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Lucas took a bite of his own burger. No meat in that section, but all in all, not bad.
“You sent Steve packing,” she observed, biting down on a quarter-cut pickle.
Lucas swallowed, deciding to put his cards on the table. “Absolutely. He’s trying to co-opt you to his side.”
“And you?” she asked. “Are you trying to get me on your side?”
“Mine’s the side of truth and justice,” he responded.
Co-opting Devin was not his preferred plan. He needed a decisive win when it came to Amelia. He couldn’t take the chance that Devin might support him now, and then later change her mind because someone had convinced her of the merits of a particular lame-assed project.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” she told him.
“Yeah?” He was curious to hear how she’d couch his side versus Steve’s.
“So far, of the two of you, Steve looks like the good guy.” Lucas set down his burger. “And you wonder why I have to fight you? “
The woman had absolutely no frame of reference. She was a babe in the woods, vulnerable to whomever might sell her a bill of goods.
“We can compromise,” she offered.
“You want me to compromise? You’re so confused, you think Steve is the good guy.” Lucas took a swallow of the wine. It really was pretty bad.
“If I made an agreement with you up front, I’d stick to it.”
He didn’t believe that. Not for one moment. “Until some point in the future when you disagreed with me.”
Devin took another contemplative bite of her pickle. “I suppose that’s true. I mean if you were really wrong about something.”
She was everything he feared—erratic, unreliable and illogical.
Lucas pushed back his chair. “You are impossible.”
“No. It’s the situation that’s impossible.”
Lucas hated to admit it, but he could see her point. “I don’t have an answer that’s going to satisfy you,” he admitted out loud. “All I know for sure is that I can trust me.”
She gave a small, rueful smile. “And I can trust me.”
They both stared at each other for a long moment of silence.
“Stalemate,” he stated fatalistically.
“New topic,” she told him, lifting her glass. “Nice rescue on the catamaran. Lexi asked me to thank you again.”
“I haven’t been sailing in a while,” he answered, itching to continue the debate until she capitulated, but knowing the time wasn’t right. “That part was fun.”
“Sorry about the suit,” Devin offered.
“Funny how I keep losing my clothes around you.”
She glanced away, and he realized his double entendre had embarrassed her. Hell, he hadn’t meant it that way. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Truth was, he had.
Damn it. Not good.
He took another sip of the wine. The taste seemed to be growing on him.
“Do you like sailing?” he asked, trying to bring the conversation onto some neutral ground.
She picked up the conversation thread, obviously relieved to move on. “Yes, I do. And Amelia seems to love it. She’s a water baby.”
“You’ll have to come out on the Sound someday.” “You have a sailboat?”
“A little bigger than the catamaran,” he said. “We’d probably have to bring a crew.” “A crew? “
“Three or four guys.”
“Just how big is this sailboat?”
“Forty-six feet.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a little bigger than the catamaran.”
“We could do dinner,” he offered, knowing it sounded like a date, but not particularly caring. He found himself liking the idea of an evening sailing with Devin. And Steve certainly wouldn’t be able to get his hands on her if they were on the water.
“With a boat that size, we could sail all the way to Vancouver.”
“Sure,” he said, shrugging. They could go wherever she liked.
She sat back in her chair, twirling her wineglass between her fingers. “It’s some life you’re living, Lucas Demarco.”
Lucas glanced around the deck, realizing the homey atmosphere was growing on him. “It’s a nice life you’re living here, too.”
“Not at the moment,” she returned tartly.
He sighed. “You want to fight with me or accept my compliment on your house? “
“My house can’t possibly impress you.”
Lucas leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You, Devin Hartley, are an extraordinarily difficult person with whom to carry on a pleasant conversation.”
She set down her glass and leaned forward to match his posture. “And you, Lucas Demarco, are extraordinarily bad at hiding your condescension.”
“I like your house,” he protested. “Well, not the bathroom.” He glanced up. “And these patio lanterns? Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing you’re—”
He stopped himself.
Had he been about to tell her she was beautiful? What the hell was going on in his mind? “You have a great view.” He gave a mock toast to the moon and the darkened lake.
