Chapter Seventeen
Gabe didn’t want Devlin to leave, but she had to open the coffee shop for her early customers by six. He had the day shift at the bar and today was chili cook-off Tuesday. Leo made chili that was nothing short of perfection and they submitted it under the Finnegan’s bar name, so he had a lot at stake in the competition. Leo was an authentic chef, culinary school included, and Gabe was lucky that he’d chosen to work with him. His cooking was one of the reasons Gabe had decided on expanding the bar to include an all ages eatery—he wanted a place to feature Leo’s foodie masterpieces.
He was sampling a second bowl of chili as Leo walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, leave some for the judges.” Leo put the cover back on the pot after giving it a stir.
“I can’t help it, if I could inject this into my veins I would.”
“I hope the judges agree. I’ve come in second place the last two years, and I can’t figure out why.”
“Mrs. Crenshaw must’ve made a deal with the devil, that’s the only way to explain how she wins every town cook-off.”
“I picture her using one of those 1950’s cookbooks that has ham filled Jell-O or raw beef as the featured recipes.”
“I like a good steak tartare.”
“That isn’t tartare,” Leo explained. “My grandma made a dish with seasoned raw ground beef held together with eggs. I’m not kidding when I say she served it at barbecues, just left out in the heat.”
“Raw ground beef?” Gabe questioned.
“Oh yeah, we loved it as kids, but I couldn’t imagine eating it now.”
“I’m thankful you don’t have those recipes.”
“You didn’t stop in here last night,” Leo ventured after a moment.
“I was…busy.”
“I’ve noticed you haven’t stopped in on your days off like you usually do. Does it have anything to do with a certain barista?”
Gabe glanced toward Devlin’s shop, wondering what she was doing right now.
“Ah, so it does.”
“It does,” Gabe admitted. “We got close at the cabin when we were snowed in and we’ve, uh, kept it going since we’ve been home.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Anyone that stops you from working sixty hour weeks is worth it.”
The sound of the doorbell jangled in the bar, and they heard Devlin’s voice come from the main room.
“Gabe? Is anyone here?”
“Speaking of your distraction, I think you’ve got a visitor,” Leo called as Gabe sprinted out of the kitchen. “I’ll stay back here and watch the chili. It needs to simmer for a few more hours before the cook-off tonight.”
“Hey! I didn’t think I’d see you until later,” Gabe said, walking around the bar to give her a quick kiss before leading her to a bar stool.
“Emma came in and I had to come over and find out what this divine smell is.” She closed her eyes in pleasure and took a deep breath. “I’d say it’s chili, considering the contest tonight, but I’ve never smelled chili this good.”
“I don’t know how he does it, but Leo is able to take the most mundane food and elevate it to levels that I’ve never tasted. I still don’t know how I got him to stay here.”
He wanted to tell her about his plans to open an eatery to highlight Leo’s talents, but they weren’t at the point where they could each talk about their respective plans. He wasn’t sure that, despite everything they’d done in the last few weeks, they were ready to go there.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he offered.
“That’s the reason I came over.”
“You mean you didn’t come over just to see my handsome face?”
She reached up and stroked his cheek, scratching over his day-old stubble. “That’s obvious, but no, chili isn’t the real reason for this visit. Annabelle called me this morning and asked if I could be a judge at the chili cook-off tonight. I wanted to let you know that Finnegan’s would now have a ringer in the judging department.”
“I don’t know,” Gabe joked, “Mrs. Crenshaw is on a roll after winning the tater tot hotdish contest in October. I’m not sure you have the time to sway the other judges.”
“You have so little faith in me.” She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. “I have abundant powers of persuasion.”
“You can persuade me to do just about anything, but unless you’re going to seduce a bunch of octogenarians, we’re just going to have to win the old fashioned way.”
“Oh fine,” Devlin sighed. “I was already letting the power go to my head, it’s best that I don’t realize my full potential.” She looked at her watch before standing. “I’ve gotta go, I want to shower before tonight and maybe get a nap in.”
“My afternoon is free,” Gabe insinuated. “I can come over there later?”
“No, I really do need to nap. If you don’t remember, we didn’t get a lot of sleep after cleaning the paint last night, and five a.m. comes at you real fast. If I’m going to stay up to do this judging, I need to get some rest. How about I stop over when I get up, we should have time for dinner before the contest?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to fill my free time, Dev.”
Devlin kissed his cheek and called over her shoulder as she opened the door, “I’m sure you’ll find something productive to do.”
