Dream On(26)

I lean back in my chair with a huff. “How are you so sanguine about all this?”

“About what?”

“Me—this whole situation. I can’t believe you’re giving me the time of day, let alone trust I’m not some psycho spinning lies about ‘coma memories’ to Fatal Attraction you.”

Helping himself to another piece of calamari, he shrugs. “I believe in the supernatural. Or at least, the idea that strange things happen that modern science can’t explain. Plus, I have a sense about people.”

“Your brother doesn’t seem to think so. He’s quite protective of you.” Forking a piece of calamari, I stuff it into my mouth.

“Perry tries. Even though growing up, he was the one who needed protecting.”

I finish chewing, then swallow. “Why? Isn’t he older than you?”

“Only by a year and a half—I’m twenty-seven and he’s twenty-nine. Perry marches to the beat of his own drummer. Always has. Ever since he was little, he’s been digging in the dirt and making bouquets. Talking about taking over the family business and becoming a florist like our mom and grandpa. You can imagine how well that went over with the other kids at school, especially the boys.”

I wince. Kids can be real assholes sometimes. “And you never wanted to take over the business?”

“Nah. Mom offered to leave it to both of us, but it’s not my thing.”

“But I saw you the other day in the store… you were about to deliver an order. Do you work there?”

“Sort of.” At my questioning glance, he elaborates. “Last year our mom was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis—probably from the years she spent working herself to the bone trying to keep the business alive. Her doctor recommended a lifestyle change, so last spring she sold the house, moved to a retirement community in Florida, and transferred majority ownership of Blooms & Baubles to Perry. He ran things on his own for a while, but he’s never had a head for numbers. I quit my job in Columbus earlier this year and moved back home to help him right the ship.”

“Is that how you’re helping him ‘deliver the business into the future?’?” I recount that phrase that stopped Devin and Perry in their tracks.

“You could say that.” His expression is relaxed, but a line forms between his eyebrows as he takes a long sip of his drink.

I tap my fingers against my thigh. “So where do you work if not at Blooms & Baubles?”

“For my dad. He’s a developer on the south side of the city. My hours are flexible, so you can find me at the shop most afternoons helping Perry with the books or dropping off the occasional order when his regular delivery guy is busy.”

Putting down his fork, Devin rests his elbows on the table and folds his hands together. “But enough about me. I want to know about you. I mean, besides the fact you graduated top of your class from Kent State and summa cum laude from Case Western Reserve University School of Law, where you served as the editor of the Law Review and captain of the mock trial team. And now you work for Smith & Boone—great firm, by the way. My dad’s business is a client. Did I get all that right?”

Warmth inches up my neck. “It looks like someone’s been doing some googling.”

“Well, I had to make sure you weren’t going to Fatal Attraction me. Guys like me can’t be too careful with mysterious women like you.”

“I guess I am pretty mysterious.”

“The situation? Yes. You?” He stares into my eyes. “You’re fascinating.”

“Fascinating like a science experiment?”

“Like a person. Now, don’t get mad… but I kind of love that you walked into a glass wall ten seconds after you showed up and laughed it off.”

“For the record, I was dying of embarrassment on the inside.”

“And you obviously ran through the rain just to get here. I don’t know many women who would have risked ruining their outfit or whatever. My last girlfriend never stepped foot in the rain because she hated messing up her makeup.”

My gut twists. He’s edging awfully close to a “you’re not like the other girls” compliment, which really isn’t a compliment at all. Flexing my jaw, I clasp my hands in my lap. “Taking pride in how you look isn’t a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not.” He scrubs his hand through his hair, seeming to sense my tension. “What I mean is… you’re beautiful and smart—obviously you’re smart, you’re a lawyer. And you experienced a brush with death, recovered, and you even seem to be thriving. But despite all that, you don’t take yourself too seriously. I like that about you.”

Maintaining eye contact, he lets the words settle into the space between us. My jaw unclenches and my muscles go lax under the smoldering intensity of his gaze.

“Now it’s your turn. What do you like about me?” Grinning, he rests his chin on his hand and damn it if it isn’t completely adorable.

“Does that line actually work for you?”

“Sometimes. Is it working now?”

“I thought we were talking about me,” I tease.

“Yes, we were.” He sits up straighter. “So, Cassidy…”

“Cass.”

“So, Cass. Tell me about you.”