Rocked (The Everyday Heroes World) - Julia Wolf Page 0,48
rough like sandpaper from years of playing guitar and using his hands, but the way he touched me was so sweet and soft, I could have easily slid into feelings for him. Unwelcome and unwanted feelings.
He asked me if I’d met Dylan McCoy, Sunnyville’s resident celebrity. I told him I had, through Veego, since he worked with her husband. Then he told me how he’d chosen Sunnyville, the article, and the waitress in the desert diner who talked smack about him straight to his face. I cackled with laughter at that.
He tossed a carrot at me. “Don’t laugh at me. That hurt my soul. She called me old!”
I threw a piece of raw tuna, pleased when it bounced off his forehead. “You had no issue being called a douche, though?”
He shrugged and popped the tuna into his mouth. “I’ve been called worse. But old? That was a first.”
“You have gray hair. I think it’s time to face the facts—you’re not young.”
He shoved his hair back from his face, the silver streak catching the sun just right so it sparkled. “I was thirty when it started coming in this way. I thought about covering it, but decided it gave me gravitas. I’m rethinking that choice these days.”
I reached out and ruffled his hair. “No, I like it. Don’t cover it.”
He dodged my hand and smoothed his hair again. “All right, Lady. You like it, I’ll leave it.”
We finished up lunch, and I was glad to get through a meal without having to stuff it in my face before running out on a call or skipping it entirely. Hopefully this morning’s vehicular collision would be the worst part of this shift, but I knew well chaos didn’t have a quota. The world could explode again and again over a span of twenty-four hours, and I’d keep answering its ring until it was time to go home.
Devon gathered our trash and helped me off the ground. We stood there on my sunny oasis, neither of us in a hurry to leave. I should’ve been. I had work I could have been doing, and if I knew the guys, they were watching from the windows, waiting to rag on me as soon as I went back inside. It was like having ten big brothers all at once.
Devon’s eyes traveled over me, from my steel-toed boots to my navy cargo pants and Melville Fire T-shirt. His lips curved at the corners, and his eyelids grew heavy, almost sleepy. “You look sexy, Kat.”
“I don’t.” I wiped my hands over my pants. “This is the opposite of sexy.”
“Nope, it’s not. First of all, you’re sexy, no matter what you’re wearing. But this…” he licked his lips and hummed, “your hero-wear is hot as hell.”
He stepped closer, so his fancy LA sneakers touched toes with my work boots. “Just know, I’d like to kiss the hell out of you right now. I won’t, but it’s taking all my willpower to keep my mouth off yours.”
I gave him a smile I hoped was enigmatic, then shoved his chest so he’d take a step back. Not that I wanted him to move away from me; it was more out of necessity. I was doubting my own willpower.
“Go away,” I whispered.
“I’m going, I’m going. Such a mean lady. Vicious.”
I bit my lip, secretly loving his nickname for me. “Such a sensitive gentleman.” I poked him right over his heart. “What are you going to LA for, by the way?”
“Movie premiere. Fun times.” He sounded grumpy. “You should come with me.”
“Right,” I laughed, backing toward the door of the station.
He spread his arms wide, our trash clutched in one hand. “Come with me, Kat. One day, one night. It’ll only be fun if you’re there.”
I paused, my hand on the door. “You’re serious?”
His brows drew together. “Yeah, I am. The more I think about it, the more serious I am. Come with me. Please.”
It was the “please” that made me even consider it. “I...maybe. I have to check my schedule.”
He huffed. “Yeah, I know a brush-off when I hear it. No worries.”
“Devon.” I leveled him with a steady gaze. “I have to check my schedule, which is complicated and barely has any wiggle room. If leaving town is even a possibility, then…I don’t know, going to LA with you could be fun.”
Devon bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement, and my heart flipped and shimmied in the back of my throat.
“You, Kathleen Murphy, are making all my dreams come true.”