* * * *
Gabe did find something to do, and the afternoon flew by. He’d started a woodworking project in the fall—a long table to set up in the hopeful new eatery. One of the first things he’d done when renovating his parents’ house was build an addition to the garage—a heated workroom where he could craft his projects year-round. He’d been sanding the large tabletop all afternoon and was sweaty enough that he’d pulled off his shirt. He’d just finished off the last section when he heard a low whistle behind him. He turned to see Devlin leaning in the doorway.
“No, please don’t stop. The way your muscles move makes me think indecent thoughts.”
His whole body went on high alert at her words, and he set the sandpaper down, but not before striking a pose with his muscles flexed.
“You like what you see, huh?” he joked.
“More than like,” she answered as she sauntered over to him. “I rang the front doorbell but didn’t get an answer, then I saw the light on back here.”
All reasoning fled his brain as she ran her hands up his chest and pulled him in for a kiss.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” he managed, breaking the kiss as he leaned back on the newly sanded table. “You’re all fresh and showered and I’ve been working in here all afternoon.”
She gave him a small shove and he fell back with no resistance.
“If you haven’t figured out by now that I find you alluring all hot and sweaty, I’ll just have to show you.”
He lay back hard on the table as she undid his pants and took his cock into her mouth, sliding it into the root. The tip nudged the back of her throat before she slid up, letting it out with an audible pop before repeating the process. The swirl of her tongue over the tip every time she raised her head made him see stars. He moved his hands to her hair, running his fingers through it before holding her steady and pumping into her mouth. She brought him to the brink of release, and he let go, trying to pull her up by the shoulders.
She replaced her mouth with her hand, stroking as she leaned up to kiss him. He struggled to tame her long skirt, but she slapped away his hand after grabbing a condom out of her purse. His breath hitched in his throat as she climbed on the table and straddled him, skirt and all.
“Just lay back. You must be so tired after working all afternoon.”
“I know you’re teasing, but the image of you straddling me is the only thing I want to remember when I’m old and gray and I don’t know my name.” He hissed through his teeth as she rolled the condom over his cock.
She raised herself to her knees and positioned her skirt around them, sliding his cock into her tight pussy. He reached under her skirt and grabbed and handful of her ass, urging her into motion. Her hot breath puffed over his face as she leaned over him, her hands braced on either side of his face, raising up and slamming down, rubbing her clit against him on every downward motion.
He looked at her face, her eyes closed in concentration, and silently took back his earlier words. It didn’t matter what image of her was ingrained in his psyche in old age, if the image was of her he’d die a happy man.
He held his breath when she stopped, grinding down on him as her orgasm overtook her, a loud keen coming out of her mouth and his mind snapped a mental picture of her bliss.
Gabe let her rock over him as she came down from her high until he couldn’t stay still any longer, pumping into her one, two, three times until he released with a shout, and he felt his soul leave his body, the ecstasy too much to bear.
Rolling on to his side, he hugged her. He felt her run her hands, exploring over his back and butt.
“No splinters?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, I wouldn’t notice them even if I was a pincushion for them.”
They lay side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the table, and he reached over and took her hand as she scooted closer to lie on his chest.
“You do build sturdy tables,” she offered. “When did you start?”
He paused for a moment, thinking about how he’d started woodworking.
“I did some stuff with my dad, projects here and there around the house, but high school was where I found out how much I loved building things. I had the choice to take woodworking or mechanics and I chose woodworking.”
“I don’t know why, but I pictured you as starting later in life.”
“You’re sort of right. I learned the skills in school but was too young and inexperienced to do much with it until after college.”
“What was your first big piece?”
“Pru requested a table from me. She needed something for her dining room and couldn’t find anything she liked, so she begged me to build her one.”
“She has great taste, this just proves that more.”
“Her pushing is what got me back into doing it on a regular basis.”
“What do you like so much about it?” She toyed with a lock of his hair as he spoke.
“Creating art from nothing is such a rush. When I’m working on a project, I feel like I’m meant to be there, in that exact moment, creating that exact thing.”
“That’s deep.”
“I can’t explain it.” He shrugged. “I get a vision when I look at an unfinished piece of wood. It could be a stump, a pile of boards or a huge slab of an old torn-down barn. I just look at it and I know what the final resting shape in its life will be.”
Devlin didn’t speak, then blew out a breath. “I take it back—that’s positively existential.”
“I don’t mean it to be, it’s just my experience. After Pru’s table, I’ve commissioned a few pieces for her clients that wanted something similar and made extra for the local furniture store that have sold well—side tables, coffee tables and chairs, too.”
“A successful businessman twice over.” A smile played on her lips. “You should have a guarantee when you sell your furniture that you tested it out and it won’t collapse, even with vigorous lovemaking.”
A laugh rumbled up and he shook with it at the thought of handing out ‘safe for sex’ certificates with each of his items.
