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“Waiting on someone?” I ask.
“Luke,” she gasps, face lighting up with a smile when she sees me, eyes growing wide. The warm blush I crave fills her cheeks.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Her cheeks blush brighter. “I’m so happy you’re here. Is one of those for me?” she asks, indicating the drinks with a pale, freshly manicured hand.
“Or both. Whatever makes you happy.”
She giggles, reaching for the rosemary whiskey sour, leaving me with the greyhound. “I like this one better.” And then she wraps her free arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against her for a hug, barely avoiding spilling both of our drinks. Her high heels bring her head up just above my shoulder and the familiar scent of coconut and lemon with it.
When she pulls back, I let my hand linger on her waist for a few extra breaths. “You look incredible.”
She giggles again. “Thank you. You look,” she pauses for a moment, looking me up and down, taking in my combed-back hair, freshly trimmed beard and fitted dark-gray suit. “You look incredible, too.” She cocks her head to the side, unabashedly staring at me.
“Hello, darlings.” Bea’s voice comes from my left, and I reluctantly give up eye contact with Allie to greet her. They squeal over each other’s outfits while I sip my drink.
When another friend of theirs joins, they include me in the conversation by sharing how I moved furniture yesterday. The story paints me in a better light than I deserve. Allie asked me for help, and I know how hard that is for her. There’s no way I’d pass up the opportunity to come through for her, to be someone she can count on.
The rest of the evening plays out similarly, Allie shining brightly while she and her friends exchange stories and make each other laugh. She’s more relaxed than she is at Station 19. Without the weight of being in charge, she’s letting loose.
“Don’t think just because you helped out last night, I’ll go easy on you with my girl.” Devon speaks quietly enough from her position next to me that only I can hear.
Suppressing a smile of admiration for Devon’s fierce protection of her friend, I invite her critique. “Tell me what you’re worried about.”
Devon narrows her eyes at me skeptically. “I don’t know you. She doesn’t either, really. But she likes you, and she trusts you.” Her words come out like an accusation. “To be clear—I do not like you, and I do not trust you.” She pauses, staring at me with searching blue eyes that are level with mine with her heels on, while she considers her next words. “You will be carefulwith her.”
Her words are firm and deliberate, but not practiced. Still, I wonder if Devon has ever had this talk with another man. Or men. The thought stirs a level of jealousy in me deeper than I knew I was capable of.
“I am careful with her, and I will continue to be,” I respond, keeping my voice respectful and not defensive.
Devon persists, either not satisfied with my answer or her own warnings. “She gives a lot more than she takes. Do not take advantage of her.”
“I would never take anything from her.”
“You’ve already taken the one thing her entire future was hanging on.”
“That’s fair.” We both know what she’s talking about, and I don’t bother defending myself. The idea of Allie movingTurbineis more distasteful to me every day. Watching her struggle to find a new space keeps me up at night.
I glance down at Allie, where she stands to my other side, and she flashes a brilliant smile up at me before returning to her conversation. I’m amazed that she’s allowing me into her life despite the trouble I’ve caused her.
When I look back at Devon, she glares at me and sighs in frustration. I half expect her to ask me my intentions next, but she says, “She likes peonies. The season is short, so don’t miss it.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Thank you for that.”
Devon’s eyes narrow at me again, judging. “Don’t fuck this up.”
I nod in affirmation before returning my attention to Allie. Leaning down, I whisper, “You want to grab another drink and get some air with me?”
She squeezes my wrist and whispers back, “Yes, please.”
We get two fresh cocktails and find a quiet spot with a bench in the courtyard outside. It’s May in the desert, so the days have been blazing, but the nights are warm with a slight breeze occasionally blowing through.
Settling my arm across the bench behind Allie, I consider her little pink dress and all the skin it exposes. “Are you cold?”
“No, it’s perfect outside.” Still, she inches a little closer to me. “Warm desert nights like this are my favorite,” she says, smiling up at the sky.
“This will be my first desert summer,” I look down at green eyes framed by thick black lashes that beam back at me, “but I can already tell I’m going to love it.”
