Chapter Fifteen
“LAVELLE,can you please make sure the extra case of red wine was delivered? I don’t want us running out on opening night.”
“Of course, Devin,” the maître d’ replied, making a note on his tablet. Then he grinned mischievously. “Gran sent some bois bande from home, if you want me to sprinkle it in the rum punch.”
Devin laughed and punched Lavelle lightly on the arm. When he learned Miss Jo’s youngest son was in the US and looking for work as a maître d’, Devin had been thrilled, telling Paul it was providence at work. He’d been working on the plans for opening his own restaurant from the moment he’d arrived in Charleston, and Lavelle was ecstatic to be offered the position at Aegean.
Lavelle went off to check on the wine, and Devin took a long look around the dining room, feeling justifiable pride in the simple but elegant decor—the tables draped in pristine white cloths, with handmade candles in holders made from seashells, and the walls decorated with paintings produced by local artists showing scenes of Charleston. The restaurant wasn’t huge, but he had a prime location on Market Street, where the pedestrian foot traffic was constant year-round due to the presence of Charleston’s famous Straw Market. The building was old and had been renovated at least a dozen times, but Devin liked the character of it, from the hardwood floors to the narrow staircase that led up to a rooftop deck. He’d opted to place the bar and a raw bar on the first floor, at street level, with the main dining room on the second floor. The roof was for additional seating, and he had plans to offer catered functions later, when the business had gotten established.
It had taken a year of hard work, but Devin had never been happier. Moving to Charleston had been easy enough, and Devin had saved enough money during his time on thePearlthat he could afford to rent an apartment within walking distance of Paul’s house in the historic district. He’d gotten a job at the Palmetto, a family-style restaurant just off the Battery, and had quickly moved up from sous chef to junior chef in short order. When the building on Market Street had gone up for sale, however, he knew it was exactly what he was looking for, so he bit the bullet and jumped in with both feet, and Paul encouraged him to do it.
The thought of Paul made Devin smile. They’d taken things slowly at first, though they’d spent as much time together as they could. Paul was still in therapy, but he’d also returned to the activities he’d enjoyed before his accident, and he and Devin had spent hours surfing, hiking, and boating out on the ocean in Paul’s small but luxurious private yacht.
Devin was happy to see Paul’s confidence growing enough to engage in such physical—and public—activities again, but he got unexpected satisfaction on the first day they went to the beach so Paul could teach him how to surf.
They had just come out of the water after Devin’s first, unsuccessful attempt to catch a wave without falling off his surfboard, both of them dripping wet and laughing. Paul set down his board and then smoothed a long tendril of dark hair back from Devin’s face. For a moment, he looked like he was about to kiss Devin, but the tender warmth in his expression faded, and his entire body stiffened as he watched something over Devin’s shoulder.
Devin glanced back to see a tall, buff blond man approaching them—or rather, approaching Paul, because he was staring at Paul with wide-eyed astonishment.
“Jack,” Paul said, coating the name with layers of ice.
Devin went still with shock. This was Paul’s ex, the man who had abandoned Paul to face his injury and recovery alone, who had made Paul feel rejected to the point that he had withdrawn from all the things he’d once enjoyed. A protective fury stronger than anything Devin had ever felt coursed through him, and he turned with a frown, keeping himself between Paul and his ex.
But Jack didn’t seem to notice. “Paul,” he said, still staring. “You’re looking well.”
And it was true. Thanks to spending more time outside, Paul was more tanned than he had been on the cruise, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts, which showed off his lean build and the sculpted arms he was gaining since he’d gone back to the gym.
Paul ignored the compliment and moved to stand beside Devin, sliding his arm around Devin’s waist. “This is Devin Walker,” he said. “My partner. As you can see, we’ve been surfing.”
Devin knew Paul well enough to pick up on how Paul wanted to play the encounter, so he relaxed into the embrace and pressed against Paul’s side. He schooled his features into a smile as he nuzzled Paul’s cheek. “You’ve been surfing. I’ve been falling,” he said lightly, then glanced at Jack, letting his expression become a smirk.
“It’s your first day,” Paul said, his features relaxing into a smile that was for Devin alone. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
Jack cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “I suppose I don’t need to ask how you’re doing.”
“Not really.” Paul turned a cool gaze on Jack. “As you can see, things are better than the last time you saw me. Much better,” he added, giving Devin a blatant squeeze.
Devin made a show of patting Paul’s ass. If Paul wanted to rub it in, he was more than willing to help. “I do try. Good thing I’m young and have a lot of stamina to keep up with you—both in bed and out of it.”
“Definitely,” Paul said, chuckling, and Devin could tell he was genuinely amused.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll be going,” Jack said. He paused, and there was a flash of wistfulness in his eyes. “Nice meeting you, Devin. It was good to see you, Paul.”
“Sure,” Paul said, and then he steered Devin back toward the water in a blatant dismissal of his ex.
Devin glanced back, keeping his hand on Paul’s ass in a possessive gesture. Sure enough, Jack was watching. “Well played,” Devin murmured. “He looks like you smacked him hard.”
“Just karma doing her good work,” Paul said, sliding both arms around Devin and kissing him lightly. “I’m not angry with him anymore. In fact, I’m grateful. If he hadn’t dumped me, I wouldn’t have been free when I met you, and I definitely traded up.”
Devin hugged Paul tightly. “And I got the man of my dreams,” he replied. “He looks like he’s got nothing.”
Running into Jack had shown Devin just how much Paul had healed from the emotional damage that had resulted from his accident. He felt good about his own part in helping the process, especially since Paul had access to the best therapists money could buy.
It had taken Devin some time to adjust to the knowledge that Paul was extremely wealthy. Devin had boggled at the value of Paul’s house, and even though it had been left to him by his grandparents and wasn’t as big as the house where Paul’s parents lived, visiting the house was overwhelming for Devin at first, given it was filled with heirloom antiques that wouldn’t have been out of place in a museum. He hadn’t been far off the mark when he said Paul could have bought the entire town of Buffalo Lick, but Paul wasn’t pretentious and lived far more simply than he could have. When Paul suggested living together, he’d even offered to move into a new place to make Devin more comfortable. Devin had melted over knowing Paul was willing to do that for him, but he’d gradually gotten used to the house, and now that he’d lived there for several months, he was glad to be close enough to the restaurant that he could walk home.
Paul was an investor in the Aegean, but Devin had insisted on it being a loan, and he intended to pay Paul back every dime. Paul said he wanted to use his connections to help the restaurant succeed, silencing Devin’s protests with the argument that as an investor, it was in Paul’s best interests to make sure the restaurant was a success. Devin hadn’t been able to come up with a logical argument against it, but he fully intended to make sure the restaurant earned a solid reputation on its own by having a unique menu and serving excellent food. Yet he had the feeling it was Paul’s influence, rather than the advertisements Devin had run, that had resulted in the restaurant being completely booked for its opening dinner service.
“Everything looks perfect.”
