On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [66]
“Good. That’s . . . good,” she said. “Um. Is the restaurant open for lunch service today?”
“Sunday brunch,” he told her. “Boring. Nothing but eggs Benedict and smoked salmon as far as the eye can see. Don’t worry, though, I’ve got some plans to spice up the menu a bit.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Devon thought he saw Grant wince, but he paid it no mind. The man wasn’t a chef; what the hell did he know about setting a menu?
“I guess Tucker and I should be going soon. Is there anything you want us to get done today?”
Devon paused. “Like . . . what? Homework?”
Lilah gave him a look. “Yes. Other than shopping for new clothes and a toy or two, how would you prefer your son spends his time?”
Crap. “Whatever you think is best.”
There, that ought to do it.
Lilah sighed.
Evidently not.
“Devon.” At least she wasn’t still calling him Mr. Sparks. “Boys Tucker’s age need structure. They need to know what their boundaries are so they feel safe and secure enough to test them out.”
“Sounds good,” he said, a little desperately. “Let’s go with that.”
“With what? You haven’t given me any . . . okay. You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll work something out for today. But Devon, you and me, we are going to have to talk about this. He’s your son, I know you care about him, and you are by God going to show it by setting some ground rules for him while he lives with you.”
Lilah’s eyes were flashing, her rosebud of a mouth furled in bossy disapproval. Devon wanted to bend her over the nearest flat surface and kiss her senseless. What the hell was happening to him?
In an attempt to gain control of the runaway situation, Devon said, “You’re on. Let’s talk about it tonight after dinner service.”
Lilah relaxed out of full-on Amazon mode. “Really? That would be fantastic, if you won’t be too tired when you get home.”
“Oh, not at home,” Devon said. “The whole crew is going out after dinner service. To Chapel.” He looked at Christian, willing him to go along with it. “To show our appreciation for Christian here, taking time away from his bar to help out at Market.”
“Right,” said Chris, expression bland. “Your hooligan brigade plus my tiny bar equals good, clean fun all around.”
Grant bristled. “That dump of yours wouldn’t know good, clean fun if it were full of roller-skating nuns,” he shot back.
“Your idea of fun and mine are obviously a little different,” Christian drawled.
Lilah gave them an uncertain glance. Leaning closer, Devon distracted her from the bickering men by dropping his voice and saying, “I have to be there tonight; I’m sort of the unofficial host of the party, you might say. I’d like it if you’d meet me there. Around midnight?”
“That late?” Lilah’s voice was faint. Devon wet his lower lip slowly, testing the waters, and nearly grinned when her gaze followed the glide of his tongue. “I mean . . . what about Tucker?”
“I’ll call my assistant. Daniel can come over and babysit while you’re out.”
“Has Tucker ever met your assistant?” Lilah fretted. She appeared to be trying to come up with reasons not to meet him at Chapel. “I wouldn’t want him to be freaked out by having a stranger show up.”
“At midnight? Surely he’ll be long asleep.” Sensing her wavering, Devon couldn’t help but push. “I’m not asking you out on a date, Lilah. I’m asking you there as your employer, to discuss matters pertaining to your job. This is when it’s convenient for me. I want you to be there.”
As expected, his high-handedness raised flags of color in her rounded cheeks. Lilah tilted her chin up. “Of course, Mr. Sparks. I wouldn’t dream of disobeying my employer.”
With a regal nod to the guys by the bar, Lilah turned on her heel. Just as she got to the kitchen door, Devon called, “See you at midnight, Cinderella. Don’t be late.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lilah had never seen so many people wearing so very little. The dark, smoky interior of Chapel was packed