Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger (5 page)

And now she couldn't shake off the images of an equally naked Devin that were foremost in her mind and shaking up her libido.

“I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure it's out of your way….”

“I don't mind. It's probably the least I can do.”

Decision time.
Continuing to argue with him over this would be juvenile, but there simply wasn't a graceful way to decline without sounding petty and petulant. Then there was the voice of her inner accountant who had calculated the fare for the trip home and was screaming to accept the ride if she wanted to make rent this month. Financial recklessness in order to make a stand? That was more than juvenile. It was stupid. And after the mess he'd put her in, he did at least owe her cab fare.

“Then I accept.” She forced herself to smile as Devin opened the studio door and held it for her. Kate waved as they left, and it was all Megan could do not to make a rude gesture in return.

She really was losing her grip on her sanity.

Thankfully, Devin was quiet on the long elevator ride down to the garage under the building. He pulled out his phone and began checking messages, so she did the same. None worth responding to, but it kept her hands and eyes occupied and made being trapped in a small box with Devin a little easier.

The parking garage was all but deserted, and the hum of fluorescent lights bouncing off the gray concrete walls seemed
like the setup for something in one of those bad horror movies Dev used to love to watch. It gave her the willies.

Devin must have noticed, because he called her on it.

She shrugged. “I just can't help but feel like that blonde girl in every horror movie right before the serial killer jumps out with a chain saw.”

That caused Dev to laugh, and the sound had a disturbing effect on her stomach. “The blonde girl who dies is always alone. And usually wearing substantially less than you are.”

The way Devin's eyes roamed over her as he spoke sent her mind back to earlier uncomfortable thoughts about states of nakedness. She tried to think of something witty to say, but her thoughts were a bit too scrambled. She settled for the nonwitty “Good point.”

When she heard the beep of Devin unlocking his car, she finally took notice of the car he was headed toward. Low-slung, sleek and red, the car was every teenage boy's fantasy. As he opened the door for her, she let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Nice car. Divorce does pay well, it seems.”

“That it does,” he answered, then closed the door on any further comment she might have made. She didn't know much about cars, but even she could appreciate the butter-soft leather seats and dashboard that resembled a cockpit. When Devin slid into his seat and brought the engine to life, she could feel the horsepower rumbling under her feet.

Devin braced his hand on the back of her seat as he backed out of the space, and she got an unwelcome reminder of why this was such a bad idea. He was only inches away, and even the tiniest movement of his hand would cause his fingers to brush against the nape of her
neck. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she fought back a shiver.

Of course Devin couldn't drive one of those huge SUVs, where a couple of feet would have separated them. Oh, no, the tiny sports car meant his arm brushed hers as he shifted gears, and every time she inhaled, the familiar scent of his aftershave tickled her nose. Once upon a time the scent had been comforting and calming. Not now. Tonight it jangled her nerves and made her palms sweat.

She had to get control of herself. “A red sports car is a cliché, don't you think?”

Devin shrugged. “I always wanted one. Don't you remember?”

She did, now that he mentioned it. A fancy car much like this one had always been Dev's wish when they played “One Day When We Are Rich.” They'd drink off-brand beer and pretend it was champagne while they planned the fabulous vacations they'd take and the house in the country they'd buy.

It all seemed a little silly in retrospect, but it brought a small smile to her face before a feeling of sadness and loss for the kids they were and the dreams they'd had settled on her shoulders.

The feeling passed, though, when she realized Devin had achieved part of their dreams without her. “But now I know that sports cars are overcompensation devices for men who are, ahem,
lacking.
”

Dev's smile was wicked in the half-light of the car, and she knew instantly she shouldn't have gone there. “I don't remember you complaining about my lack of anything. In fact, you seemed more than satisfied with my compensation.”

Heat rushed to her face, and she could feel her ears burning. She refused to take the bait, though, and chose instead
to move to the neutral topic of directions. Dev's eyebrow went up when she told him her address, but thankfully, he didn't press further.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, and Megan stared out the window at the familiar scenery to keep from trying to watch Devin's face out of the corner of her eye. It was ridiculous to be so uncomfortable. This was just Dev, for goodness' sake. At the same time, this was
Dev,
and that did funny things to her heart rate.

When he spoke, she jumped. “Everything else aside, you did well tonight. On the air, I mean.”

She turned in time to see the side of his mouth curve upward at the last sentence.
Small talk. Excellent idea.
“Thanks. It was both easier and more nerve-racking than I thought. If that's possible.”

“I understand. Not everyone does so well their first time.”

“You're very good at what you do—on the air, at least,” she qualified, and that got another smirk from Devin. “I can't say I agree with even half of what you said to your callers, but I'm impressed nonetheless.”

Devin nodded at the compliment, and the question that had been on her tongue all night couldn't be held back any longer. “What happened to you, Dev?”

He looked surprised. “Happened how?”

“You used to have all this passion for justice and now you're a divorce attorney.”

“Are you saying that there's no need for justice to be served in divorce proceedings?”

“Not at all. But I know you came to Chicago to do something bigger than argue alimony.”

