Page 27 of Vows in Name Only
“All right, Team It’s About to Go Down. For two hundred points... In the category of sports. Who ran the world’s first marathon?”
They answered correctly with Philippides, and the next forty-five minutes passed in a furious and often hilarious blur of questions, answers, cheers, taunts and laughter. As theLord of the Ringsfan, whose name he’d learned was DeAndrea, emitted a battle cry that would’ve made William Wallace envious, Cain realized with more than a little astonishment that he was having fun.
When was the last time he’d just enjoyed himself? When he laughed, relaxed and let go of the weight that had burdened his shoulders since—well, a long damn time.
It felt...good.
He glanced at Devon, who was clustered with her team, preparing for the next question. The kids gathered around her, throwing their arms around her shoulders with affection. They obviously loved her. Trusted her. What did they know that he didn’t? This side of her—openly friendly and caring and funny—he hadn’t glimpsed it since the garden. Not surprising given their recent history. But she gave that to these kids without reservation.
And Cain wanted it again. Craved it.
As if she sensed his regard, she lifted her head and met his gaze. Emerald eyes lit with humor. Pink flushing her cheekbones. Sensual lips curved in an easy smile. Thick hair that he dreamed of having tangled around him pulled back into a high ponytail.
She was beautiful.
Who was the real Devon Cole? This playful, warm woman? The manipulative, grasping social climber? The hurt daughter, horrified to the point of sickness at her father’s actions? The passionate, greedy lover who’d burned in his arms?
“Hey, cut it out!” the girl with the blue glasses shouted, jabbing a finger in his direction. “No sending Ms. Cole the kissy eyes. You’re the enemy!”
Devon’s face flamed, and Cain grinned at her obvious embarrassment.
“That’s her man, he can do whatever he wants,” DeAndrea countered. “And all’s fair in love and war.”
It was official. The girl not only had fantastic taste in fiction, she was now his best friend and ally.
Laughter exploded from the back of the room. At some point, a crowd of kids and adults had crowded in to witness the competition.
Ten minutes later, Trivia Titans ended with Team Come At Me Bro, Cain’s team, beating out Team It’s About to Go Down by one hundred points. He waited until the cheers and yells had died down before lifting his hands.
“In thanks for letting me join in and for Ms. Cole for inviting me down here, I’m treating everyone to a pizza party. The entire community center.”
The kids who hadn’t participated in the competition jumped to their feet, adding their shouts to the others. Several more minutes passed before Devon calmed them down and instructed them to meet their parents downstairs or get ready for the center’s van to carry them home.
As the kids filed out, they clapped their hands to his in high fives or bumped fists with him. A few hugged him, and his chest tightened at all the signs of acceptance.
When the door closed behind the last child, Devon turned to him, her hands clasped in front of her. The smile she’d worn for the last hour remained, but no longer reached her shuttered gaze. He instantly regretted the loss of that friendly, unguarded grin.
“Thank you for the pizza party, Cain. You didn’t have to do that.” She shook her head as she set about straightening the desks. “And I don’t think you realize what you signed up for. Those kids caneat.” She chuckled.
“I remember the hollow leg I had at that age. Especially for pizza. But no need to thank me. It’s the least I can do for the fun they gave me this evening. It’s...been a while,” he murmured, crossing the room and helping her rearrange the desks.
“What’s ‘a while’?” she asked.
He paused, glancing over at her, but she continued with her task, not meeting his eyes. Used to keeping his own council for so long, the words lodged in his throat. But, straightening, he waited until she paused as well and turned, locking gazes with him.
“Longer than I can remember,” he murmured.
She studied him, her scrutiny almost uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry for that, Cain,” she said, and he restrained his instinctive flinch at the compassion in her voice. “But I’m glad you could find it here. That the kids could give those moments to you.”
Not just the kids.
He locked down the words, but he couldn’t deny the truth of them.
Turning away from her—and himself—he resumed straightening the desks. But he couldn’t suppress his curiosity about her. About this side of her.
“When I walked in here, I expected you to pitch for a donation, not be the host to a trivia throwdown. Most women I know focus their energy on raising funds for an organization or sitting on its board, not getting their hands dirty. What are you doing here, Devon?”
