Don't Go Baking My Heart

She prayed for his car seat because tonight, she had chosen to go commando. He better stop saying all those nice things if he didn’t want her squirming in his car.

The photo in question was indeed perfect. His outdoor lights were bright enough to light the way, but they weren’t as harsh as fluorescents. There was a warm quality to them that cast her in an ethereal glow.

“Fine. I can work with this.”

She lingered in his driveway, taking some more selfies until Devon asked, “Can we go?”

“One sec. I need to get Cassandra in this light.” She pouted into her camera, throwing in a wink at the end of her Boomerang because a static photo wasn’t enough.

She spun to face Devon who was leaning against his car, waiting not so patiently. “Now we can go.”

They arrived at the venue at the perfect time. Well, she supposed they did. Devon wasn’t on her ass about being late, so she figured they had done just fine. The outside of Stollmeyer’s Castle was familiar to Reba. She had driven around the Queen’s Park Savannah enough times, and the castle wasn’t something you missed. She had never been inside but was fully aware it was among their island’s Magnificent Seven buildings.

Devon was looking up at the building, eyes roaming over the structure like he wanted to reach out and touch.

“When was this built?” she asked. Architecture wasn’t something she cared deeply about, but she wanted to see Devon in nerd mode, specifically because she suspected it would make him ten times hotter.

There was just something pleasing about a person when they got all passionate about a particular subject.

“Between 1902 and 1904.”

“Wow, so it’s old old.” She tilted her head up too before moving forward to rest her hands against the cool brick. “It really does look like a castle with that thingie on top there.”

“The thingie is a turret. It was supposedly modelled after Balmoral Castle in Scotland.”

“Ah. Should we go in?” She was looking forward to Devon gushing about buildings and shit, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stand out here all night when there was wine and more people to admire her dress inside.

She took a quick selfie with the castle as the backdrop before signalling to Devon that they should proceed. Guests were walking about, drinks in hand, as they conversed in small groups about the photos and paintings of Caribbean historical buildings on display.

“Ooh, this one looks nice.” She stopped in front of a photograph of a white house that looked like it had been lifted straight out of the past. She couldn’t place the time period—not that she needed to because Devon had gone into lecture mode before she could catch a glimpse at the info card.

“Ambard’s House,” he said. “It’s actually on this same street. Before White Hall. It’s a little hidden by the trees, so you might miss it.” Next to the photograph was a painting that was an exact replica. “Another of the Magnificent Seven. It’s quite stunning in person, with its porthole windows and iron cast elements. It’s still a private residence to this day.”

“It’s really pretty.” She didn’t have the knowledge to describe the style of the house, but it was undeniable that it was beautifully constructed. “Have you ever worked on anything like this?”

“Not really. Places like these wouldn’t undergo any major renovations since they’re considered Grade 1 properties. Cultural heritage sites aren’t supposed to be altered, really. My firm also does more modern type designs. Of course, if a client wants us to replicate or incorporate a French style like this in a new building, that’s something to consider. But with us getting a lot of government contracts, we tend to want to stick to a more modern look and feel.”

“Makes sense.”

Reba spied a server moving around with what she imagined was champagne and was about to get the woman’s attention when a familiar face popped up right in front of hers.

Reba stepped back as Remi Daniels’ head of luscious curls filled her vision. “You do appear in interesting places, don’t you?”

“What’re you doing here?” She hadn’t anticipated seeing anyone she knew, especially not Remi.

Remi waved her camera. “Island Bites business.” She turned to look at Devon, who was still busy staring at the photos. “This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“Free drinks and food? Why not?” Reba kept her tone light. Devon would turn around and see Remi at any moment. Or maybe he wouldn’t even notice since he was in his element, caught up in the photos and paintings.

Either way, he wouldn’t want to have to explain why they were here together. Not that the reason was all that complicated.

“Maybe so. Explain to me how this duo came about.” Remi wasn’t going any damn place until she got a reasonable explanation.

Reba couldn’t fault her one bit. She would be wondering the same if she had run into Remi and Devon out somewhere. It just wouldn’t compute. Devon didn’t mingle with them, had always seemed so far removed from their little world. The age difference was a factor, especially since he gave off the vibe of being far older even when there were actually only a few years between them.

“First, tell me, did it hurt when you fell? This white jumpsuit is really something.” Remi was already so tall, but the jumpsuit was giving gazelle vibes, especially since she was rocking some heels with it.

Remi huffed out a little laugh. “Don’t try to flirt-distract me, ma’am, it won’t work. Now, what’s this all about? Since when you and Devon so good to be showing up places together?”