Changing Lanes (The Lone Stars Book 3) (18 page)

Devon ate more slowly. He seemed to be savoring every single bite. True, the soup was savor–worthy, but the next course wasn’t likely to come out until he was done. Since she didn’t want to delay him any further with small talk, she glanced around the track.

Devon watched her every move. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no finish your soup. It’s really good.” Maybe if she imagined him eating faster he’d subconsciously get the point and shovel it in. She concentrated really hard, but he kept on with the dainty little bites.

She downed her second Arnold Palmer and a third was brought out. At this rate she’d be joining AARP before Devon finished his soup. Would it be rude to pull out her phone and play a game of solitaire?

Devon grinned. “Are you ready to kill me yet?”

“What?”

“My mom hates eating with me because I’m so slow. Why don’t you help me out?” He picked up her plate and set his down in front of her. “I’m not as hungry as you are.”

“Are you sure?” Laney didn’t wait for an answer but picked up her soupspoon. She finished that off in a matter of minutes.

After the waiter cleared the soup dishes, he brought out the salads and a basket of bread. She plowed through her salad and the entire basket of rolls before Devon had eaten half of his salad. The waiter brought out another basket of bread, and she ate that. Devon finally gave up on the salad and called for the waiter.

“Please bring the main course.” He wiped his mouth.

The waiter cleared the salad plates and returned with a huge tray with three plates. He set two in front of Laney and one in front of Devon.

“I took the liberty of ordering you two servings. I hope you don’t mind.” Devon grinned. “I bet you still eat them both before I finish.”

Laney dug in. The chateaubriand was so tender she used her fork to cut it. The carrots and potatoes surrounding the meat were glazed in a butter wine sauce and melted in her mouth. The potatoes were stuffed with breadcrumbs and butter. Hands down, it was the best food she’d ever had.

“You have a real gift. Ever think about competitive eating? I think you could dominate the sport.” Devon sipped his first Arnold Palmer.

“Eating is a sport? Wow, I feel like I just wasted the last few years of my life training for all of those triathlons when I could have been eating.” She wiped her mouth.

“Speaking of triathlons. After this football season is over, I’d like to train for one. Nothing like the Ironman, but maybe a mini.” He cut another dainty little bite of meat. “Maybe we could train together?”

“I’ll have to ask my team. We’re an all–girls team, but they like you so we may be able to work something out.” She grinned. “How do you feel about drag? We could dress you up like a girl, and then we’d still be all girl–ish.”

“Not going to happen. It’s too complicated being female. All that makeup and all those face creams and stuff. Not to mention the dozens of bottles of shampoo—why do y’all need all that stuff?” With his fork, he placed the little meat bite in his mouth and chewed.

Sight impaired quadriplegics didn’t take this long to eat. Devon was maybe a quarter of the way through his steak and she was starting on her second meal. She should feel bad, but … she didn’t. Devon liked that she was an eater, and he didn’t make her feel self–conscious about it at all, in fact, he encouraged it.

It dawned on her. He liked her for exactly who she was. He’d never suggested that she wear something different or that maybe she shouldn’t eat so much or that she talked too much about her work. With the exception of DJ, Devon was the only other man who liked everything about her—no qualifiers or limits. They could talk about anything and he never made her feel inadequate or uncomfortable.

She was happy. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but there it was. Devon made her happy. She looked forward to seeing him.

Chapter 13

Devon wiped his mouth with his napkin. It was crazy, but he enjoyed watching her eat. Laney could put the away food. Where it went, he couldn’t tell, but man, she could eat.

“You’re making me nervous.” She forked in a huge bite of meat.

“Sorry, it’s just so much fun to watch you eat. I keep wondering how you don’t weigh three hundred pounds.” He finished his chateaubriand and carrots but left the potatoes. He had to watch the carbs or he’d weigh three hundred pounds.

She finished the second chateaubriand and all the vegetables. After she moped up all of the sauce with the last piece of bread, she popped it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “That was delicious. And I don’t know how I eat so much. I do exercise a lot, but still. Maybe it’s because I don’t eat regularly like I should.”

