Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Laird headed into town, a rare day off calling for David’s pizza or calzone or something, and a trip to Clinton’s Crapitorium to find his mom something for her birthday. The weird, wonderful antique and vintage resale place would have just the thing for his cottagecore and flannel shirt mother.
Also, he would try to find some bizarre Easter thing for his newish niece.
He parked in front of the Crapitorium, figuring he could just take a nice long walk up and down the road as he was going.
He glanced in the window, his mom’s present sitting right there, as if to say, “buy me”.
There was this weird, wonderful, topsy-turvy shelf filled with tea cups and saucers.
It was Alice in Wonderland-esque, curvy and goofy and odd and utterly one of a kind.
The back of it was papered with what looked like possibly vintage patterns or book illustrations.
He couldn’t really tell through the window.
Regardless, this was perfect.
As long as it wasn’t too expensive, it was Mom’s. Yay.
He wandered inside the store, and it was a whole world of weird and wonderful and wild. Handmade items mingled with vintage things large and small. He saw at least a dozen things that he could get for family members if he was willing to go crazy.
“Good morning!” The lady behind the counter this morning looked like Mrs. Clinton, who worked on and off—this being her store—with another lady who happened to be her son-in-law’s mom. Everything about Secret Springs seemed to be interrelated somehow.
“Good morning. I just stopped in to ask how much that shelf is in the window. The Alice in Wonderland one?”
Mrs. Clinton beamed at him. “Oh, let me look. Devon, I’ll be right back.”
Huh. Devon. Interesting. That was the Devon who thought he was too hot to sleep with. That was kinda cool.
She came over with a little red notebook in her hand. “It’s thirty-five dollars. With the cups, it’s going to be sixty-five.”
“That’s an exceptional deal.” What was wrong with it?
“I know! The cups, though, they don’t come apart. The cups and the saucers are glued onto one another. So they’re not really right for big cup collectors. So if you’d like the whole package…”
“Absolutely. I want it, and I’m going to look for some other things. Do you need some help getting it out of the window?”
She beamed at him. “Let me get the cups out and wrapped up, and then I probably will have you help me, sweetheart. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, and if you need to help Devon, before me, he was obviously here first.”
“No, no, we got a huge batch of different yarns from an estate sale. It was a lot we didn’t intend to get, and we’re letting him go through and see which he’d like. He’s just sorting; he’ll be fine.”
“Cool. Then I’ll wander a bit. I need a few other things too.
” He would see what he could see, and go smile at Devon, who was way less mousy than he’d first thought.
Also, the guy was ripped in a lean, runner’s way.
He hadn’t been handsy or gross, but he had stripped the guy down and put him in bed before locking the door behind him when he’d left.
He was kind of a stud, in a super marathon runner sort of way.
“Of course, of course, I’ll start wrapping up cups.” Mrs. Clinton gave him a grin and then went to get a box.
When he made it toward the back, which didn’t take him near as long as it could have, he found Devon sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting out yarn. He wasn’t sure if it was by color or what, but he was obviously happy as a clam.
“Not working today?”
Devon blinked up at him, and offered him a smile. “I thought that was your voice. Nope, this is my weekend. Raven’s on. How are you?”
“Good. I found a good present for my mom, and now I’m looking for something for my niece and my sister.” He looked in the jewelry case in the back, and he thought that he would look at that. Although he’d already looked at both of the ones up front.
“Oh, that’s sweet. Isn’t your niece really young?”
“Yeah, but you know, I learned from my sister and my mother that they can never be too young for jewelry, even if it’s just to hold and wait for them to grow up enough to wear it, and then I’ll get her something like socks or a toy.
” Laird was pretty good at buying things for various and sundry folks; he had a lot of extended family.
So many, in fact, that at the holidays they drew lots to see who was going to get who a present.
Devon sort of chuckled. “None of the women in my life are particularly jewelry-heavy,” he said. “Like our receptionist at the birth center. Naomi. She’s more of a weird figurines of giraffes and zebras kind of lady. Everything in her house is black and white and orange.”
His eyebrows went up. “Wow. That’s a choice.”
Devon glanced up from his yarn again, grinning. “What, are you all chrome and black?”
“My place? Nah, right now it’s all stuff that comes with the rental.”
