Don't Go Baking My Heart

Devon

“Oh.”

The small exhalation from Reba should have slapped some sense into Devon. He should be apologising for saying something so fucking out of line, and yet the way her mouth was hanging open slightly left him feeling smug.

He had managed to leave her somewhat speechless for a few seconds. It wouldn’t last long. Reba was quick on her feet and a master flirt. She would recover soon, and Devon would ultimately regret his decision to lose his entire mind and ask such a question.

He had to be hungrier than he thought. What other reason could there be for this?

For me to wonder what, if anything, you’re wearing under it?

Fuck, had he actually said that? Out loud, too?

It had been an honest thought that he should have kept buried in a specific corner of his mind where he tried to stuff any Reba-related items that didn’t have anything to do with baking.

When she walked out from behind Dax at his office, Devon hadn’t been sure how to deal with that. She had invaded his personal space at his home already—which was entirely his doing—and now here she was at his office, uninvited, invading his work space. In a dress that just screamed for someone to bend her over a table and…

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shifted in his chair, reached for his legendary control, and wiped all wayward thoughts from his mind. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

He took a sip of the water he had just noticed was on the table. When had that gotten here? Jesus. He hoped JB or whoever hadn’t quietly walked in on him saying that shit. He had truly had an out-of-body experience, hadn’t he? Devon didn’t let people walk up on him without noticing. That shit just didn’t happen. But with Reba—just as he’d feared—things that were second nature for him were glitching. Until he got this person he didn’t recognise.

None of that meshed with his carefully organised plans.

He shouldn’t be here—in this ridiculous place that flouted a basic rule such as providing menus for its patrons—with her. He should be in his office finishing up his important presentation. Devon didn’t have time to be out wasting time at lunch with Reba.

Yes, he needed to apologise, but he could have easily said no to this and left it at that. The only thing was Reba wouldn’t have accepted that and might have just lounged around his office the entire day out of spite. Then what? He’d definitely get nothing done. This had been the easier and more logical choice, and yet… Nothing about this was turning out to be simple.

“Oh no, no, no, there’s no way in hell we’re acting like that didn’t just happen.” The shiny gloss on Reba’s lips was even more of a distraction when her mouth curved up into that grin. The one he had come to learn meant mischief was on the horizon.

“Can we please just do that? I’m hungry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“So, you get flirty when you’re hungry? Interesting.” Reba poked the top of her dress with her nail. “To put you out of your misery and answer your question, I’m wearing a bra today. As for underwear, well…” She paused. “There isn’t much of it, but it’s there.”

Devon’s fingers dug into his thigh. This was his own fault. He couldn’t expect Reba to ignore the easy means of teasing him he had thrown her way.

“This is you putting me out of my misery? Underwear isn’t appropriate lunch discussion. Let’s just talk about something else. Please.”

Reba took a sip of her water. “You ask so nicely, but I just don’t feel like moving on yet. You opened the door.” She braced her elbows on the table and leaned forward, chin on top of her clasped hands. “So, what’s your preference? Boxers? Briefs? Boxer briefs? Or do you like the feel of the material against your bare skin? Quite frankly, going commando is really freeing.”

“No.” There was no way in hell they were doing this. He could haul ass out of here and take a taxi back to the office, but then he would seem like he couldn’t handle Reba. She would be more than satisfied if he literally chose to run than face this head-on.

“No, as in you’re not wearing anything under those well-fitting pants or…?”

“No, as in I will not be discussing my underwear with you here.”

A throat clearing above them made Devon want to sigh at the obviously bad timing the server had. He looked up, and the woman standing there with their food didn’t seem the least bit shocked. She placed a plate in front of Reba then the other for Devon.

“Interesting company you always keeping.”

Reba smiled up at her. “Oh yeah. Always.”

“Enjoy your meal.” She shot Devon a look before adding, “And conversation.”

Reba clapped her hands, picking up her fork. “Bon appétit!”

If the ground could swallow him whole at this very moment, he would welcome it. Devon wasn’t easily embarrassed because he didn’t find himself in such situations, usually. It wasn’t that he was currently feeling that emotion, but conversations like these weren’t meant for just anyone to be privy to. Another anomaly because he didn’t generally have discussions like this in public.