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“As I’ll ever be. What are you looking forward to?”
Dev’s grin turned filthy. “Peeling you out of this sweater, not to mention your shirt and pants.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Are you wearing those new briefs? The mesh ones?”
Casey arched an eyebrow. “You’ll have to wait to find out.” He so was, although he had to order them by the dozen because Dev had a tendency to tear them off. Sometimes with his teeth. “But that’s not what I meant. What are you looking forward to with Haru?”
“We’re recording our first track today.” He kissed Casey. “Wanna know what it is?”
“Judging by the sounds emanating from the practice room at Harrison House—which, by the way, are completely audible from here and maybe all over Home—I’d say…” He still got a little jangle in his belly whenever he thought about it. “I’d say it’s ‘Wait for It.’”
“Yup. Do you want…” Dev’s voice went a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “That is, would you like to be there? In the studio?”
Jingle jangle. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you kidding?” Dev’s arms tightened around him. “Babe, I wrote the song for you. And even Haru says that I perform it better when you’re in the audience.” He nuzzled Casey’s neck and whispered, “He says the love shows in my voice.”
Okay, now that wasn’t fair. He glared at Dev so the prickle behind his eyes wouldn’t spill over and poked his chest with both forefingers.
“There should be a town ordinance that nobody’s boyfriend is allowed to say things like that to them right before they walk out the door for a very important event.” Casey looked down his nose—hard to do with a boyfriend who was half a head taller. “You’re the town manager. You should take care of that.”
Dev’s smile was wicked. “Why? Heart pounding? Knees weak?” He murmured into Casey’s ear again. “Cock hard?”
“Stop it. Stop it right now.” Wincing, Casey slapped both palms on Dev’s chest and pushed him away—although he fisted a hand in Dev’s fisherman’s sweater and tugged him back for a last—very quick!—kiss. “We can’t be late. Sylvia would be devastated. You wouldn’t want to do that to her.”
Dev sighed and stepped away. “You’re right. Sorry. We’ll have time later.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go.”
Casey laced his fingers with Dev and they stepped out of the cottage together. A chilly breeze hit them the minute they stepped onto the porch, cutting right through Casey’s sweater.
“Brrr. Maybe I should bring a jacket. Vermont is a lot colder in October than Manhattan usually is.”
“Nah,” Dev said as he closed the door behind them. “Once we’re out in the sun, you’ll be glad of the breeze.”
“If you say so. Clearly, I’ll have to toughen up if I expect to make it through my first legendary Vermont winter.”
Dev chuckled as he led Casey down the steps and across the sunny meadow toward Harrison House. “It’s not so bad as long as you’re dressed for it. Don’t let Pete’s apocalyptic stories scare you.”
“It’s not Pete’s stories. It’s Kenny’s.” Casey shivered. “Pete says nothing but mmmphmmm, which might be more terrifying. I mean, what’s he not saying?”
“Don’t worry, babe.” Dev dropped a kiss atop Casey’s head. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
When they reached the summer kitchen, Casey knocked on the door and peeked inside. Sylvia, wearing a rust-colored duster over her chef’s whites, was pacing in front of her office door, cell phone to her ear.
“You can tell him from me that I never poach anybody.” She spotted Casey and raised a hand in greeting. “At least not without brandy or a nice court bouillon. It was Deborah’s own decision to stay here after she finished the advanced class last month. If he doesn’t want to lose key staff, he should start treating them better. And honestly, Walt, why is he complaining to you?” She winked at Casey. “Just because you’ve been recommending my classes, it’s not like you’ve been encouraging people to jump ship at all the Pillsbury Dickboy’s restaurants. Will we see you soon? Okay. Good. Ciao.” She flicked the screen with her thumb and tucked the phone into her pocket. “Chalk another one up for your uncle. He’s relentless.”
Casey hadn’t been all that shocked when Uncle Walt had severed his business relationship with Bradley. He’d actually listened and taken Casey’s warnings to heart. But when he and Dev had bonded over losing their brothers unexpectedly, he’d gone a step further and started to weaponize the connections he still had in the restaurant business and begun systematically dismantling Bradley’s little empire from the inside. Between that and taking over management of the Harrison investment portfolio—much to Dev’s heartfelt relief and gratitude—Casey suspected he’d be relocating to Home when he retired in a few years.
Casey peered behind Sylvia into the office. “Where is Deborah?”
“She’s been on site since before dawn. Supervising, she claims, but I suspect she won’t be able to resist getting in on the action.” Her smile turned more natural and more than a touch eager. “Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
She patted her hair. “Do I look all right?”
Casey smoothed one errant silver strand behind her ear. “Perfect. Besides, you know the fans love it even more when one or both of us looks a little frazzled. It makes them feel better about their own efforts.”
He and Sylvia, with Haru as camera operator and producer, had launched a web channel called Cooking for the Culinarily Clueless, which featured Sylvia attempting to teach Casey how to make dishes of varying difficulty. They posted two episodes a week featuring recipes simple enough for beginners to master without too much trouble, and every other week they added another with a more challenging dish.