“Oh! Right. You haven’t been in town too long…” Devon’s cheeks went a delicious pink.
“Nope. My family is from here, and when she told me the fire department was going from volunteer to permanent, I signed on and came home.”
“My place is all very cottagecore. Warm jewel tones, deep colors, lots of pillows and blankets and yarn. Lots and lots of yarn. Yarn and books.”
Laird cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, I kind of know that. I took you in and put you to bed that day you were so tired, and it’s not like I snooped around or anything, but I couldn’t help see how pretty your place was. It’s really comfy.”
Devon’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Right, it was almost like I was drunk. I was so tired. Thank you for being so kind.”
“You didn’t have any trouble getting into work and getting your car at the coffee shop or anything?” Laird had worried about that, but Devon had never called even though he’d left his number on the refrigerator.
“Raven came and got me. He’s the other accoucheur at my birth center. But I really appreciate it, and I still have your number.” Devon said that last part in a rush, as if it was something that he wasn’t sure he should be saying.
God that was adorable. Laird just wanted to reach down and scoop him up and just kiss him — like a full-on balls-to-the-wall nom nom nom kissing. “Well, you know, you could use it to call me. We could go have lunch.”
“Lunch?” Devon glanced at him and gave him a tentative smile. “I like lunch a lot.”
“Me too. In fact, as soon as I was done here, I was going to go to David’s. I’m craving a calzone and I know everybody loves the half-and-half salad, but I really like the chopped salad. Also fried cheese. What’s your thought about fried cheese?”
“I think there’s nothing wrong with fried cheese. I think fried cheese is amazing. Wanna share some fried cheese?” Devon actually looked surprised at himself.
“I absolutely do. We can get some ranch and some marinara to go with it.” Laird beamed. There was something about Devon that just drew him in. Something that was utterly beguiling that he hadn’t seen on first meeting him. But the more he got to know him, the better it got.
He understood why Devon was so good at his job. He had this amazing empathy and a smile that calmed you down even as it lifted a guy up.
Not to mention, he smelled good—really good.
At the risk of sounding like a terrible alphahole, he thought Devon smelled a little bit like antiseptic, but that wasn’t exactly a turnoff for somebody who was an EMT.
But underneath it was the smell of some sort of very masculine soap, and then the utterly unique scent of Devon himself.
One way or the other, the whole package was really wonderful, and Laird wanted to get to know Devon better, both physically and in a friendly way.
If he was perfectly honest, it was more than maybe.
“Do you want to help me sort yarn?” Devon gave him a sweet but somehow devious grin, and Laird folded himself down onto the floor, cross-legged, so that he could peer at what Devon was doing.
“We’re sorting by weight and type. I’m keeping the natural fibers.”
“So that’s wool and cotton.” His entire knowledge of fibers was flannel.
“Along with mohair which is wool. Alpaca, angora, anything labeled like that. If it says acrylic, polyester, etc., then that’s going to go to the church ladies.”
“Got it.” He could do that. That was completely understandable. He knew how to read labels, so he started helping sort things into piles based on what it said on the label.
They chatted easily, and wide-awake Devon was clever as hell, funny and charming. And that carried right over to them finding a cameo for his sister and a little silver bracelet for his niece. And then on to lunch.
He helped Devon load up his car, then they both headed across the street to David’s, the scent of marinara spicy and rich. The bell over the door jangled as they walked in, and Dave himself came out to wait on them.
Soon they were settled with salads and drinks, waiting on the mains.
“So, what else are you going to do with your weekend? Anything fun?”
He blinked at Devon. “I don’t know. I can’t go too far. I’m not on duty, but I am on call.”
Devon chuckled. “Me too. Always on call, to be honest.”
That was…refreshing. It was strange to have someone who understood being on call, who didn’t get angry.
“Anyway, what do you like to do besides eat?” he asked. Then Laird slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh my God, that sounds awful. Like all you ever do is eat. I just meant that’s all you and I have ever done together. Do you like to go to the festivals around town and stuff?”
“I love festivals, and I like jeeping. Do you like to go jeeping?” Devon beamed.
“I mean, I don’t like to drive because, well, I’m not afraid of heights or anything, but I don’t think that I’d be very good at keeping it from flying off a boulder someplace if I did it.
But I do love to go out with the outfitters. ”
Babbling Devon was adorable, really adorable.