Devon blinked up at him, and offered him a smile. “I thought that was your voice. Nope, this is my weekend. Raven’s on. How are you?”
“Good. I found a good present for my mom, and now I’m looking for something for my niece and my sister.” He looked in the jewelry case in the back, and he thought that he would look at that. Although he’d already looked at both of the ones up front.
“Oh, that’s sweet. Isn’t your niece really young?”
“Yeah, but you know, I learned from my sister and mymother that they can never be too young for jewelry, even if it’s just to hold and wait for them to grow up enough to wear it, and then I’ll get her something like socks or a toy.” Laird was pretty good at buying things for various and sundry folks; he had a lot of extended family. So many, in fact, that at the holidays they drew lots to see who was going to get who a present.
Devon sort of chuckled. “None of the women in my life are particularly jewelry-heavy,” he said. “Like our receptionist at the birth center. Naomi. She’s more of a weird figurines of giraffes and zebras kind of lady. Everything in her house is black and white and orange.”
His eyebrows went up. “Wow. That’s a choice.”
Devon glanced up from his yarn again, grinning. “What, are you all chrome and black?”
“My place? Nah, right now it’s all stuff that comes with the rental.”
“Oh! Right. You haven’t been in town too long…” Devon’s cheeks went a delicious pink.
“Nope. My family is from here, and when she told me the fire department was going from volunteer to permanent, I signed on and came home.”
“My place is all very cottagecore. Warm jewel tones, deep colors, lots of pillows and blankets and yarn. Lots and lots of yarn. Yarn and books.”
Laird cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, I kind of know that. I took you in and put you to bed that day you were so tired, and it’s not like I snooped around or anything, but I couldn’t help see how pretty your place was. It’s really comfy.”
Devon’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Right, it was almost like I was drunk. I was so tired. Thank you for being so kind.”
“You didn’t have any trouble getting into work and getting your car at the coffee shop or anything?” Laird had worried about that, but Devon had never called even though he’d left his number on the refrigerator.
“Raven came and got me. He’s the other accoucheur at my birth center. But I really appreciate it, and I still have your number.” Devon said that last part in a rush, as if it was something that he wasn’t sure he should be saying.
God that was adorable. Laird just wanted to reach down and scoop him up and just kiss him — like a full-on balls-to-the-wall nom nom nom kissing. “Well, you know, you could use it to call me. We could go have lunch.”
“Lunch?” Devon glanced at him and gave him a tentative smile. “I like lunch a lot.”
“Me too. In fact, as soon as I was done here, I was going to go to David’s. I’m craving a calzone and I know everybody loves the half-and-half salad, but I really like the chopped salad. Also fried cheese. What’s your thought about fried cheese?”
“I think there’s nothing wrong with fried cheese. I think fried cheese is amazing. Wanna share some fried cheese?” Devon actually looked surprised at himself.
“I absolutely do. We can get some ranchandsome marinara to go with it.” Laird beamed. There was something about Devon that just drew him in. Something that was utterly beguiling that he hadn’t seen on first meeting him. But the more he got to know him, the better it got.
He understood why Devon was so good at his job. He had this amazing empathy and a smile that calmed you down even as it lifted a guy up.
Not to mention, he smelled good—really good. At the risk of sounding like a terrible alphahole, he thought Devon smelled a little bit like antiseptic, but that wasn’t exactly aturnoff for somebody who was an EMT. But underneath it was the smell of some sort of very masculine soap, and then the utterly unique scent of Devon himself.
One way or the other, the whole package was really wonderful, and Laird wanted to get to know Devon better, both physically and in a friendly way.
If he was perfectly honest, it was more than maybe.
“Do you want to help me sort yarn?” Devon gave him a sweet but somehow devious grin, and Laird folded himself down onto the floor, cross-legged, so that he could peer at what Devon was doing.
“We’re sorting by weight and type. I’m keeping the natural fibers.”
“So that’s wool and cotton.” His entire knowledge of fibers was flannel.
“Along with mohair which is wool. Alpaca, angora, anything labeled like that. If it says acrylic, polyester, etc., then that’s going to go to the church ladies.”
“Got it.” He could do that. That was completely understandable. He knew how to read labels, so he started helping sort things into piles based on what it said on the label.
They chatted easily, and wide-awake Devon was clever as hell, funny and charming. And that carried right over to them finding a cameo for his sister and a little silver bracelet for his niece. And then on to lunch.
