Spooning Leads to Forking (Hot in the Kitchen #2) - Kilby Blades Page 0,46

something hit her the second she turned the corner. Or, was it she who hit something en route to the magazine aisle? The something turned out to be a someone—solid and soft all at the same time. The someone’s hands were warm and he smelled all citrus and cedar fantastic—kind of like Dev.

“Easy, tiger.”

Shea would recognize Dev’s baritone anywhere, though it took her a moment to step back, get her balance and let her brain catch up to whatever had just happened. He cuffed his big hands around her upper arms, steadying her. Though his words had been delivered with humor and their bump had been minor, his eyes washed over her face thoroughly and with a bit of concern.

“Sorry,” she managed dazedly. Being around him still gave her that stupid, speechless, swoony sort of thing. It was all compounded by the fact that she hadn’t seen him in days. She’d tried to convince herself it was a good thing—maybe even divine providence to keep her out of the shit. The truth was, she’d missed seeing his handsome face.

“Here…let me.” It wasn’t until he let go of her and bent to one knee that she realized she’d dropped her purse onto the floor. Things must have been knocked out of his hands as well, as her purse was now surrounded by a halo of magazines. Men’s Health, Entrepreneur, and Mother Jones, were all among his wares. Shea dropped down to help as well. Upon closer inspection, Dev also held two outdoor magazines.

“You like to hike?”

She paused long enough to pick up his copy of Colorado Trails, an issue she’d already bought the week before.

“The forest is what I missed the most about this place.”

Shea had cobbled pieces of his story together from whatever Trudy and Delilah had said, but she’d never asked him directly about himself.

“You were in San Francisco, right?”

“For fifteen years,” he confirmed as they both rose slowly back up to their feet, him handing Shea her purse and Shea handing back the rest of his magazines.

“I take it you’ve been to Yosemite?” Shea asked, a bit of excitement coming over her as it did every time she recalled the iconic trips from her youth.

“Yeah, a few times.” Dev chuckled and said it in a way Shea could tell was an understatement. Then he did that thing where he seemed to study her in the most flattering and appreciative of ways, before saying, “Yosemite is one of the most magical places on earth.”

“When I was a teenager…” Shea felt the heat creep into her cheeks as she was pulled into the thrall of his intense gaze. “My grandpa would take me there, usually in the summer, but this one time, he made a fuss about me coming out in February.”

Dev’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve seen the firefall?”

Shea nodded in recalled awe as her mind’s eye remembered the scene. At that time of year, Horsetail Falls lit up with the setting sun at a precise time of day. It was called the “firefall” because the fall of the snowmelt looked like cascading fire.

“It was unbelievable,” Shea breathed. “I’ve always wanted to go back.”

“I’m jealous,” Dev replied. “The only two times I managed to get camp site reservations in February, it turned out to be a dry year. Weak falls because of the drought.”

Shea fought against the crazy words that tried to push their way out—words like, “I’d go there with you,” or, “we should try to catch it some time,” not just because it was preposterous to casually suggest an out-of-state date that was five months and twelve-hundred miles away. Because finding any excuse to spend more time in his orbit disobeyed her primary mission: Operation Stay-the-Hell-Away-from-Dev.

“Too bad,” Shea commiserated. “I hope you get there one day.”

Dev nodded toward his armful of magazines and held up his copy of Colorado Trails. “You hike around here?”

“Mostly in the forest around my house. I did a few from a book I found on state park trails.”

“You ought to go to Bison’s Bluff. You’ve never seen anything like the view of the valley at sunrise. You won’t find that one in any book.”

Take me one day, Shea’s heart instructed her to beg. She managed to keep herself quiet. But if he came out and offered, she couldn’t say what she would do. Shea knew what was good for her—knew what was smart, but some part of her couldn’t shake her other instinct, the part of her gut that told her to trust