“We’d have to test everything then.” His tone turned pragmatic. “Each chair, table and bed frame.”
“I’d love to be part of your quality control department.”
“Tell you what, I’ll make you the supervisor, as long as you’re willing to take on the important responsibility of being my number one tester.”
“Well hold on now, before I accept, I need to know more about the benefit package you’re willing to offer me. Will I have sick time or vacation time? I think insurance will be important, because even though I trust your work, I can’t guarantee that we won’t get crazy and go above and beyond the line of duty.”
“It’ll be a full time job, so I’ll offer insurance and we’ll roll sick and vacation into a very competitive personal time off bundle.”
“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.” As she spoke, an alarm went off on her. “Shoot, I need to be at judging in thirty minutes.” She turned off the alarm, hopped off the table and smoothed her skirt then her hair.
Gabe followed suit, setting himself to rights. “I can whip up something quick. We have time.”
“No, that’s okay. We’re going to be eating boatloads of chili and if we’re still hungry, we can eat something after.”
“I’m glad they decided to have this at the library instead of the community center. They can take donations and might increase the number of people with library cards at the same time.”
“Changing locations was Annabelle’s suggestion, I’m glad the council went for it.”
As they walked the few blocks to the library, hands clasped in solidarity with each other against the cold, Devlin spoke.
“We’ve talked a lot about the coffee shop, but not a lot about your bar. Why did you choose that business to open when you could’ve had a shop where you sold your furniture?”
He shivered against a strong gust of wind. “I worked in that bar every summer in college that I could and for a while after before I got an office job.”
“I can’t picture you wearing a suit every day, let alone cooped up in an office.”
“I stuck it out for a long time thinking that was what I was supposed to do after getting my degree. Then one day after work I was at the bar with some co-workers and the guy who owned it was talking about selling. I saw it as my opportunity to get off the corporate merry-go-round and do something else with my life.”
“What was your degree in?”
“Finance.”
“That must be serving you well still.”
“It is.” He didn’t say that his degree was helping him to secure the new space for his eatery as he opened the door, thankful they’d just gotten to the library and he didn’t have to continue with the natural flow of her question.
The small one-room building was jam packed. The promise of free food never failed to get people in the door.
“Oh, this is divine,” Devlin said. “Between the warmth and the delicious smell, I could hibernate in here for the rest of winter.”
“Don’t turn into a bear on me yet. You’ve got a job to do, and I want to beat Mrs. Crenshaw.” He gave her butt a small pat. “Now get on over there and do whatever you need to make Finnegan’s chili number one.”
“What happened to winning fair and square?”
“That was before I saw this.” He pointed to Mrs. Crenshaw holding court by her crockpot, wearing all her previous first place ribbons. “Now I’ve got something to prove.”
Annabelle joined them as Gabe finished this statement.
“The only thing you have to prove is that second place is just as good as first place. She’s not going to lose,” Annabelle stated.
“Hey, you know I have my ringer right here. I’ve got this thing in the bag,” Gabe declared.
An hour later, Gabe was holding his second place ribbon, perplexed.
“I tried them all. I tried them all more than once and Leo’s chili was clearly the winner.”
“I’m sorry.” Devlin put an arm around his shoulder. “Leo’s chili was better, but all the other judges liked Mrs. Crenshaw’s. You were a unanimous second place, if that makes you feel better.”
“Somehow I don’t think that will look as good hung up in Finnegan’s. ‘It was unanimously decided that our chili wasn’t the best.’”
“Chin up, Gabe.” Annabelle threw on her coat and walked out of the door with them before veering off in the direction of her condo. “I promise that I’ll give her a run for her money at the peach pie bake-off this summer.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, AB,” Devlin called and got a wave in response.
“What’s tomorrow?” Gabe asked.
“I’m having a late lunch with AB and Pru. Lots of wine and even better company.”
“I work a double tomorrow. Did you want to keep me company tonight?”
“Emma is opening in the morning, so I’d love to stay over. You’ve got to warm me up after this walk. It’s gotten a lot colder out.”
Gabe gathered her close to him as they walked the rest of the way to his house but couldn’t stop thinking about what conversations Devlin would have with the other ladies tomorrow. He wasn’t sure he’d come up at all and felt a pang of sadness that he might, and was sure it wouldn’t be in the happiest of contexts. They were inching closer to the proposal deadline, and he’d been able to compartmentalize their situation until now, but separating themselves from the proposal was getting harder with each passing day. They’d had conversations where they’d delved into each other’s histories and hopes and dreams. He was having a difficult time separating what they were doing now with what was to come. He didn’t want to think about it, though, so he did what he did best when it came to Devlin and shoved the interfering thoughts into the recesses of his brain.