Don't Go Baking My Heart

Devon

He gaveher exactly what she wanted by watching her walk away, hips swaying in the tight red fabric.

He wasn’t the only one watching. Eyes had been sliding her way from the moment they arrived, different pockets of people trying to figure out who she was. Reba was basking in it all. You didn’t wear a dress like that and not expect attention.

She knew what she looked like with that red hair and dress. Knew the exact reaction she would get and was pleased about it all, none of which made sense to Devon. This level of attention wasn’t something he ever felt the need to grasp for himself, but Reba was practically glowing. Had she used those damn products from her photoshoot? He didn’t ask. The less he thought about that shoot, the better.

His main focus, besides trying to stay clear of Remi and her camera, was hoping there would be no unexpected moments with Reba and that dress. From the second he had opened his door and seen Reba on the other side, he had been constantly looking out for some sort of wardrobe malfunction.

Yes, that’s why he had been stealing glances of her. His vigilance mode was on, primed and ready to stop any accident from happening. The dress looked like it was held up by a prayer and wishful thinking. There were no straps. Devon wasn’t savvy enough to know about whatever type of contraption you would need to have on under a dress like that to ensure it stayed where it was supposed to.

Reba hadn’t tugged up the bodice once, and now that she had declared she didn’t have on a single thing under it, he wondered how the hell it was staying up. That was the only reason he was allowing himself to linger on the casually tossed statement. Not because his imagination was suddenly in overdrive, trying to force up an image of her out of that dress.

Was she glowing everywhere?

Fuck. He wasn’t going there.

There didn’t appear to be any wardrobe-related crisis on the horizon, yet he stood in the same spot, watching her over at the food table. She had already struck up a conversation with an older man, who looked positively hypnotised by her. The man wasn’t even putting any food on his plate at this point, just nodding at her, mouth slightly open, eyes flicking down occasionally.

She didn’t look like she needed rescuing, so he didn’t charge over there like some fool to tell that guy to hurry the fuck up and get his food and go.

But he sort of wanted to, which felt strange. Devon wouldn’t stand by if someone genuinely needed help, but he wasn’t this guy who was easily bothered by another man breathing near the woman he…had no claim on and absolutely didn’t want like that. This sudden bout of possessiveness was weird. Was he coming down with something? Or was he still mentally exhausted from earlier?

That made more sense than whatever emotion was compelling him to stroll over there.

Dealing with the current work situation and Reba all in the same day was bound to drive anyone to the brink. One of the architects on the team was throwing an entire fit because he and another co-worker were going through some relationship strife.

Workplace romance gone wrong was not an acceptable reason, in his opinion, to not be getting your shit done. He didn’t give a damn. Vic and whoever the hell he was allegedly having this drama with needed to get it together, or Devon was going to suggest he be replaced for this project.

He didn’t even know how to begin approaching Vic about this. It was awkward as hell, which was why Devon had not yet told him point-blank that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten tangled up with a colleague to begin with.

He felt a slight headache coming on at the thought. It truly was all so unnecessary and exhausting. He refocused on Reba again. She was still handling this guy, as expected, just like she seemed to handle everything with her sunshine cheer. Seriously, the man looked like he was ready to drop to one knee and beg Reba to marry him.

“How the hell does she do that?” he muttered. If he could siphon off some of her natural charm for himself, he would be a shoo-in for this promotion, and maybe he would know how to sort all this drama out without jeopardising their project.

Reba didn’t look like the type to kiss anyone’s ass, but she definitely knew how to straddle that line between making someone feel like the centre of her attention without it coming across as sucking up. Maybe he should let her teach him her ways.

A light touch on his shoulder forced him to look away, and as if he had summoned the demon himself with his thoughts of the potential promotion, he came face-to-face with one of the board members. The one who definitely liked him the least.

Solomon Spiers always wore this expression like everyone was beneath him, including Devon. He kept on dyeing his silver hair this weird shade of black that was so obviously too much; it made him look like he was desperately trying to cling to his youth. The young women he was rumoured to be constantly involved with were another bit of evidence towards that claim.

Devon didn’t have time to get lost in office gossip, and yet, he kept hearing others chatter about it during the few tea breaks he allowed himself at work. The kitchen was the gossipers’ hot spot, apparently. They were always huddled at a table talking in what they thought were hushed tones but were definitely not.

“Devon. What’re you doing here? Did Dax work his magic and find you a ticket?” Solomon asked. “I know he’ll move mountains for his golden boy.”

Devon mentally counted to five slowly. “Dax had nothing to do with this. I just got lucky, and a...friend had an extra ticket.”

Reba chose that precise moment to return, food in hand. Solomon’s eyebrow hiked up, his eyes scanning Reba from head to toe. The urge to jab an elbow into the man’s side so he would stop looking at Reba like that was strong. Devon kept his arm at his side.

“Well, don’t you just have lovely friends?” Solomon stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Reba shook his hand, and Solomon held on for far longer than was polite. Devon cleared his throat, but Solomon looked too enamoured to care. Reba easily extracted her hand. “Hi. You’re a colleague of Devon’s?”

“Somewhat. I’m on the board of Dax Designs.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Yes, cool indeed.” Solomon smiled right into Reba’s cleavage before actually looking at her face. “So how did you manage to get tickets for this event? Are you in the buildings business too? If so, prettiest builder I’ve ever seen.”