Lazy Sundays (Lazy Days Book 1)

by K-lee Klein

  “Nothing. Just chill. I've got everything under control,” Devon told him.

  “But…no!” Scott cleared his throat, hands on his hips like his—oh God almighty—like his mother. “Besides, you always tell me I have no chill and I certainly haven't magically found some today.”

  Devon's snicker was unnecessary. “Help me carry this into the kitchen then?” He grabbed the majority of the parcels, leaving Scott with a single bag of lettuce. When he bent to straighten a misaligned pillow, despite being loaded down with stuff Devon beat him to it. “The place looks great,” Devon complimented before heading for the kitchen. Scott followed along with his measly package.

  Dinner was set for five o'clock, making Scott feel like a senior citizen, and Devon had promised appetizers before the main event. With two hours to spare and Devon doing prep, Scott occupied himself with emails and a book on financial economics he'd been trying to finish. His heart wasn't into it but Devon had shunned him from the kitchen when Scott questioned his decision to use fresh garlic instead of the jarred variety. He was positive Devon's mom would have glowed with pride at Devon's defense of his Sicilian heritage.

  Time slid slowly past but soon it was time for their guests to arrive. He met Deanna at the door, hustling her, Eddie, and an unknown girl out of the rain. Devon remained stowed away for the big reveal and Scott noticed the echo of sudden silence from the kitchen.

  “You look great, Scott,” Deanna commented, tugging him into an abridged hug. “Happy.”

  “You too,” Scott replied, taking his sister's coat. He turned to Eddie with a gentle smile. He adored his nephew. “Happy birthday, Eddie.”

  Eddie allowed a short embrace, his cheeks freshly pink. He spoke softly, “Thanks Uncle Scott.” Uncle Scott? Eddie hadn't called him that in years. It had been S-Man since he was five-years-old. When his nephew glanced at the young girl still standing at the door, Scott surmised the reason for Eddie's shy politeness. “Uncle Scott,” Eddie repeated. “This is my…friend Lisa. Mom said it was okay if she came for dinner.”

  Scott bit back a smirk. Friend? Eddie's nervousness told Scott she wasn't just a friend. The way he glanced at his young friend screamed teenage crush. “Hello Lisa. It's very nice to meet you. Please come in.” He raised a brow at Deanna who replied with a private wink.

  After settling his guests on the couch, Scott inquired about drinks then hurried into the kitchen. Devon stood statue-still in the corner, a mile-wide grin taking up most of his face. Scott invaded his personal space, pressing close to whisper, “I think Eddie has a girlfriend,” He controlled the squeal attempting to force its way into his words. “I may die from the cuteness.”

  “Seriously? I wanna see,“ Devon stage-whispered. Scott hushed him with a finger over his mouth. Of course, Devon licked it.

  “Gross,” Scott murmured right before Devon kissed him. He was very good at abusing his charm. “Are you ready for your big reveal?”

  Devon peeled Scott off him. “Five minutes,” he promised, peering into the oven, one hand holding Scott in place.

  “Perfect. I'll serve drinks then you can do your thing.”

  There was a hushed but intense conversation already in progress when he returned to the living room. “Everything all right in here?” He eyed Eddie whose gaze was pointed at the floor. It was Deanna who spoke up.

  “Eddie was wondering if you'd ordered his favorite takeout or something weird?”

  “Mom!” Eddie spat out. “I only meant that S-Man—Uncle Scott doesn't usually cook.”

  It was hard to keep a straight face. “What?” Scott feigned offense. “You don't like my Brussel sprouts casserole. I’m hurt.”

  Eddie stifled a groan while Lisa patted his arm. He looked to his mother then at Scott again. “I'm sure anything you make will be good.” The manners were out in full force. Scott wondered if that was Deanna’s doing or if Eddie was trying hard to impress Lisa.

  “Thank you, Eddie. I promise not to serve that tonight. Hopefully, you’ll like what I've cooked up.” Eddie sipped his soda, not making eye contact with anyone. His bottom lip was popped out in a true tell. Scott appreciated Devon’s constant attempt at making him cooler. “How's the wine, Dee?”

  Deanna raised her glass in a silent toast. “It's wonderful. Not your usual swill, bro.”

