted by Devin’s smoky sleepy-eyed gaze. A flurry of emotions whirled around her. The devilish feelings that filled her just moments ago turned to panic. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

“You’re awake?” Devin said, his voice and expression registering all the shock she felt inside.

His hair was disheveled, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it. He was wearing the now-wrinkled copper colored T-shirt she’d seen balled up on the back porch the day before and the same faded cut-offs. He looked as if he hadn’t had a minute of sleep. And he was absolutely gorgeous. She actually hated him for it.

“I’d have to be if I’m standing here.”

Devin moved aside so she could gain entrance. “But you said you never get up this early. I had to drag you out of bed yesterday.”

My point was to do the same to you, too.

“Look how you’ve influenced me.”

Cara lifted her hands up in the air as if she were parading a new dress.

“Got any coffee?”

She wandered down the hallway toward the kitchen. She took a quick glance through the open bedroom door and noticed it was empty. Amazing how a little solitude can do a girl some good. Especially when Devin was the one sleeping alone.

“Yeah, but it’s a few hours old. Let me make a new pot.”

A twisting pain she refused to call jealousy gripped her gut. She glanced at the bathroom door. Open and empty.

“Up all night?”

“I slept an hour or two, but mostly tossed in bed.”

I’ll just bet.

“I’ll take the dregs of the pot first.”

He grimaced and jammed his fingers through his hair. “That’s suicidal.”

So is dating Penny Brunelle, but Devin would find that out soon enough. Instead she said, “Running at five thirty a.m. can be a bit life threatening, but you have no problem with it.”

After pulling a mug from the rack on the wall, Cara emptied the pot, and topped the coffee off with a dab of milk and spoonful of sugar. If the color of the liquid and the bitter taste were any indication, Devin was right about the coffee sitting for hours.

She dumped the disgusting liquid down the drain and quickly helped Devin make a fresh pot. When it was finished brewing she poured them both a cup while Devin cleared the cluttered kitchen table.

He moved a large stack of books, a laptop computer that was still plugged into the phone jack and countless pencils and highlighters that were scattered about.

“I'll just be another second with this,” Devin said.

As she pushed aside one of the books that was about six inches thick, so she could put down her coffee mug, she read the binding. It was marked The People vs. Wendall Palmer. “A little light reading while you vacation, huh?” she teased.

“Just some research for a court case.”

His lips lifted on one side and her breath hitched in her throat. She turned her attention to the book again to rid herself of the longing she felt while Devin closed up the computer and pulled the cords from the wall. He cleared the area in front of her and began stacking all the paraphernalia in a pile on the opposite side of the table.

She gave an exaggerated sigh. “What was it you said to me yesterday about working vacations?”

He gave her a questioning glance, stopping short in his motion for a moment before returning to his task. “This was part of the reason I took time off.”

She placed her hand over her chest, feigning dejection. “And all this time I thought you came for my birthday party.”

His tired expression lit up. “Speaking of which, what do you want for your birthday?”

“You mean a present? You don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy to see you.”

The truth was, she was too happy to see him. Being this close to Devin, even seeing him tousled and sleep deprived was messing up her thought process. This wasn’t the same as when they were kids. This was different, deeper.

Cara cleared her throat. “But I’m not letting you out of going to the festival with me tonight.”

He reached for the last book and brushed passed her, his warm skin grazing her arm. For a split second, he paused in motion and stared at her. His dark eyes grew impossibly wide and soulful, suddenly full of life. It was as if he’d finally woken up with that single point of contact. His arm lingered there where there skin touched, teasing her with its electric current, bringing with it a fire that started deep inside her, growing with every passing second and spreading heat outward. His lips were slightly parted as if in waiting. His gaze dropped to her lips, causing her pulse to pound. Was he going to kiss her?

But he didn’t. As if startled himself by his own reaction, he pulled back and sat down opposite her at the kitchen table, pushing his chair and balancing it on the back legs until the back hit the wall.

“Ah, the festival, yes. I still think you cheated yesterday,” he said, eyeing her over the rim of his coffee mug. Despite the mug hiding his mouth, she could see the slow smile creeping into his expression. He was teasing her. Or attempting to at any rate. But the heat she’d seen in his eyes a moment ago remained.

He was going to kiss her. She drew in a slow breath of air, somehow vaguely disappointed he’d chosen against it.

She straightened in her chair and took a sip of coffee, waiting until the hot liquid burned its way passed the lump in her throat. “It’s the lawyer in you. You don’t have any plans for tonight, do you?”

She was treading in murky waters. She waited with bated breath as he paused a minute as if he needed to consult his mental calendar. Had last night been so wonderful with Penny that they’d made plans again?

Damn, men are all alike. They get all hot and bothered about some things and then sucked in by a tight mini-dress and gyrating hips.

“Will it be just you and me, or is Roger going, too?”

She’d mentioned it to Roger and while he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going on “kiddie” rides, as he put it, he did give her his word that he would go. She knew the real reason was to please her after working so much these past few days.

“Actually, he decided to come with us. Is that okay?” He frowned and her heart sank a notch or two. What was he getting at? Was he afraid of being paired up or was it that he’d hoped to invite Penny? Before he could think to ask otherwise, she blurted out, “I was hoping you’d ride the double Ferris wheel, just like old times.”

His smile widened and her heart leaped to her throat. Devin Michaels had a way of making her forget who she was. Or remember who she used to be. She wasn’t quite sure which. But when he looked at her like this, all she could think about was the way his smoky eyes devoured her with his gaze.

He dropped his coffee mug on the table and leaned closer. His voice was rich and husky, making her heart sing. “I’m all yours.”

* * *

Now this was a bright idea. As they walked through the wall-to-wall crowd of people all gather along the wharf in New Bedford where the yearly Portuguese Festival was held, Devin seriously considered leaving. Maybe it was him, but it seemed every person who passed by had the arm of someone else. And what was he doing? He was alone, chasing Cara and Roger's shadow, wishing he was the one taking Cara's hand in his.

He laughed at the irony. Even the thought of having her next to him, just holding her small hand in his, was enough to make his body respond. All he could think about was how he wanted to make this incredible woman, his best friend, become his lover.

He wasn't exactly sure when it had happened, but somewhere over the last twenty-four hours his feelings for Cara had changed.

He should have asked Penny Brunelle if she wanted to come with them. Not that he’d actually wanted to date her again. No, he’d seen women of Penny’s caliber more times than he cared to remember. But at least if she were here, this sudden sexual urge for Cara that had come out of nowhere wouldn't be taking control of him.

He sighed as they walked through a crowd of people waiting in line to have their faces painted by a make-up artist. Cara turned back, as if to make sure he was still there and she gave him a crooked grin. That smile alone almost made the uncomfortable feeling nagging at him bearable.

“Want to get painted?” Devin mouthed, waggling his eyebrows.

Cara darted a glance to the people in line and giggled. But then her eyes caught sight of something past the crowd and her whole expression changed to wonder.

“Oh, look,” she said, sprinting to a display table. Curiosity had him following her, or maybe it was just the bright look in her eyes that reminded him of a child's on Christmas morning.

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