Page 89 of My Beautiful Sin

Chapter Thirty

Since it’s Friday, we spend the rest of the afternoon with Jake on the beach and at the small park that abuts the south side of the DSF. Once the sun starts to set, we grab ice cream cones from the little store near Pacific Avenue before walking back to Brandy’s house. She gets back from LA about the same time we get home, and we settle in for a movie marathon. It’s Brandy’s idea, actually, and she’s also the one who suggests we watch the first two Alien movies.

“We were watching Aliens the night you two met,” she says with a shrug. “I guess I’m feeling nostalgic.”

Since I’m fine with both nostalgia and cuddling up with Devlin for the length of two full movies, I eagerly agree. Devlin doesn’t hesitate either, and there’s something about his immediate, no-strings-attached acceptance that tugs at my heartstrings. Because this is a man with Important Stuff To Do, and yet he’s taking an entire workday to hang out doing exactly nothing with me, my bestie, and her dog.

With a sigh, I squeeze his hand, then lightly kiss his cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“Just because. But there’s a lot more coming.”

He makes a show of looking me up and down, then comically leers. “I can’t wait.”

I bop him with a pillow. “Stay,” I order, as Brandy and I pull together all manner of junk food to call dinner, then spread it over the coffee table along with two bottles of red and three glasses. And, of course, a chew toy for Jake.

As far as evenings go, it’s just about perfect.

Brandy and I spend the next day in a flurry of domesticity. The plan is for Devlin and Lamar to come to the house so the four of us can share an evening together just hanging out. By evening, the enticing scent of homemade spaghetti sauce fills the air, making my stomach growl.

Though it was Brandy’s mom’s recipe, I’d done most of the labor under Brandy’s direction. “Devlin really will be impressed,” she says, testing it. “Careful,” she adds, “or he’ll think you can cook. Won’t he be surprised when you move in together and all you serve him is coffee, toasted bagels, and cream cheese?”

I smirk. “First of all, he hasn’t asked me to move in, just stay over. Second of all, I have pizza delivery services on speed dial, and I am a whiz at adding milk to cereal.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m pretty sure Captain Crunch is candy, not cereal.”

“Maybe. But it’s tasty.” I shrug. “This is why I have to continue living with you. The nutritional benefits of you being my best friend.”

“How you survived in New York…”

“Take-out,” I admit. “Lots and lots of take-out.”

She looks at me, nodding slowly. “Well, I guess we’ll hope that Devlin can cook. Do you think he will?”

“Cook?”

“Ask you to move in.”

“Oh.” I frown. “Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”

“It’s just a question,” she says, innocently.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Because he told you he has secrets. And that he’s dangerous.” She glances at the clock, then grabs a couple of tomatoes and passes them to me with orders to wash and slice. Meanwhile, she finishes topping the lasagna with mozzarella, then slips it in the oven. Honestly, I’m glad for the respite, because it gives me time to gather my thoughts. “I’m not concerned about danger,” I say as I make a point of cutting the beefsteak tomatoes into uniform slices. “But the secrets … if he’s really worried I’ll find something out, then why would he want me around twenty-four/seven?”

“Does it bug you?”

“That there’s something he’s not telling me?”

She nods.

“A little,” I admit.

“Only a little?”

I tilt my head, then point to the clock. “We should both change. They’ll be here soon.”