On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [86]
The late summer days were getting shorter, and just as Lilah had hoped, even at four o’clock in the afternoon, the Sheep Meadow flickered with elusive lightning bugs. Not many, and it was hard to see them before true dusk fell, but Devon had to get to the restaurant in half an hour.
Tucker gaped at the insects like he’d never seen fireflies before, then leaped after them like a young gazelle.
Devon and Lilah sat on the grass and watched for a while in contented silence before Devon headed off to work, and Lilah gathered up her sweaty, red-faced charge and dragged him back to the apartment for a bath.
When he was clean again, she stuffed Tucker’s new art supplies in his backpack and got Paolo to drive them to Market.
Devon didn’t look particularly surprised or pleased to see them, but he didn’t throw them out, either, so Lilah counted it as a win. She let Tucker say hello to Frankie, to whom he’d taken a disconcerting liking. Then, since Violet was already done for the night, Lilah installed Tucker at the back pastry table with his notebook and colored pencils.
She sat with him awhile, chatted with Grant when he had a second, and just generally tried not to be in the way. When Tucker started to frown and squint at the paper, running his hands through his hair the exact same way his dad did, Lilah packed up their things and carried him back to the apartment.
Devon took a moment to wave good-bye from his place up at the pass. Lilah’s smile was so wide her cheeks hurt by the time they got home.
Hours later, when Devon walked in the door, he came straight to Lilah’s room. She had waited up for him reading one of her New York City guidebooks—pretty soon she’d be able to give guided tours herself—and wearing the blue pajamas.
His eyes flared with heat when he saw her propped up in her bed, glasses on her nose. She’d toyed with the idea of waiting for him in something sexier (which she didn’t really own) or maybe undies, or even naked, but now she was glad she’d decided not to put on airs. Or lingerie.
That look on his handsome face, and the way he touched her through the thin, soft cotton—Lilah threw her head back on a gasp, vowing to wash those PJs and wear them every single night.
Devon kissed her, and slid his hands down her body, and Lilah melted under the attention like ice cream left out in the sun. And when it was over, he stayed with her until she fell asleep.
That day set the pattern for the next few days. On Tuesday, they took Tucker up to the top of the Empire State Building. Wednesday and Thursday were reserved for the American Museum of Natural History, because it was too huge and too enticing for Tucker to rush through. The planetarium show was an especially big hit.
Every evening, Lilah and Tucker hopped into the big black chauffeured car and headed to Market for family meal with the restaurant crew.
At first, Devon mostly observed as his brigade took breaks to joke with Tucker (Frankie) or show off their knife skills (Milo, who could carve the most marvelous shapes out of vegetables) or let Tucker stir something on the stove (Quentin, whose quiet, easy manner with the boy made Lilah smile).
But as time went on, Devon started jumping in. He’d throw a careless remark Tucker’s way, or hold out his hand for a high-five as he passed by. Because Tucker tended to watch his father covertly and constantly, he always responded instantly, which had Devon grinning like a fool.
Sometimes Lilah had to bite her lip to keep from laughing—or maybe crying—at the tentative bob and weave of their father-son bonding ritual.
It was slow and a little painful to watch, but progress was being made.
Devon felt it, too, she could tell. Service hadn’t improved much over the past week—customers were still unhappy and reservations had started dropping off as word spread—but Devon didn’t descend into the black despair she’d seen in him that night at Chapel.
He wasn’t thrilled, and obviously wanted desperately