“I’ll see when I can get Michelle out there and let you know.” We take our seats, order our drinks and food, and shoot the shit until it’s well into the late afternoon and Lincoln has to head back home. It’s bittersweet watching him leave, knowing he’s far away, but it’s for the best. He has Presley and Noah down there; I have a feeling another one will be in tow in the next year or so for them.
I head home, trying to figure out a way to get Michelle to stay with me tonight, or me with her. I don’t care what it takes. I want her wrapped up in my arms tonight. Instead of heading home, I turn around and head to her shop. Maybe after I see her, I can convince her to spend the week with me.
14
Michelle
One Month Later
“Are you sure you’re okay with working on your weekend off?” I question Devon for the millionth time this week.
“I’m positive. I wouldn’t have offered if not. Plus, a few of the workers could do with the extra hours.” He brings my hand that he’s holding to his mouth and kisses it. We’ve spent every waking hour together; well, besides while we’re working. Even then, he’s sneaking his way to the shop for lunch, and I brought him food one night when he had to stay at the office late to work on the plans for my mother’s pergola. I rolled my eyes at that. She’s never asked for this before, so I’m wondering if my Aunt Mira got it into her head that she should do it.
He even picked up everything my parents would need, supply-wise, leaving them with nothing to buy. Something I’m sure they’d bitch about.
“Okay, Mom and I will probably make everyone lunch, so no complaining,” I tell him. He doesn’t complain if I make him food, but he likes to be the one to pull his wallet out for everything.
“I won’t say anything.” He holds his hands up in mock defeat.
Dad has the back gate open, so we make our way around to the back where we see all of the lumber that’s been dropped off.
“Oh my goodness, do they know you paid for this yet?”
“No, and you can keep your pretty lips sealed about it, too,” he says with a smile. He knows my parents; they don’t like handouts of any kind.
“You are in so much trouble.” Devon wraps me up in his arms, stealing not only the breath out of me, but also taking me off my feet and spinning me in a circle.
“Ahem.” My dad clearing his throat has us stepping away from each other like we were caught sneaking in.
“Hey, Daddy.” I step away from Devon to give him a hug.
“Hello, Mr. Delaney.” Devon shakes his hand, but my dad pulls him in for one of those manly hugs.
“Hell, I think you can call me Tony by now.”
Mom comes bustling out. She doesn’t look her age, not a day over thirty, yet she’s in her mid-forties. I hope I can age as gracefully as she has. “Hi, baby. Hi, Devon, and like Tony said, it’s past time you call us by our names, not this formal nonsense.” She kisses my cheek and gives Devon a hug. “Call my Sydney. I can’t thank you enough for helping Tony build the pergola.”
I roll my eyes. She’s laying it on thick; my father can’t say no to her about anything.
“No problem. Are you ready?” he asks my dad.
“Yep, you girls stand watch and look pretty.” That’s something Daddy has said on more than one occasion. I roll my eyes, go to Devon and give him a quick kiss, and step back.
“Mom, let’s set up some lawn chairs and watch,” I offer. Today, I’m in a pair of shorts, a tank top, and my signature trucker hat with my hair pulled through.
“Sunblock,” Devon counters over his shoulder.
I watch him put on a tool belt, his arm muscles flexing as he does, and I lick my lips in appreciation before smarting off, “Yes, sir.” He turns around, and when I see the smirk playing on his lips, I store that away for a later date.
We sit in the lawn chairs, under an umbrella, me with sunscreen on, a cold glass of lemonade in my hand, while I watch Devon the entire time. Even when he’s on the roof, securing the beams to the rafters, my heart pounds in my chest, worried out of my mind that he’ll fall.
“What time is your appointment next week?” I’m knocked out of my gaze when Mom asks me that.
“Mom, could you be any louder? It’s next Monday at nine o’clock in the morning,” I murmur quietly. I wanted to let Devon know about it tomorrow, when it was just the two of us, but knowing how my mom’s voice carries, all of Las Vegas has heard her now.