Don't Go Baking My Heart

Devon

Devon should have knownthat the first half of the party was set up to lull him into a false sense of security. Make him think that it was a simple affair with cake, food, and drinks. He should have realised when Leah went reaching for brownies from one of the platters that was tucked away from the rest of the food, and Reba swooped in with, “Not these ones, sweetie. These are for the adults,” that this supposed afterparty was something he should avoid.

Reba had basically told him so with her winking and coy replies this afternoon. But when they walked over to the beach house, he saw some twinkly lights set up on their balcony, a spread with the cake and food, and drinks in the cooler. Music was playing from someone’s Bluetooth speakers. There were even some games set up. Seemed normal enough.

A couple of Uno and Scattergories games later had everyone riled up over some friendly competition but didn’t lead to anything too serious, and Devon wondered if Reba had made him think she was going to do something over the top when it was just this. The moment his mother said she was heading over to put Leah to bed and that the youngsters should stay and have fun, though, the atmosphere changed, and he knew he was in for trouble.

“Aww, Ms. King, leaving already?” Reba pouted.

“You all stay back and have fun. I saw those brownies. I know what’s about to go down here, but thanks for making my day special, sweetie. Make good choices, kids!”

He had offered to go with her, but she’d insisted he stay and have fun for once in his life. Reba’s friends had giggled at that. He hadn’t found it quite as hilarious. He was a grown man; he didn’t need his mother’s scolding about having a good time.

Reba barely waited for his mother to leave before coming over to him with those suspicious brownies, a big smile stretching her deep, purple-coloured lips wide. Her pink hair flowed in waves around her bare shoulders, obscuring part of her yellow tube top, and because he was sitting, her bare stomach with that piercing in her navel was practically in his face.

He had done his best throughout the day not to let his gaze linger on Reba while she had been in that ridiculous gift box-patterned bathing suit. The sun had worshipped her as she strutted around and laid out on her blanket. On this balcony at night, with its muted lighting and the glow of the twinkle lights, she was less in the glaring spotlight, and yet he found himself wanting to make an excuse to leave so he didn’t have this internal fight not to look directly at her.

“Brownie?” she asked.

The sharp smell of weed wafted over to him, and he glanced across to where her friend Trina was taking a drag of what was obviously a blunt. So this was how this afterparty was going to go. Get high and eat some brownies. The questionable brownies, which definitely had weed in them too, he suspected.

“These aren’t regular brownies, are they?”

“Nope. Baked with love just for the occasion.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Reba leaned in, her hair almost brushing his lap. She was close enough that he could smell her faint vanilla scent, even with the weed trying to overpower everything. “Are you asking me if these are weed brownies, Mr. King? Because they obviously are. Ever tried an edible before?”

Maxi swooped by and grabbed one up. He raised a brow as his sister took a huge bite. “What?” she challenged. “Mama needs a break too, you know.”

“Well?” Reba pushed the tray closer to him.

“No, thanks.”

Everyone was getting baked out here, and he didn’t need any photographic evidence of him doing the same. Eating a brownie wouldn’t clue anyone into the type of brownie it was, but still. He preferred to be careful. They had been taking pictures all night, and Devon had to keep a clear head, had to stay focused even during this supposed weekend of fun. He couldn’t go off the rails and get high, do something he would regret, and jeopardise his chances of making partner.

Reba took a seat next to him, placing the tray on a side table someone had set up. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but just know this is a safe space if you wanted to try it.”

“Not my thing. Although the way your friend is going at it over there, I could get high by secondhand contact alone.”

Reba gasped dramatically. “Was that a joke?”

“No.”

She shook her head. “No fun at all. Whatever, more for me.” She took a big bite of one of the brownies and groaned. “Damn, I’m good.”

“You do this a lot?” He tried not to sound like he was passing judgement, not that Reba seemed inclined to give a damn. She kept eating the brownie and crossed her legs, which made the hem of her tiny black shorts ride up even more.

He couldn’t see it since it was covered by her shorts, but her hibiscus tattoo flashed in his mind. Why had she chosen the flower to brand on her skin? Why that location? Most people wouldn’t see it unless she was in a bathing suit like today, or, well…if she was undressing for whatever reason. He tore his gaze away from her legs, meeting Reba’s amused smirk.

“You mean consuming edibles or smoking?” she asked, not calling him on getting caught staring. “The latter’s a no. The former is more a social thing for me.

“Hmm.”

“You like being in control, don’t you?” She licked crumbs from her fingers, and Devon was convinced the weed was getting to him because he lingered way too long on the way her lips wrapped around each fingertip.

He looked away. “Yes. There’s nothing wrong with that.”