Page 4 of Devious Whims

Devon returns the handshake. “Thanks for bringing her to me.”

My heart skips a beat at the proclamation, something only the two of us would pick up on. Mike is none the wiser as he smiles.

“Of course. It’s a bit of a drive for her to take by herself. Are you hungry? We could stop to eat on the way home.”

I smile. “That’s a great idea. I was too nervous to eat anything this morning.”

I try to step away but Devon’s fingers dig into my hips, almost indecently close to my ass, for a few more seconds before reluctantly loosening his grip. I don’t glance back at him as I move to stand near Mike.

My husband takes my hand, nods to Devon, and then looks at the correctional officer watching the entire scene. “Are we good to go?”

The man in uniform nods. “Don’t let me see you back here, Cartwright.”

Devon smirks. “You know you’ll miss me, Hayes. Keep my boys alive.”

Hayes shakes his head, waving his hand. “Get out of here. I don’t know why you’re lingering like a lost puppy.” Even if the words are cruel, I can tell that the officer holds no ill feelings towards Devon.

I smile gently at their exchange, squeezing Mike’s hand as if to say ‘Look he’s not a bad guy.’

Devon turns to us, his grin faltering for a second at our entwined hands, and he clears his throat. “I could go for a bite to eat.”

Mike’s shoulders relax. “Excellent, I saw a diner sign on the way here.”

***

I slide into the booth, and Mike is quick to follow me in while Devon walks to the other side. Biting my lip, I debate moving closer to the middle, closer to him, but decide against it and stay next to my husband.

“I’m sorry, it’s not like a fancy restaurant or anything,” I say, picking at the corner of the menu.

Devon glances at me, studying my face before giving me a half-smile. “I don’t belong in a fancy restaurant, anyway.”

Frowning, I set the menu down. “You belong wherever you want to be, Devon.”

He shrugs, pulling my menu to him and studying it. “Have you been here before? What’s good?”

“Can’t ever go wrong with a burger,” Mike suggests, his arm coming up to rest behind me on the seat. Devon follows the movement with a barely concealed glare, but I can see the hatred burning in his eyes.

“Burger, fries with ranch, and a Coke. Always a classic,” I say quickly, to divert whatever Devon might say instead.

“You used to love club sandwiches,” Devon states.

Mike groans. “God, she still does. It’s hard to get her to try anything else.”

I blush, my heart sinking when I see how irritated Devon is at Mike’s attempt at connecting. “Hey, it’s just as much of a classic as a burger,” I say, trying to defuse his mood.

“With a strawberry milkshake?” Devon asks, and I look up into his questioning eyes. A lost look flashes on his face, as if devastated that I’ve grown so much since we’ve last seen each other.

I shrug. “Depends on my mood. Sometimes I don’t want something so heavy in my stomach.”

“More of a Coke or water type of girl now, huh?” Mike chuckles, bumping into my shoulder.

Throwing him an annoyed glance, I fiddle with the ketchup bottle in front of me. “I’m sure your tastes have changed since you were sixteen. It’s not all that revolutionary.”

“Oh yeah,” my husband groans, closing his menu shut. “I used to be obsessed with bean and cheese burritos with mustard. Now I can’t stomach the thought of it.”

Devon grimaces. I frown and ask, “Did you say mustard?”

Mike laughs, patting his stomach. “What can I say? I was a growing boy.”

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