would break confidence to tell him.
But that hadn’t happened. Delilah didn’t push. Delilah didn’t have information. Delilah had a hunch. And, twice now, she’d said her piece.
“I’m getting to where I’m going to do something about it,” Dev proclaimed with conviction. Because it was time for him to say his. “Some trains run too fast for you to get them to stop.”
“Just be careful with her,” Delilah said once again, and in a way so strange, he didn’t know whether Delilah meant that Dev should be careful not to hurt Shea or the other way around.
“Didn’t think you were coming…” Dev only half-tried to rein in the smile that broke free the second he saw her walk down the aisle. “Thought maybe I had you out too late.”
He’d killed hopeful time near the front of the store that morning, waiting as long as he could. When noon had come and gone without her morning visit, he’d mentally written off the day as a strikeout. No peace between he and Delilah. No breaks in the case. No responses from Don Jr. about his meeting requests. No sign of Shea.
“You know I’m not right ’til I have my green juice,” Shea quipped.
He’d offered to make her a tall cup of his favorite elixir, many times by then. Each time, she’d sworn it off.
“So today’s gonna be the day?” He raised his eyebrows with interest.
“Sometimes, you just gotta jump in.”
But something about it was vulnerable. Sassy on the surface with a hint of something shy, something that devoted him to her at the same time as it made him bold.
“Come with me.”
He motioned to her to follow him to an area set up past the produce off to the right. Dev had gone all out with his pressed juice bar. He had a few loyal customers who came in for their juice every day. He always kept plenty of fresh, organic vegetables cut and washed.
“Motor Oil?” It was the name he had started calling his green juice. “Keeps everything running…” he baited.
He pointed to the menu above him, which showed the name of each juice he made and what was contained inside. His favorite concoction combined kale, parsley, beets, spinach, carrots and a touch of apple. Shea did not seem enticed.
“Uh, no thanks.” He could tell she was trying not to cringe. “How about Summer Golden Milk?”
He liked that she hadn’t chosen one of the overly fruity recipes—what he called in his mind the “cocktail juices.” Turmeric mixed with milk and spices wasn’t for the faint of heart. It also wasn’t the selection of an amateur and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was sexy when a woman knew her antioxidants. He tried to sound impressed without seeming overtly surprised.
“Solid choice.”
The “summer” in his golden milk meant that he didn’t serve it warm—at least, not at this time of year. Dev cold-pressed the turmeric root, then added it to a shaker full of ice and almond and coconut milks. She looked on as he shaved in some cinnamon bark and fresh nutmeg before giving it all a good shake.
“You know…” he said as he poured it into a tall, clear, compostable cup that looked like plastic but was made of corn. “Juice isn’t the only thing I do well…you ought to let me cook you dinner on Thursday. Maybe you’ll finally tell me about your script.”
Never before had Dev been so thankful for all the business deals he’d negotiated. Exuding grace under pressure was a valuable skill. No one would know it to look at him, but Dev hadn’t been this nervous to ask a woman out since he was thirteen.
“I thought you said you couldn’t cook.”
He chuckled and put the lid on her drink, tearing off the bottom part of the paper and putting in a straw before handing her the cup.
“Can’t and don’t are two different things.”
She took the proffered cup, narrowing her eyes and gratifying him with that tickled expression he loved—the one he’d only ever seen her use with him.
“You been holdin’ out on me, Kingston?” She scrutinized him for a long minute, her nose dipped and her gaze watching him from above the top rim of her glasses. It made him want to skip dinner and wine and respectable, get-to-know-you conversation and get straight to the part where they got to kiss. It took all that was in him not to kiss her when he leaned closer to issue his answer, a low rumble