  Scott faked a gasp. “Now is that any way to talk to your host? What would Mother—”

  “Who's hungry?” Devon made his entrance in true DuCaine fashion—casual but boisterous and loud. “I heard there was a birthday boy in the house.”

  Eddie's mouth dropped open and had Lisa not saved his drink, Scott was sure he would’ve dumped it on the floor. He looked at Devon wide-eyed and maybe a little emotionally then at Scott. It was mere seconds before Scott had an armful of excited nephew.

  “Oh my... oh my god. You're—you brought—Devastation. Oh my god,” Eddie stammered still clutching Scott's arm.

  “Hey Eddie. Happy birthday, kid,” Devon said, all cool, calm, and collected. “Hope you don't mind if I crash your party.” Since Eddie looked too stunned to speak, Devon chose to bypass him and step to Deanna who had risen to her feet. “Hello. You must be Deanna. Devon DuCaine, ma’am. I've heard a lot about you.”

  “And I haven't heard enough,” Deanna teased. She held out her hand, but Devon snagged her a one-handed hug. Scott's sister mouthed, “Oh my god,” over her shoulder at Scott. It had to be a family thing.

  Devon offered the plate he was holding. “Rice ball?” he asked much to Scott's amusement. Deanna giggled like a little girl but grabbed one. “It’s my mom's special recipe all the way from Sicily.”

  “So,” Scott’s sister began, lips curled smugly, but with added eyelash fluttering. “You cook too?”

  “Behave, sis,” Scott hissed. Eddie was still wrapped around him and his grip was tight. “For heaven's sake. You met him before, Eddie.”

  “But not in your—he's right here in your house, S-Man. Like…here.” He'd dropped the formalities.

  Devon shrugged nonchalantly. “I'm here a lot. You like risotto? It's probably a weird appetizer but it's a tradition in my family.”

  “No. No. They're…they’re awesome,” Eddie stuttered, despite not actually tasting anything. He let go of Scott, hands twisted together in front of him. “I can't believe you're here. Thank you. Wow. Can I um…” He spread his arms hesitantly.

  “I think he wants to hug you,” Scott deciphered for Devon, none too quietly. Sue him for enjoying his nephew’s discomfort.

  Devon handed the plate to Scott with an amused expression. “Guess I'm a hit with the Weston men.” He mirrored Eddie's gesture but without hesitation. “Bring it in, birthday boy.”

  Eddie launched himself into Devon's arms and Devon laughed while he hugged Eddie with as much gusto as Eddie hugged him. After several minutes, Scott cleared his throat and Eddie jumped away, cheeks and eyes slightly damp. No one commented on that little tidbit.

  Thank you, S-Man. I can’t believe—best birthday present ever.”

  Scott touched his nephew's shoulder. “Wasn’t much to do with me. Devon loves the attention.”

  “Hey,” Devon objected but then chuckled. “I guess I do.” He turned his attention to Lisa. “Hello, I'm Devon.”

  Lisa shook his hand. “Lisa. I like your music.” She was a petite little thing; blonde and calm. Scott was a tad jealous of her chill.

  “Thank you. That's a rockin' skirt,” Devon said, still holding her hand. He gave Lisa a spin and she giggled breathlessly when he finally let her go. “Can never go wrong with pink leopard print if you ask me.” Scott knew Devon couldn’t help himself from being a big, damn flirt. Devon clapped his hands. “I've got pizza appetizers that you kids might like better in the kitchen. You guys get comfortable again and I'll be right back.”

  Devon side-stepped away and Scott's living room erupted with whispers and oh my gods. What had he gotten himself into?

  “You didn't tell me he was such a smoking hot
piece of beefcake.”

  “Deanna!”

  “Mom!”

  Deanna waved them off. “Oh chill out, you two,” she reprimanded. “He’s very sweet, Scott, but come on. Just damn.”

  Scott’s mind spun between offended and proud. “His photos are all over the internet,” he proclaimed.

  Popping another rice ball into her mouth, Deanna snickered. “He's all glammed-up in those. I assumed the real Devastation—”

  “Devon,” Scott corrected.

  “Sorry. I pictured the real Devon all greasy and chubby.”

  “Jeez, Mom. He performs without a shirt all the time.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’re being so inappropriate.”

