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Devil You Know(Lost Boys Book 1)(88)

By:L.A. Fiore


“Can I help with anything?”

“No. It’s all pretty much done. So how are you finding Deadwood?”

“We love it.”

“It’s a great little town. I didn’t realize the cottage was on the market.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s been sitting empty for so long, it’s nice to see people living there again.”

“What happened to the previous owner?”

“She died. Cancer. It was very sad.”

My heart twisted thinking about the cottage and how picture perfect it was. How had Damian found the place?

“Let’s take our drinks and join the men. This time of year is just perfect for outdoor dining.”

Especially when they had an outdoor area like theirs. Teak furniture—tables and chairs and lounges—all resting on a slate patio, which also had an outdoor kitchen and fireplace. And there was Damian with Bobby, sitting in chairs looking out at the amazing view. Damian looked good in this setting. He looked good in the city too, but there was something about him here, like he had come home. Did he want this at some point, like when he retired? Did he see himself settling in the country, raising horses or pigs or cows? I could see him, Mr. Badassery, becoming a farmer. Those big hands gently caring for the animals in his charge. I wanted to see that, wanted to be a part of that.

“This is amazing.”

“Bobby built it.”

Missy took the arm of Bobby’s chair, his arm immediately went around her waist. I took the seat on the other side of Damian, felt a pang of jealousy seeing the obvious affection between them. Footsteps sounded as Hank and Wynona came running outside with a ball and baseball mitts. I wanted to reach for Damian’s hand, but before I could his strong fingers linked with mine. He was watching the kids, and yet he held my hand tightly in his. My heart squeezed in my chest. It was still there…every emotion he stirred in me, had stirred in me since I was seventeen. I truly was irrevocably in love with this complicated man.



Dinner had been delicious and not just the quality of the steak, but Bobby was a true grill master. We were sitting inside; the kids had gone off to watch a movie. I had had two glasses of wine so was feeling rather mellow. Bobby and Missy were adorable together, often affectionately teasing one another as they were now. I shifted my focus to Damian and felt a jolt to find his eyes on me. I rested my head on my hand and stared back. He was beautiful, even more so when he was relaxed, and he was definitely feeling relaxed right now. I wanted to crawl into his lap. I wanted to leave here, go back to the cottage and rip each other’s clothes off. He clearly read my thoughts because his pale eyes turned darker. He made some sound from deep in his throat, but it was the accompanying look that had heat pooling in my belly, and a little lower if I were being completely truthful.

“It’s getting late.”

I felt giddy hearing Damian making an excuse for why we needed to leave and energized because I so wanted that look he had given me to mean what I really hoped it meant. Jumping up and running to the car wasn’t cool, so I managed to pace myself, but my heart was galloping in my chest.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“We should do it again,” Missy said as she walked with me to the door.

“Our house next.”

“I’ll bring dessert.”

We hugged. She actually hugged me and yet I barely knew the woman. I waved to Bobby who was shaking hands with Damian. When I reached the car, Damian was already pulling the door open. I watched as he walked around the car, felt my heart move into my throat. He started the car and pulled down the drive. My brain went completely blank. I couldn’t grab onto a subject if my life depended on it. By the time we reached the cottage my body was so over-sensitized that I wanted my clothes off because they were actually hurting my skin. And how badly I hoped Damian would be the one to remove the offending articles. He shut off the engine then looked over at me and there was no mistaking what was going on in his head. Before he could act on the heat I saw burning in those pale eyes, his phone rang. Talk about a buzz-kill. He glanced at the number and all that was hot turned ice cold. My heart stopped, but now it was worry causing it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve got to take this?”

“Is it Cam?”

“No. It’s personal.”

Those words ricocheted around in my head. It’s personal. And feeling what I was feeling those words cut deep so I was just as abrupt when I said, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

I strolled inside and headed right to my room. I showered, changed and lay in bed staring blindly at the re-runs of How I Met Your Mother but thinking about his personal call.