“Okay, fine, I’m sorry,” he said to Maxi. “Thanks for doing this. It looks pretty nice. Is that a props table?” He hadn’t noticed the other table at his first glance, set up with what looked like various items guests could use to take photos. That was definitely a feather boa on the top there.
“Yep, all Reba’s idea.” His mother smiled in Reba’s direction. “Isn’t it a lovely addition?”
He supposed. He wouldn’t be making use of it.
“Auntie Reba said she would bring over the stuff so I can use it too sometime. Cuz I’m not allowed here tonight.” Leah rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.
“We’ll have our own photo sesh. I’ll ask Auntie Remi to take our pics, so it’s all cool and professional, but still fun. No fussy adults around.”
“You’re an adult,” Devon pointed out.
“But I’m not fussy, so.”
“Yeah! Auntie Reba is cool!” Leah looked at Maxi. “Mummy, can I have hair like Auntie Reba for my photos?”
“Um…”
“Hair chalk is an option. It washes right out, but only if your mom says it’s okay,” Reba told Leah, who was already bouncing in her chair as if it was all a done deal.
Devon didn’t know how to feel about Reba bonding with Leah. His niece had obviously taken to her because she was a fun adult, but he couldn’t fathom what sort of influence she would have here. No one needed a mini Reba running around. One was enough to upend his carefully put-together life.
“We’ll see,” Maxi said, not committing to anything.
His mother looked at her watch. “Well, we’re pretty much all done. I just have to go prep the cutters and main dishes at home. We’ll come back before the start to set up everything in the kitchen. Keiran and Cherisse are coming in soon, too. Her mom is picking them up. You and Reba even have some time for another baking session before the party.”
“Well, so we do. Devon is making the dessert for tonight, so we better get on that, huh? I’ll keep him in check.” Reba grinned even wider. He worked extra hard not to show a single reaction that would make his mother look at them funny. “After we finish eating.”
His mother clapped her hands. “Excellent. Devon, come show me where to stash these boxes out of sight. We’ll need them when the time comes to pack up everything.”
He helped her take them into his office. It was the best place to put them.
“Reba is such a lovely young woman, isn’t she? She was so helpful with this,” his mother practically gushed.
“Hmm. That’s good,” he said noncommittally.
“She’s so good with Leah, too. I’m sure she’ll make a great mom someday, don’t you think?”
Devon paused, box in hand. He should have known this was why she wanted him alone. “Yes, I’m sure she would. If that’s something she wanted.” He had no clue. They’d never discussed it. Had no reason to.
“You and her seem to get along quite well. I’d say you two have even become friends, yeah?”
“Yes, we get on just fine. I don’t know about friends. She’s been helping me with the baking just as I told you.”
“I know, but you’re spending a lot of time together. That can make two people friendlier, you know. And she’s sweet. You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy her company, at least.”
He stacked the same size boxes together, refusing to be lured into this trap his mother was clearly setting. “Do we have to do this now?”
She leaned against the wall of his office, arms folded. He didn’t have any furniture in it yet. He really should get on that before the space became a default storage room.
“Yes. You two look interesting together. I didn’t think of this combination since you’re so different, but I see it now. Is there any interest there? Romantically, I mean.”
So they were getting right to it. “It’s a business relationship.”
“So you said, but are you sure there’s nothing there?”
There was a fire raging between them that made him want to touch her at the most inappropriate times, but he would not say that to his mother. “I’m…this is a working relationship. Just like I said.”
She raised her hands. “Okay, alright. Understood. But are you open to finding someone right now?”
“Maybe. Can we just focus on the task at hand?”
“Sure, honey.”
He didn’t know why he’d said maybe. He didn’t want her to take that as a sign for her to start throwing every single woman she could find his way. He didn’t need—or want—his mother’s help in that area.
He didn’t tend to rely on this idea of a gut feeling. He analysed a situation to determine possible outcomes, but right now, his stomach was churning. His mother continued smiling even though he had shot down her hopes about Reba. What was she up to?
He hoped he was wrong, and she wasn’t planning something. He just wanted to survive this damn party and figure out what the hell was going on with this odd feeling in his chest whenever he looked at Reba.