  “What's inappropriate?” Devon asked, his timing impeccable. “I’m usually the one being inappropriate but generally when I’m in the room.” He placed a dish of tiny pizza bites on the coffee table then plopped himself on the floor in front of Scott's chair. He wiggled until Scott was almost spread eagled with Devon sprawled between his feet.

  He huffed and tapped his weird boyfriend on the head. “Do you want me to grab a chair from the kitchen?” Scott's living room was almost at capacity. Luckily, his kitchen doubled as a dining room so there wouldn't be a big space issue when they finally sat down to eat.

  “I'm comfy right here,” Devon answered. He wound his hands around Scott's calves, craning his neck to look smugly up at him. “So, fourteen, huh? I remember when I was your age. My friend Shaun and I—”

  “You mean Shadow?” Eddie interrupted.

  Devon nodded. “Yeah. He’s been my best bud for my whole life.”

  “I'm, um,” Eddie began, nervously. He concentrated on his clenched hands in his lap. “I'm, like, really sorry about his wife.”

  Scott had never been prouder of anyone than he was of his nephew in that moment. He gave Devon's shoulder a little squeeze. “That's a very nice thing to say, Eddie.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that,” Devon agreed. He stilled but suddenly tensed, using Scott's thighs to push off the floor. “Speaking of which. I have something for you.”

  Deanna looked to Scott with a question in her eyes, but he only shrugged. They could hear Devon working his way to Scott's bedroom. The man was a damn bull in a china shop. But he was back before things got awkward.

  “Sorry it’s not wrapped,” Devon called out before reappearing. Eddie's eyes were saucer-wide again when Devon walked-in. “Scott said you were learning acoustic in school but didn't have one of your own.”

  Scott feared Eddie was going to fall over when Devon set the guitar in his lap.

  “Oh, Devon,” Deanna gasped. “You didn't have to do that.”

  “It's from me and the guys. Signed and everything.” Devon draped himself over the back of Scott's chair, resting his chin on the top of Scott's head. He knew Deanna was going to bug him relentlessly about all the PDA. It was so worth it. “We're on hiatus right now but when we start-up again, you've got backstage passes, buddy. Mom too if she wants.” Scott could tell without looking that Devon winked at his sister.

  Deanna gave him a thumbs-up. “She definitely wants,” she joked with a grin. “I also have to say you've done something I never thought was possible.”

  Scott peered at her, inquisitively. “What's that?”

  “Made Eddie speechless.”

  Dinner went off with very few hitches and a few truths told. Apparently, Lisa was an older woman of fifteen, a fact that made Eddie blush and fidget like a virgin on his wedding night. Scott hoped that still applied to him, but he forced himself not to think about it. Devon had totally outdone himself and his pasta was delicious. Scott was eternally grateful when Devon proved to be the best at filling in any awkward pauses and silences.

  He was on his best behavior, language-wise, and his stories were age-appropriate. Eddie blew out the candles on his cake—baked by Devon's guardian angel, Maureen—with gusto and even cut and served it himself. Laughs were had, stories shared, and Scott's anxiety was nearly non-existent by the end of the night. Until…

  “Oh, I forgot to thank you for siccing Mother on me,” Deanna teased when Devon was helping her on with her coat. Scott searched his brain but came up empty as to what he'd done. “And Eddie, too, since you told her he wanted to talk to her.”

  Oops. Scott tried to backpedal. “I don't think I said exactly that.” He was lying through his teeth about his Valentine's conversation with their mother. “Can't believe she's hiring someone to plan her party.”

  Deanna nodded her agreement. “Better than us doing it, I suppose. Should be fun though.”

  Scott glared at her, aghast. “Fun? When have her events ever been fun?”

  His sister leaned-in to kiss his cheek then Devon's. She quirked an eyebrow. “Never, but this one will be different, right Scottie?” He hated when she called him that and he knew instantly that he was in trouble. “She's just so excited that you're bringing someone.”

  Scott choked on nothing. Devon patted his back but Scott pulled away. His thoughts swirled, heart beating far too fast against his ribs. “ I don't think—”

  “Your first plus-one,” Deanna interrupted, sweet as a spraying skunk. She was evil. “Can't wait.” She tweaked his cheek then was gone, leaving Scott gape-mouthed and Devon eying him with unrestrained curiosity.

