Dream On(51)

“Brie.” She raises a hand in greeting.

Closing his mouth, Roger seems to recover himself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s been too long.” He wraps Perry in an awkward one-armed hug and thumps him on the back with his fist. “How have you been?”

“Good. No complaints.”

“And the shop? How’s it going?”

Perry shifts his weight. “The shop’s great. I’ve expanded my inventory, and second-quarter sales are up. We’re doing better than ever.”

Roger clears his throat. “That’s not what Devin tells me.” Even though he lowers his voice, we all catch his words.

Perry glares at Devin, who shakes his head imperceptibly.

“The offer’s still on the table, Perry. Think about it. I can set you up, give you a chance to—”

Perry snorts. “Two minutes. I haven’t been here for two whole minutes, and you’re already doing what you always do. For the last time, the answer’s no. Good to see you, Dad. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab some food.” With an icy glance at Devin, he strides away.

“Perry, wait,” Devin calls. “Be right back,” he says to us before jogging after Perry.

“Roger!” A fortysomething blonde with shoulder-length hair beckons from a scrum of people gathered around a large red cooler about twenty feet away.

Roger waves back. Pasting on a tight smile, he returns his attention to Brie, Marcus, and me. “It was nice to meet you all. Please, help yourselves to whatever you’d like. And, Cass, I hope we have the chance to talk more soon. It’d be nice to get to know the woman my son is dating.” His voice is deep and even, like Devin’s, but his words hit me like the growl of a wolf. Because this man is a wolf, as cold, cunning, and calculating as one anyway—I’d bet my summer salary on it.

“Thank you,” I blurt, but he’s already gone.

“Well, that was awkward,” mutters Brie.

“Tell me about it. What’s the deal with Devin’s dad?” I ask Marcus.

He shrugs. “No clue. I just know he’s some kind of big shot.”

Brie snorts. “He’s a big, douchey dick. Sorry,” she adds to me. “I know he’s your boyfriend’s dad, but I call them like I see them.”

“Not my boyfriend,” I say. “But otherwise, yeah.” I can’t believe how Devin’s dad belittled him, and in front of his friends to boot. And judging by Devin’s stoic response, I’d wager it wasn’t the first time it’s happened either.

I glare at Roger through the crowd, at his broad back and the haughty lift of his chin. Mom might push me, but she’d never speak to me like that—alone or in front of other people—or intentionally try to make me feel small. Sympathy for Devin curls around my heart.

And Perry. No wonder he doesn’t get along with his dad. I have no idea what kind of offer his dad was talking about, but clearly it’s a sore spot between them. And it sounded like Devin told their dad something about Blooms & Baubles Perry didn’t want him to know. I grip the bag of snacks so tightly against my ribs its contents crinkle.

This is going to be one interesting night.





Forty-five minutes later, Devin finally reappears. He flops down between me, Brie, and Marcus onto the thick navy blanket we’ve spread on the ground, hair windswept and cheeks rosy. “There you are. Where have you been?”

“Right here. Where have you been?” Draining the last of my hard cherry seltzer, I drop the can into the empty paper bag serving as our makeshift recycling bin and take a long drink of water from my Hydro Flask.

He lifts a bottle of Coors to his lips. “Sorry. I ran into my Great-Aunt Lydia and got roped into a very long conversation about, let’s see, her fireman son, the state of her ulcer, and the failing health of her favorite Chihuahua.”

“Did you find Perry?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I think he left.”

“That’s too bad.” My gut tightens. I was hoping I’d get a chance to thank him for the paint set, but it looks like that’ll have to wait.

Devin shoves to his feet. “Come on. I want you to meet some friends of mine. I saw them earlier but haven’t had a chance to say hi yet.”

“Are you guys okay here for a bit?” I ask Brie and Marcus.

Brie salutes me with a potato chip. “For sure. You go on ahead. Marcus and I are going to play cornhole.”

His dark eyebrows bounce. “We are?”

“Yep, and I hope you’re good… because I hate to lose.” Grabbing him by the bicep, she yanks him off the ground and toward the three cornhole sets farther down the shore.

Devin proffers his hand. I take it, and he hauls me to my feet. “Come on, let’s go.” Slipping my canvas bag onto my back, I follow him.

“Are you okay?” I ask Devin after we start walking.

“Fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. Your dad… he’s hard on you, isn’t he?”

He gazes out at the shimmering lake dotted with boats. “Sometimes. He just wants me to be my best.”

“By belittling you in front of your friends?” I say quietly.

“He wasn’t belittling me. He’s right. I still have a lot to learn if I want to be as successful as he is some day.” His neck stiffens, tendons straining.