Chapter 7
Reese
I heard music the moment I walked through the door of Devon’s home Saturday morning.
He was on the piano playing what sounded like a beautiful but complicated jazz piece.
I’d had a text from Devon when I’d woken up this morning telling me to just let myself in because the door would be unlocked. He’d mentioned that he’d be in his music room and might not hear the doorbell.
I shook my head as I juggled the items I was carrying and closed the door gently with my foot.
It was still hard to get used to people leaving their doors unlocked, but that was the way things worked here in Crystal Fork.
I certainly didn’t do it.
My door got locked the moment I closed it, and that wasn’t going to change for me anytime soon.
I looked around the home as soon as I entered. It was a very open floorplan with lofty ceilings, so it wasn’t hard to spot the kitchen.
Devon’s home wasn’t just a home, it was a mansion, but somehow he’d still managed to keep it warm and welcoming. I’d felt it the moment I’d seen the exterior after driving down the long driveway.
It didn’t look like a showpiece that was meant to impress people, but it was still pretty impressive.
It was just…gigantic.
I took in the beautiful artwork on the walls as I made my way to the kitchen, one in particular that I suspected was a work by his mother. Millie had a very distinctive style.
I had to hold back an audible gasp as I entered Devon’s kitchen.
For anyone who loved to cook, it was a dream kitchen.
For a man who only used the microwave, it was funny how he’d managed to have every high-end toy and gadget any chef would love.
I opened his fridge to put in the things I’d brought and noticed that he had very little in the enormous space.
Beer.
Water.
Coke.
Mayonnaise.
Odds and ends of leftover food that he’d probably bought at the deli.
And very little else.
I smiled as I shut the door, thinking it was a typical bachelor fridge.
I closed my eyes for a moment and just listened to Devon play, letting the music sink into my soul.
He was an extraordinary piano player, and jazz music was hard to play at this level.
Anna hadn’t been exaggerating.
Devon was that good, not only with his technical skills, but putting emotion into the piece.
I couldn’t resist just standing there for a minute, soaking in the joy of listening to an incredible musician.
I finally opened my eyes, knowing that I had to make my presence known. It felt rude to be in his house and not announce myself.
All I had to do was follow the music until I was at the door of his music room.
“I’m here,” I announced loudly, hating the fact that the beautiful song stopped the moment that he saw me.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he stood up from the grand piano that had been placed in the middle of the room. “I didn’t hear you.”
God, he looked good.
He was dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt with a classic rock band logo on the front.
The shirt looked like he’d had it for a while, and it molded lovingly over his muscular chest and biceps.
Devon might be a jerk sometimes, but I had to admit that he was a gorgeous grump.
“Your playing is phenomenal,” I said honestly. “And this room is incredible.”
He had top-of-the-line instruments around the massive room along with some that I knew were vintage or antiques.
“Do you play?” he asked curiously as he walked toward me.
“Yes,” I admitted. “But not like that. I studied piano from the time I was in grade school, but my skill level is mediocre. I haven’t practiced in a long time. Why aren’t you a professional musician?”
He grinned as he stopped in front of me. “I had a band when I was in high school. I thought I wanted to be a rock star, but I couldn’t sing worth a damn. I can hold a tune, but I didn’t have a great voice for a lead singer. That’s when I decided it was going to be a hobby. It’s a passion of mine, but I’m better at writing music and playing instruments than I am at singing.”
“Still,” I objected. “You could have been a professional musician without being a singer.”
I had my doubts that Devon couldn’t sing. Most likely he just preferred not to do it.
He shrugged. “Sometimes you don’t always want your passion to be a way to make a living. It can take the fun out of it. I’m happy with the way things turned out. I’m good at what I do, and I manage to work with some creative businesses. You love to cook, and you’re incredibly talented at it, but you didn’t become a chef for a living.”
Devon just kept surprising me.
He thought a lot deeper than the shallow, billionaire playboy I’d always imagined he was.
“You’re right,” I confessed. “Having to do it every day for long hours probably would take the fun out of a passion. Speaking of food, I made you something that I left in the fridge. And I brought some things to make lunch. I wanted to do something to thank you for teaching me to ride.”
He looked surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” I insisted. “It’s not much. It’s just lunch and a hummingbird cake.”
His grin widened. “I have to admit that I have no idea what’s in a hummingbird cake.”
I smiled back at him. “It’s a southern recipe. Your mom mentioned that you love pineapple. It has pineapple, bananas, a sweet glaze, and pecans.”
He raised a brow teasingly. “Sugar? I thought you were preaching at me to eat healthier.”
