“It’s the right thing to do,” Devon said into her ear, and she rolled her eyes.
“Okay, parents, I’m off.”
“You not going to introduce your friend?” her father asked because, of course, he would. Her mother’s eyebrow went up.
“Friend? Not Trina and Ayoluwa you going out with?”
“No, it’s not…”
“Is a man friend, I bet. I hope is not one of them lil’ pipers from up the street. Or some other one you always seem to hang out with.”
Her mother thought all the guys in the area that she was friendly with were unemployed and bad influences just because they usually hung outside their houses in the afternoon, doing nothing productive, in her eyes. Her mother didn’t want to hear that even though the guys always flirted with her, they looked out for her too. They weren’t as bad as her mother was making them out to be.
“Mummy, I don’t want to keep my friend waiting. I gotta go. Meet me in the car, please,” she told Devon, hoping he would listen, but of course, the man was standing outside the door when she slipped out, looking tall and delicious as usual. She closed the door firmly behind her before her parents could get so much as a peek.
“Go, go!” She hustled down the walkway towards his car, not waiting for him. “C’mon, open the door, man.” She slid into the passenger seat as soon as the alarm beeped.
Devon came around the front and got in the driver’s side. She expected him to start the damn car and go, but he sat there, staring at her, taking in her short pink wig, her clingy red dress, and fishnets that went into her black boots, then back up to her hair.
“You cut your hair? And you got bangs?”
Reba snorted. “Oh, you clueless man. This is a wig. Devon, meet the Pink Lady. She only comes out on special occasions.”
Devon stared as if she had lost her mind. It was the usual reaction she got when she spoke like this about her hair. “You name your wigs?”
“Yup. Karaoke is all about the fun, so the Pink Lady was appropriate.” She shook her head from side to side, enjoying the swish of the pink ends against her jaw. “Maybe someday, you’ll meet Cassandra. My red wig that comes down past my shoulders in these lovely waves. Very old Hollywood glam look.”
“None of this makes sense.” He started up the car finally. “Why didn’t you want me to meet your parents?”
“Because, to them, you’re the perfect package, and they would just want to eat you up. Now, I’m not averse to eating anything you want to feed me.” She wiggled her brows even though he was totally focused on the road. “But they’d hope you would calm me down some, so no, you don’t get to meet them.”
His fingers dug into the steering wheel. He still didn’t look at her. “You can’t just say shit like that, Jesus.”
“It’s the wig. She brings out more of my fun, flirty side. You haven’t even seen the best part yet.” She rooted around in her bag for the last piece of her outfit. She slipped the cat ears headband over her hair, waiting for his reaction.
Devon didn’t disappoint. The red light he was forced to stop at gave him ample time to take in the glittery headband. “Seriously?”
“Yes, isn’t it cute?” She cocked her head at him. “You’d look pretty adorable in one of these. Like a big, scowly cat.”
“Pass. There’s not a chance in hell I’m wearing that.”
“Well, I didn’t bring you any, so chill. Baby steps. Let’s get you comfy talking to your co-workers first. At least you look nice.” She purposefully gave him a full head-to-thigh look. “One suggestion…while I’m digging the sexy CEO look, roll up your sleeves. You’ll look more relaxed.”
Devon had decided to come out tonight in a snug shirt and well-tailored pants that moulded to his legs as he sat in the car. Reba had been getting her fill at the way those thighs flexed as he drove. He was bulkier than his brother, and Reba was all about it. He was too busy looking at the road, so he hadn’t caught her ogling him yet, but now she did nothing to hide her frank appraisal. She could make a nice seat of those thighs if he was ever so inclined.
“I’m good.”
“Come on. A little sexy forearm action goes a long way.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“Never say never around me. Everyone falls under my spell eventually.” It sounded like a ludicrous thing to say, but Reba knew her strengths.
Devon might be a little more resistant than most who came into contact with her, but Reba didn’t shy away from a little competition. He didn’t know it yet, but Mission: Make Devon King Fall Under My Spell was already underway.
He looked away just as the light changed and muttered, “Thank God,” as if having to focus on the road again meant a reprieve from her flirting.
Ah, poor clueless man. Silhouettes was probably about another fifteen minutes away, enough time to keep annoying him and give Devon a pep talk since he was so not vibing with her good mood.