Rocked (The Everyday Heroes World) - Julia Wolf Page 0,12

at Devon, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, except the man sort of took my breath away. I wasn’t fanciful, nor did I lust after handsome men too often. I worked, took care of my kid, and led a pretty quiet life. That sounded boring, and maybe it was, but boring was better than dysfunctional and out of control.

The feeling I got when I looked at Devon, with his floppy rocker hair, a streak of gray right in the front, wide, easy smile, and rangy, laid-back demeanor, was definitely out of control. My organs swirled inside the confines of my body, and I did not like it.

Out of control was dangerous and devastating. It was crashing into mailboxes and scarred faces.

Control was safety and security. It was tucked at home on stormy nights and the occasional casual hookup with no strings.

When our waitress brought us three steaming plates of pancakes, conversation ceased for a few minutes while we all dug in. Devon was free with his groans and moans, sending my mind spiraling to so, so many bad places.

“Good?” I asked.

“Jesus, who knew pancakes could be a religious experience.” He swiped his napkin across his lips. “Think I’ll be going back to New York with a gut, and it’ll be worth it.”

I eyed the snug T-shirt covering his lean torso. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Devon leaned back in his seat, smoothing a hand over his stomach, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I’ve been here...what? Four days? And this is my second round of pancakes. Before this, it’d been years since I had them. My real life is pretty regimented.”

Ellie jerked her thumb in my direction. “Mom’s is too. Don’t let her fool you.”

His brow lifted. “Oh yeah?”

“Yep. She works, hangs out with me, and goes rock climbing in her spare time. That’s pretty much it. Boring.”

“Kid.” I glared at my traitor of a daughter, but she refused to look at me. “Not all of us can be rock stars.”

Devon rested a tattooed arm along the top of the booth. “What do you do, Kat?”

“I’m a paramedic with the Melville Fire Department,” I said.

Devon sat forward abruptly, his eyes sweeping over me. “No shit? You drive an ambulance and rescue people?”

I let out a short laugh. Being the center of attention was my least favorite thing, and Devon’s attention slid over my skin like warm syrup.

“I trade off riding the seat and driving with my partner. And no, I don’t rescue anyone. I treat patients until I can get them to the hospital, if they need it.”

That was the biggest simplification of my job, but I didn’t need accolades. Devon Chambers was looking at me like I was some kind of hero, when in reality, there were days I disliked my job as much as the next person.

There were also days I got to deliver a baby on the side of the road or got a beloved grandmother to the hospital in time to save her after a heart attack. Those days, I was positive I’d chosen the right career.

“Mom’s a paramedic, and Dad’s a firefighter,” Ellie added.

Devon clasped his hands together on the table. “No shit? You’ve got a family of heroes?”

Ellie nodded proudly while I attempted to melt into liquid and slide right out of this booth. My job was important, but I was no hero. I was doing my thing, raising my kid, trying to get by like everyone else.

“Is it possible to change the subject?” I couldn’t stand to have Devon’s inquisitive eyes on me for another second. “Can we talk about your next album?”

His entire body jerked away. If the back of his seat hadn’t been there, he might have rocketed out of the booth entirely. Maybe even the restaurant.

“There’s no next album yet. I’m working on it.” His mouth had drawn into a tight line. I’d unintentionally hit a tender spot trying to deflect from my own.

Thankfully, Ellie was there, moving us on to another topic, which mostly revolved around her. We were able to finish our pancakes without any more awkward or painful moments. Devon insisted on paying for our lunch along with his, and I didn’t argue. The man had rock star money. I was proud, but I wasn’t an idiot.

Outside Bertha’s Cafe, we lingered on the sidewalk.

“Where are you going from here?” he asked.

I glanced at my daughter. “Ells is going camping next weekend, so we have to buy her a sleeping bag and a few supplies.”

I wasn’t happy about it, but I’d relented.

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