Spooning Leads to Forking (Hot in the Kitchen #2) - Kilby Blades Page 0,53

stopped trying to justify his abnegation somewhere between game time and dessert. Seeing her with his family only made him want to bring her closer. For reasons he couldn’t justify with logic, he was convinced that every last one of them needed one another.

Shea was the easiest to pinpoint: she was out here all alone. Except no one should be alone and she needed people. Delilah needed a friend who was more her speed, because moving back to Sapling had been an adjustment for her, too. And Evie was never happier than when she fell into the role of surrogate mother to lost children.

And Dev...Dev didn’t know exactly what he needed from Shea—only that, whatever it was, he needed more. He didn’t care anymore that she was unavailable. Something much, much deeper than her beauty and intrigue held his attention. There was more to her—so much more—than the eccentric city girl who was writing a screenplay and knew her food. Dev ached, somehow, to know her other parts.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” came Shea's polite response, though Dev didn’t think he imagined her voice was a few degrees sadder. Suddenly, it was everything to him, just to get her to smile.

“Then maybe we’ll all invite ourselves over to that big mansion of yours and impose ourselves on you. You can make us all a salad in a big wooden bowl because...”—he did air quotes with his fingers—”…salad and cereal are the only things you know how to cook, and I’ll let you beat me at monopoly again.”

By the time he finished, she had swung her gaze from the passing scenery to his face and was giving him an incredulous look.

“Let you win?” she questioned with a voice to match. “Boy, please. You’d better ask for a refund for that business degree...”

At that, Dev chuckled, and her indignant expression melted into a smile.

“You know, it’s not Monopoly every time,” he explained as he maneuvered a few key turns. “Delilah loves Scrabble. We have about seven different versions of Trivial Pursuit. Evie likes Pictionary ‘cause she says watching me act out scenes is like watching a yeti have seizures. We play that one at least once a month.”

Shea finally laughed—a genuine one that lit up her face and doubled Dev's resolve to make this woman happy somehow.

“Now, that I’d pay to see...”

“No entry fee necessary,” he coaxed. “Just accept the invitation.”

Shea shook her head slightly, appearing to weigh a few things against her better judgment.

“Alright,” she finally conceded. “Next week I’ll come.”

Not wanting to upset his delicate victory, Dev smiled in approving response and quieted for the rest of the ride. The deputies came up Elk Mountain as part of their patrol. Being up there brought back memories of driving up the same road with his mother, what now felt like a million years ago.

Back when he was little—when he’d wanted for things he hadn’t yet known were unimportant, he’d wished to grow up, grow wealthy, and to own one of the big, glass houses. After his grandpa told him John Hamren was his biological father, all of that had changed. Not that he knew too many people who lived on Elk Mountain, but Dev had stayed away ever since. He didn’t think he would voluntarily go to one of those houses for anybody other than Shea.

The house itself was an extraordinary beauty—all lit up from inside with buttery light—all stonework and weathered wood holding up panes and panes of floor-to-ceiling glass. He hated that he loved the design. It was an architectural wonder. But he didn’t like Shea living all the way up here in a secluded, glass house all alone. He was only half a law man—not the jaded cop-type who had seen too many weird crimes. But it wasn’t a stretch to think Shea could be a target.

When he reached to open the passenger door to escort Shea out of the car, she seemed surprised to find him standing at her door. After missing just one beat, she took his assisting hand with familiar poise.

“I’d like to walk you in if you don’t mind. Make sure everything’s secure.”

The only sass she gave that time was a little shake of her head and a roll of her eyes. Walking ahead of him and fishing the keys out of the pocket of her coat, she tossed her answer over her shoulder.

“Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

Dev paid less attention to the interior of the house than he paid to identifying all points of