On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [40]
Until Lilah spoke up, her sweet voice cutting through the hushed tension.
“Wait,” she said. “Wait, don’t leave. Devon wants him. He’ll take custody.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lilah clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late to call the impulsive words back. And really, when she looked into Tucker Sorensen’s suddenly blazing blue eyes, she wouldn’t if she could.
That child needed someone to speak for him.
From the look on Devon’s face when she dared to raise her gaze to it, Lilah realized with a shock that maybe the father needed someone to speak for him just as badly.
Devon looked like someone had just heaved a sack of rocks off his back. A glimmer of relief strong enough to make Lilah’s eyes water crossed his face for a split second before the customary hardness settled over his features again.
His eyes narrowed to slivers of frozen steel as he looked at Lilah. Snared by the intensity of that look, Lilah did her best to stand tall and hold onto the moment when she knew she’d done the right thing for the father as well as the son.
The police officer cleared her throat. “Sir? Can I leave him with you?”
Without sparing the officer a glance, Devon prowled over to where Lilah stood. Her knees went to jelly, but she managed to stiffen her spine.
In a low, vicious voice that sent shivers down her back, Devon said, “Lilah Jane Tunkle.”
She gulped. “Yes?”
“You’re fired.”
No. Not possible. She’d only just started! An angry protest welled up in her chest, but Devon forestalled it with a single raised finger. “If you can keep the kid quiet and out of the way until closing, you’ve got a new job. Nanny.”
Boy, when they talked about life in the fast lane in New York City, they weren’t kidding. Lilah gaped at Devon, feeling like she was spinning out in a racecar doing 160.
Devon crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. “Take it or leave it.”
Okay. She’d messed up quite a bit as a busgirl. And hadn’t enjoyed it that much. And this situation here, with little Tucker staring up at her like she could make or break his world with a single word—okay, she’d pretty much brought that on herself. Lilah looked into those blue eyes, the same shade as his daddy’s and well on their way to being just as shuttered and shadowed, and knew she couldn’t walk away.
“Done.”
Satisfaction gleamed in Devon’s eyes an instant before Lilah held up her own forestalling finger and added, “On one condition.”
He rocked back on his heels. “You’re not in any position to make demands.”
“Bull pucky,” Lilah said bluntly. “You don’t want Tucker getting lost in the system any more than I do. And I understand, with the restaurant and everything”—“everything” being a euphemism for “your incredible self-involvement,” she thought but didn’t say—“you could use some help looking after him. I’m agreeing to be that help. Out of the goodness of my heart, and for the same salary I was promised for bussing tables.”
Devon’s fine mouth quirked. It wasn’t fair he should look so handsome when making such a derisive face. “I haven’t the first clue what a busgirl makes these days, but I’m sure that’s doable. Was that your condition?”
“No,” Lilah said, ticked at Devon’s casual dismissal of the money issue. Her salary might be pocket change to him, but it was all that was keeping the wolf from her door. Shoving it from her mind, she continued firmly, “No, my condition is that you stop referring to Tucker as ‘the kid.’ He’s got a name; use it.”
Devon blinked, obviously taken aback. She braced herself for questions as to why she was making an issue out of this when there were so many other details to discuss, but instead Devon’s gaze flickered toward his son. For a strange, suspended instant Lilah wondered if Devon was going to refuse, but then he shrugged and said in a bored voice, “Fine. Are we through here? We’ve still got an hour of dinner service to go.”
In fact, the kitchen had ground to a complete standstill while the Sparks family drama played