She shrugged. “Food tastes good.”

“Is there anything you won’t eat?” Devon was taking more mental notes.

“I don’t like beets or sweets and meats together—like the new idea that all of the hamburger buns in Austin should be sweet.” She grimaced. “It’s like eating a couple of donuts with a hamburger patty in between. Or waffles with fried chicken all covered in maple syrup—yuck. Sweet and meat don’t go together.”

“So beets and sweet plus meat. That’s it. You’ll eat anything else.” He bet she got more than her money’s worth at a buffet.

“Well, I’m not that into sushi. It’s not that I don’t like the flavors, it’s more of a mouth–feel issue. Sushi is a little bit slimy and sometimes mushy, so I don’t like the way it feels in my mouth. But don’t get me wrong, I’ll still eat it if it’s the only thing around.” She sat back and crossed her legs.

“What’s your favorite food?” So he was interrogating her… he needed to know these things.

“I like meat—all kinds of meat.”

If he didn’t already have a thousand reasons to love her that would be one. The meat reminded him. “You said something about when you were in college and eating at places that didn’t make you pay if you could finish a huge plate of food because money was tight. Didn’t your father help you with college?”

And she’d said something about being a massage therapist to pay for medical school.

She refolded her napkin in her lap. “Since you’ve met my father, I don’t need to explain that he can be difficult. When I applied to colleges, I didn’t apply to his beloved Stanford, but instead to U.T. For him, that was bad enough, but then I went and majored in art.”

“So you’re an artist.” She had pursued her art … at least in the beginning. He wanted to high–five her, but then he’d have a lot to explain so he controlled the urge.

“At one time I’d thought of myself as an artist, but unfortunately, I’m not that great. I struggled and struggled and barely produced terrible art. I had the mechanics down, and my technique was flawless, but I didn’t have the heart of an artist. It took me a while to admit that I loved the idea of being an artist instead actually being one. I didn’t have the natural ability and passion that goes into the work. So one day I went to my advisor and changed my major to biology. In that, I found the passion I was missing.”

“So your father wouldn’t pay for art school?” He still couldn’t understand how her father wouldn’t let her major in whatever she wanted.

“Something like that. And after I changed my major to biology and he was thrilled, I already had my massage therapy license and didn’t want his money. When you take money from someone, there are always strings—the kind that choke you like a noose.” She sounded so matter–of–fact that it made him angry at the man who’d given her this jaded view of the world.

“Not everything comes with strings.” He didn’t want to argue with her, but it needed saying.

“With my father, they do.” One corner of her mouth turned up in a rueful smile. “When I declared my specialty to be pediatric oncology instead of orthopedics, he didn’t talk to me for six months.”

The fact that some part of her thought that was her fault made his hands fist. He wanted to punch her asshole of a father more than he wanted to take his next breath. Instead, he asked, “What made you choose pediatric oncology?”

“Residency. I did a rotation at Children’s Medical Center in Dallas. There was a real need for pediatric oncologists, and I love the challenge of fighting against nature.” She smiled to herself. “I’ve never really thought about it until now, but I do. Saving a life is a powerful thing.”

Her smile faded. “And losing one is a defeat that you never get used to or get over.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

Her teammates thought that she turned off her emotion to work with the sick, but they were wrong. She felt deeply and that’s what drove her to do better. He wondered if she knew that about herself.

“How about your mother?” Dutifully, Devon changed the subject. Where Laney was concerned, he had an insatiable appetite for knowledge. While he knew her mother was dead, he couldn’t remember the particulars.

“She was very important.” Laney said.

He waited for more, but that was it. “Back surgeon right?”

“Yes, according to the medical community, she was the best. I don’t really remember much about her other than she worked all of the time. She died in a car accident when I was thirteen. Drunk driver.” There was no sadness in her voice, because this was simply the way life was.

“And your father never remarried?”

“Honestly, I don’t think the thought ever entered his mind. He likes his life, and someone new would disturb that. He’s a creature of habit and trust me, no one would enjoy living with him.” Again with the matter–of–fact. Based on her words, there should be venom and hatred, but instead indifference.