I laughed. “I’m not a health food nut. It’s homemade. Natural ingredients. No chemicals. But it does have plenty of sugar. Nobody can be good all the time, and I like to bake. It’s not going to top your mom’s huckleberry pie or the cinnamon rolls at The Mug And Jug, but it’s really good.”
“Let’s get some coffee and cake,” he called out as he exited the music room and headed toward the kitchen. “We can go over safety rules while we’re eating.”
“It’s not typically a breakfast food,” I told him as I followed him to the kitchen.
“I’m not a typical guy,” he answered mischievously. “Anything with that much good stuff works at any time for me. What did you have for breakfast?”
“Yogurt, fruit, and granola,” I shared. “It’s my normal breakfast.”
“I put something in the microwave,” Devon said as I took the cake out of the fridge. “It wasn’t enough food. The containers are small.”
“Are you trying to justify eating cake for breakfast?” I joked.
“Nope,” he replied as he made us both a cup of coffee with his fancy coffee maker. “I very rarely have to justify anything. I was just letting you know why I’m still a little hungry.”
That was probably true. He was a billionaire, and he was probably never questioned about anything he did.
His tone was so playful that I didn’t take offense. Really, this side of Devon was incredibly…appealing.
I took the piece of cake I’d cut for him, found a plate for it, and put it on the breakfast bar.
He brought forks and the coffees.
“I hope you don’t take creamer because I don’t have any kind of milk in the house,” he said sheepishly as he sat down.
“I usually do,” I admitted. “But I can drink it black.”
“You’re not having any cake?” Devon said unhappily as he sat down.
I unzipped my lightweight jacket and hung it on the back of the chair before I sat down. “I’m good. It’s your cake, and I had my breakfast. I gained a few pounds over the winter because I wasn’t exercising much, and I was cooking a lot. I’m used to being a little more active.”
“You look fine. You don’t look like you’re carrying any extra pounds.” Devon took a large bite of the cake and was silent for a moment while he chewed and swallowed. “Don’t tell Mom, but that’s better than her huckleberry pie and the cinnamon rolls. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”
I swallowed a sip of my coffee. “It’s one of my favorites, but I don’t make it often. I’d eat the whole cake within a few days.”
“A few days?” he asked. “This one will probably be gone by tonight.”
I snorted. “You can’t possibly eat an entire cake in one day.”
“Watch me,” he warned. “It’s not that big of a cake, and it’s so damn good that it will be calling my name all day and evening. I have a pretty healthy appetite, which is why I have a gym and an indoor pool. I don’t think anyone has ever made anything for me before except my mother. It’s really appreciated, Reese.”
Well, that was kind of…sad.
Everyone needed to be appreciated, even a billionaire who had more money than God.
I supposed that no one thought about making him anything because he could buy anything he wanted.
“What’s for lunch?” he asked as he stopped gorging on cake to pick up his coffee mug.
“Chicken burrito bowls. I’ll make yours an extra-large one,” I teased. “I hope you like Mexican food.”
“Love it,” he said like he was looking forward to the meal. “Did you bring your swimsuit.”
“It’s in the car,” I replied. “I was juggling the cake and the stuff for the burrito bowls. I’m going to love the exercise.”
“I told you that you could come here whenever you want to use the gym,” he grumbled.
“I know,” I said softly. “And I appreciate the offer, but you’re already doing so much for me by teaching me to ride. I’d never want to take advantage of your generosity.”
“I’m not really known for being a generous guy,” he said drily. “It’s not a big sacrifice for me. I ride almost every day, and the gym and pool are downstairs. It doesn’t bother me when someone is there. But I’m willing to barter if it will make you feel better.”
I raised a brow. “What exactly are we negotiating?”
“If you use the gym after work, I propose that you make dinner and feed me after you’re done. Just tell me what supplies you need me to stock, and I’ll do it.”
I let out a startled laugh. “You’re supposed to be a savvy businessman. I have to eat, and I’m going to cook anyway. That’s the best you can do?”
He shrugged. “A guy has his personal priorities. I like to eat. I hate to cook, and I can only do really basic stuff. I’d feel like I was making out like a bandit if you make that deal.”
I didn’t think he was getting much for being inconvenienced, but he looked so hopeful that I said, “Done! Is three times a week okay with you? It would help me take off the pounds I gained over the winter. Once it’s a little warmer, I can start walking and hiking.”
“Every day would be fine with me,” he answered eagerly. “But I’ll take what I can get.”
I let out a silent sigh.
I wasn’t sure what had happened to the disagreeable, unpleasant man that I’d been dealing with for the last several months.
This man was a guy I was starting to like.
Wherever the old Devon had gone, I was hoping I’d seen the last of him.
It probably wasn’t a great idea to be spending more time with Devon, but I was starting to discover that this new Devon was pretty irresistible.