Page 30 of Speak of the Devil

“Kind of funny?” Holding up his fingers just an inch apart, he asks, “Just a little?”

Going for a half inch myself, I hold up my fingers. “Microscopically entertaining.”

It’s not like he stopped grinning, but it cracks his expression wide open. “I’ll take microscopic unless it’s referring to?—”

“Nope,” I say, stopping him with my hand between us before he finishes that sentence. “I’ve made a grave mistake by joking with you.”

He chuckles and lifts his sunglasses back to the top of his head. “What is it about sex that makes you so uncomfortable?”

“You sure do make a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I’ll assume you do the same.”

“See?” I swerve out my hand like a server’s tray. “There’s a prime example.”

If someone had asked me even a week ago if I would be hanging out with Shane Faris, a guy I had a crush on in high school, I wouldn’t have believed them.Yet here we are.

Though he embodies the rock star in the sexy bad boy way, he’s also just Shane from the bonfire having a good time. He sure is making it hard to remember we’re just friends at best or still acquaintances getting to know each other.

“You have me all figured out, Cat Farin.”

“I don’t think I’ve scratched the surface, Shane Faris.”

“Is scratching something you’re into?”

“Stop it. We’re not going there. Not ever.”

“Mmm.” I catch him with his eyes closed, shaking his head. “That’s too bad. Not ever is alongtime.” Peeking his eyes open, he asks, “You up for the challenge?”

Laying my head back on the cushion, I close my eyes, enjoying everything about this moment. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“We sure will.” Every word from his mouth feels like an insinuation of me ending up in his bed. No matter how deliciously naughty that idea is, I need to be careful. He’s a celebrity, and for him, notches on bedposts are a dime a dozen. I can be one of many, or I can safeguard my heart. But I have a strong feeling I can’t do both with him.

Dropping his feet to either side of the chair, he gives me that billion-dollar smile, looking happier than I’ve seen him, and asks, “Want to order dinner?”

“Absolutely.”

10

Shane

“I won’t beable to drive home if I have another glass.” She’s had one glass of wine and swings the wineglass out by the stem before bringing it back in to take the last sip.

Setting the bottle on the table, I say, “You could always stay.”No harm in trying.I’m lying to myself. There’s harm in trying with Cat. I can’t hurt her. I don’t want to, and if she stays, that will inevitably happen when I take off in the morning.

The fact that I want her to stay in my sanctuary makes me question if I’ve had one too many to drink myself. But I drink more than two beers when I’m out, so the effects shouldn’t be different at home. My bet is on her being the difference and not the alcohol consumption.

“I have such a long drive home, too,” she groans, sitting up. She’s taken ownership of that lounge chair since she arrived. She wasn’t lying earlier when she said she’d spend all her time out here if she had this to come home to.

“I can call a car to drive you home. You can return tomorrow to pick up your car.”

“You’ll be gone tomorrow. How would I get in? Climb the gate?” She tries to bury her curiosity in humor, but I’m on to her. There’s an attraction that she’s clearly denying. It’s written in how her eyes light up when they meet mine and linger on my body when she thinks I’m not looking.

“What if I gave you the code?” Testing the waters has never made me nervous until now.

She looks at me with disapproval written all over her face. “I’m worried about you, Shane.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

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