  “Plus-one, huh?” Devon asked, leaning against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest and his whole demeanor simply smug; oh, so smug.

  “It's not what you think,” Scott choked out, hoping he sounded more casual than the hurricane going on inside him. “Bunch of snobby senior citizens and my mother is…well, she's—”

  “When is it?” Devon interrupted.

  “Second weekend in May,” Scott squeaked, avoiding Devon’s intense gaze. “On the island.”

  Devon stepped closer, one finger lifting Scott’s chin until they were eye-to-eye. “Were you planning on asking me?” All Scott could manage was a tiny nod. Devon smiled then bent in for a kiss. “It’s a date then. Can't wait.”

  Well, okay then.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The sun made a rare early-May appearance and had Devon been a more spiritual man, he might have taken that as a sign of heaven smiling down on him. And maybe he did, a little. He loved the ferry, and with the wind in his hair, the ocean at his feet, and his best guy tucked into his side, he didn’t care if it rained down buckets, because he was in his own heavenly bubble.

  Not that he’d ever say that to Scott.

  “Stop it,” Scott hissed, interrupting Devon’s rumination.

  He turned to his annoyed boyfriend, tightened the arm he had around Scott’s shoulders. “I didn’t say a word.” Maybe his smile was too wide or his eyes too filled with adoration, something Scott always razzed him about. Either way his poker-face must have failed him because Scott eyed him with suspicion.

  “Don’t try to snow me, DuCaine. You’ve got that…that, you know…” Scott trailed off with a smirk and shake of his head.

  Devon was happy to continue for him. “That what? That look of love? That look that means I could just eat you with spoon?”

  “Weirdo. I never understood that expression,” Scott admitted, frowning so his forehead wrinkled. Devon loved that look.

  But instead of commenting on it, he continued, “Do you mean that adoring expression that says I’d offer my boyfriend the last floating door in the ocean, so he didn’t lose his favourite necklace while I float away into the abyss?”

  “Oh, brother.”

  But Devon wasn’t finished, and Scott’s feigned annoyance only added fuel to the fire. “That look that means I’m in love, love, love, and no one can take that away from me. From us.” He paused for effect, but Scott simply sighed long-sufferingly. “That dopey expression that so accurately portrays how I’d throw myself to the sea to be eaten by sharks if it meant you wouldn’t drown,” he continued, adding a touch of drama to his tone while at the same time ignoring Scott’s reply.

 
; Scott chuckled and pressed their thighs together. “I suppose that could be viable. There are fourteen species of sharks in B.C. waters.”

  Devon rolled his eyes and thunked his forehead against the railing. “I’m trying to be romantic and wax poetically about our love and you give me Animal Planet facts?”

  “You brought up the sharks. Not me. I’m all facts, all the time, remember?” The fact he was trying to smother a grin gave him away though. His poker-face was worse than Devon’s. He tilted his head. “Would you like to know what I think?”

  “Always,” Devon replied. He’d convinced Scott to wear his leather jacket for perhaps selfish reasons. He loved the smell of Scott in leather and to prove it, he kissed his shoulder through the hide just because he could.

  Scott flinched away. “I think the sea air has gone to your brain.”

  Devon considered it for a moment, or he pretended to at least. “Naw,” he finally said. “I’m in love, my boyfriend is taking me on a trip—”

  Scott snorted a chuckle. “I wouldn’t exactly call this a trip.”

  “…and to meet his family. Besides, I haven’t been on this ferry in years and I love it. Thirty-whatever and it’s still feels like my first time.”

  “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

  “Did you just make a joke? I’m so impressed.”

  “Oh, go away,” Scott blurted, but shifted so he was closer to Devon.

  They huddled together, staring out at the water and enjoying the feeling of being in the middle of almost nothing. Devon often wondered what it would be like to be lost at sea. Would it be peaceful at first then terrifying, or maybe the other way around once he realized his fate was sealed with the ocean?

  “Dev?”

  “Sorry, did you say something?” Devon twisted toward Scott.

  Scott tucked Devon’s wind-blown hair behind his ears. “I asked why you don’t have a boat. You seem to like the water. Don’t rockstars have personal ferries? You know like all the planes and jets they have for their orgies?” He poked Devon in the cheek. “And don’t make a joke about me being your personal fairy or I’ll pop you in the nose.”