“If you could do one thing differently, what would it be?” Devon was like a sponge soaking everything up.

“I’d have recognized my need to be an artist as a form of rebellion instead of a calling. And, I would have never waited around by the phone and computer for DJ to contact me. It sounds silly now, but when I look back, it seems like a pivotal point in my life. Innocence lost or something. It taught me to be guarded and more pragmatic about relationships. I didn’t have the normal high school experience in regards to boyfriends. I wasn’t allowed to date, and my father saw anything extracurricular as a waste of time. I studied a lot and I had friends, but they were also overachievers with demanding parents. Meeting DJ at camp—in a place not controlled by my father—was a luxury.”

“If DJ was sitting directly across from you right now, would you recognize him?” Holy giant hint Batman. Devon sat on the edge of his chair willing her to recognize him.

“I think so.” She cocked her head to the left. “Although people rarely look the same fourteen years later, especially adolescents who are now adults. The impractical part of me knows I will recognize him, but the practical side says that’s impossible.”

“What if he remembers you?” Devon’s heart was pounding.

“Then I would hope that he comes up to me, kisses me, and calls me EJ—that’s what he called me.” She grinned. “Not likely.”

“What if he does recognize you and you don’t recognize him, but he doesn’t tell you because he wants you to come to it on your own?” He might as well pull out the bracelet now and show it to her.

She shook her head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. If he felt or feels the same way about me that I do about him, he wouldn’t want to waste a minute not together.”

Oh crap … he hadn’t thought of that. This was bad. Should he tell her now and risk her anger? It didn’t seem like the best idea.

He’d been avoiding the subject long enough. It was time to get to it. “I leave for Seattle in the morning. I’ll be there for a few days, and then we come home after the game on Sunday.”

“Oh.” Laney let out a long breath. “I’m going to miss you.”

She sounded surprised by that.

“I’m going to miss you too.” It made him smile that she was surprised by her own admission.

“I’ve never been to a professional football game … or watched one on TV. Perhaps I’ll watch your game with Lara.” She wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“I’ll blow you a kiss.” He’d find a way to do it on national TV or die trying.

“Okay, it’s a date.” She winked. “Maybe you’d invite me to a home game sometime?”

“How about Sunday after next? We’re playing the Saints at home.” He would be so proud to have her in the stands rooting for him. Maybe she could sit with his mother, Summer, and Grace. They all sat in the stands instead of the skybox because they wanted to be closer to the field.

“I can’t wait.” She sat forward. “Do they have hot dog vendors who roam the stadium like at baseball games? Not to brag, but I am the U.T. Baseball Disch–Falk Field hot dog eating champion. I’m looking to expand my territory into professional sports.”

“Sadly, no roaming hot dog vendors, but for you, I’ll hire one.” This woman was perfect for him. Knowing that she would be watching him gave him an ego boost that just about made him invincible.

Over Laney’s right shoulder, a man in a black jumpsuit waved as he walked toward them. That must be the man Devon sweet–talked into giving them a Formula One driving lesson.

The dark–haired lanky man held out his hand for Devon to shake. “I’m Ricky Sussmann, and I’ll be your instructor. If you’re finished with dinner, let’s walk over to the garage and take a look at the cars. We need to go over the cars and some safety issues before we get behind the wheel.”

Devon rose, walked around the table to Laney, and pulled out her chair. “Y’all go ahead. I need to settle a few things here, and I’ll be right behind you.”

Not only did he need to pay the musicians and the waiter, he needed a moment to wrap his head around things.

Laney and Ricky made their way toward a large outbuilding with several sets of garage doors. Devon pulled two envelopes out of his breast pocket and handed one to the waiter, “The food and service were incredible as always.”

The waiter nodded and then walked behind the screen. He was a man of few words, Devon could appreciate that.

He turned to the short male violinist whose name was Bob and handed him the other envelope. “Thank you so much for coming out on such short notice. The music was perfect.”

“You’re welcome. It was our pleasure. Feel free to call Three Girls and a Guy Strings anytime.” He shook Devon’s hand.