She tipped her head back to look. “What’s wrong with the lanterns? “
He checked out the faded plastic blobs, some of them warped, and the sagging wire where they hung. “They look like a fire hazard,” he pointed out.
“My mother bought those lanterns.”
Lucas didn’t now how to respond to that.
Devin’s voice rose. “My mother loved those lanterns.”
“I’m uh… sorry?”
“Sorry that you insulted my home, or sorry that my mother has bad taste? “
There was something in her incredulous tone that didn’t quite ring true, and Lucas realized she was fighting not to laugh.
“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
She grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “They came with the house,” she admitted. “But I like them. They make it, I don’t know, festive out here. It feels like we’re having a party every night.”
“Is that how you see life?” Lucas was genuinely curious. “One big party.”
“This, from the playboy of the Pacific Northwest?” “Playboy?” He raised his brows.
“I’ve seen the pictures. I’ve read the articles. Your party schedule is a lot fuller than mine.” She waggled her finger at him. “You have had a very long list of girlfriends.”
“Most of them were just dates.”
“You mean one-night stands?”
“Like I’m going to tell you about my sex life.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper, glancing dramatically from side to side. “Too embarrassing?” He leaned closer. “Too boring.”
A burst of laughter jumped out of her, and she rocked back in her chair. He noticed her wineglass was empty. So was his.
“That was not what I was expecting you to say,” she admitted.
“More wine?” he asked, reaching for her glass.
She contemplated the question for a second. “Sure.”
He rose to head back to the kitchen.
“Is this your way out of an embarrassing conversation?” she called after him.
He set the glasses down on her counter and refilled them, not about to shout back to her and wake Amelia.
But when he stepped back on the patio, she was clearly waiting to see how he’d respond.
“What’s embarrassing about dating beautiful women?” He set both glasses down on the table.
“I was talking about your boring sex life.”
“You going to tell me about yours?” he challenged.
“Nothing to tell.”
“And that’s not boring?” Truth was, he was more than intrigued by her answer. Nothing to tell? What did she mean by that?
“I’m taking care of a baby,” she told him. “Not a lot of time left over for dating.”
“And before that?” Amelia had only been Devin’s responsibility for three months.
“Before that, my sister was going through a rough time. Your brother’s fault, as you well know. The last thing she needed was to see me dressing up all bright and glittery, and prancing out the door to dance the night away with some random guy.”
“All bright and glittery?” He kept it light, but he was intrigued by her decision to skip dating for months on end because of her sister. It had definitely not occurred to Lucas to give up dating because Konrad’s marriage was in trouble.
“Jewelry,” she explained. “Makeup, a dress, and I have this cute little pair of high-heeled, rhinestone sandals.” She lifted one of her bare feet, twisting it back and forth in the lantern light. “Perfect for dancing.”
“You dress up?” So far, Lucas hadn’t seen her in anything but casual cotton. Well, that and the bikini. Devin in that pale blue bikini was seared indelibly into his brain.
“I dress up damn good,” she told him, wrinkling her nose and sipping her wine.
“Then we should get you a date.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Because that’s exactly what’s missing in my life right now.”
“You wouldn’t like to go out for dinner, a little dancing, maybe a play or a concert? “
“And leave Amelia? “
“We’re getting a nanny, remember?”
Devin waved her glass for emphasis. “We are not hiring some Eastern European prison matron to run roughshod over poor little Amelia.”
Lucas shook his head. He pushed the empty chair opposite Devin out to the side and propped his bare feet, lounging back. “You have a gift for hyperbole.”
“I have veto power over the nanny.”
“So do I.”
“This ought to be interesting.” She selected another quarter-slice of pickle and took a bite.
Lucas cringed at the taste combination of wine and pickles. Then again, the wine was nearly vinegar anyway. It was hard to believe he was on his second glass.
Devin propped one heel up on her chair, wrapping an arm around her upraised knee. “Dueling nannies,” she joked.
“I’ve been invited to a charity ball Saturday night.”