“Things work out differently than we plan sometimes.” There was an undertone of bitterness to his words. She was familiar with the taste herself, so she couldn't blame
him. “I was asked by my boss to help with a divorce for a client. It wasn't our usual thing, but we were doing it as a personal favor for that client. It was supposed to be simple and low-key. Instead it exploded, spinning completely out of control and hitting all the papers.”

“That football player, right? I remember seeing your name tied up in that.”

He nodded. “The longer it dragged on, the more salacious it got—mistresses and illegitimate children and accusations of abuse and extortion. And that's only what made the papers. The stuff that didn't would curl your hair. The division of property was a nightmare. I spent the better part of two years sorting out that one divorce.” He snorted. “So much for simple and low-key. When the papers were finally signed and the dust settled, I had a line of folks with equally high-profile or messy divorces begging me to represent them.”

She turned sideways in the seat to face him. “You're trying to tell me this was an
accident?
”

“Specializing in divorce, yes.”

“And the show? The book?”

“Amazing opportunities I'd have been a fool to pass up.”

Her perspective shifted uncomfortably with this new information. “So it's purely business, then. Not personal,” she said partly to herself. “What is?”

There was no good way to say this, but she was in too far now to back down. “There's that one blogger who insists your entire career was launched by
our
marriage and divorce.”

That caused a laugh. “I had no idea you were so egotistical, Meggie.”

Trust Dev to jump to the worst conclusion. “It would hardly be something I'd be proud of. I'd hate to think…”

“That you'd broken my heart and left me bitter and cynical?” Devin's sarcasm was back, but she couldn't deny it was appropriate.

“You can't deny you're bitter and cynical about
something.
I'm just glad to hear it's not me.”

“If you'd witnessed what I'd witnessed in the last seven years, you'd be a cynic about marriage, as well.”

Was he kidding? “You do remember what I do for a living, right? I've seen some of the worst marriages in the universe—and some of the worst people, I might add. I'm not all pessimistic and angry at the world.”

“You always were an optimist.”

“And you were an idealist.”

“People change.”

So neither one of them was quite who they used to be. “You're right about that.”

“And you're certainly living proof of that.” Dev shifted gears and his arm brushed hers. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Megan tried to unobtrusively move over and put a little more space between them.

“I'm not sure I'm following you.”

“You've grown a pretty impressive backbone. And lost a lot of that shyness.” There was admiration in his tone, but no trace of sarcasm this time.

“Like I said earlier, I had to in order to do my job. Getting out on my own and moving to Albany was a huge wake-up call. I had to find my spine. And my voice. I couldn't hide behind you anymore.” She looked over in time to see Dev's jaw tighten slightly. “I don't mean that as any kind of insult to you. I was a different person then, and that wasn't your doing. It's just who we were. Who I was. But once we were over… In some ways, I owe you
for who I am today. I'm sorry if you see that as some kind of insult.”

The streetlights kept throwing Dev's face in and out of shadow, making it hard for her to read his face. Maybe that was a good thing.

“Well, Meggie, it's certainly worked out well for us both, then.” His voice was as tight as her stomach.

The statement might be true, but the truth didn't lessen that feeling in her stomach. Thankfully, the conversation was about to end, and she grabbed the moment. “Turn left here, and I'll be the first on the right.”

Devin expertly slid his flashy car into a space between two cars that added together probably wouldn't equal the value of one of his hubcaps. He shifted into Park and peered through the windows as she gathered her bag and unbuckled her seat belt.

“Thanks for the ride—”

His hand landed on her wrist. “
This
is where you live?”

She'd grown used to the shabby buildings, overgrown lawns and general dilapidation, but Devin's appalled tone brought back her own initial feeling about the neighborhood. “Yeah. Good n—”

The grip tightened. “I'm not sure it's safe for you to get out of the car.”

She really wasn't in the mood for this. “Your car's in more danger than I am. So you should probably get it out of here before…”

Dev wasn't listening. “That building looks like it should be condemned. Tell me it's nicer inside.”

She should, but the lie stalled on her tongue. “Where I live is none of your business.”

“I'm not letting you out of this car, Megan, until I…”

God, she hated that tone. It brought back old, anger-
inducing memories. As if to prove his point, Dev hit the button that locked her door. Irritation crawled over her skin. “What? You're going to kidnap me from my own front yard?”

“I'd probably be doing you a favor if I did. Jesus, Megan, why are you living like this? You have a job.”

“I have an internship,” she corrected, hating this entire conversation.

“And?”

She sighed. “You really didn't pay any attention at all to anything I ever said, did you?”

He didn't take the bait this time. Instead, his eyes bored into hers as he waited for an explanation.
I don't owe him one,
she reminded herself, but she found herself providing it anyway. “I have to do a two-year internship before I get my license. Internships are politically correct, modern forms of slavery—except that the slaver is doing me a favor by letting me work long hours for little or no pay. I'm lucky the Weiss Clinic pays enough for me to live
here.
”

“If you need money…”

“I'm paying my dues, the same as everyone else. In a couple more months I'll have my hours complete and I'll sit my exam. Then I'll be able to get a job that pays a living wage. Until then, I'm treating this as a character-building experience.”

“So your newfound backbone actually came from living in poverty?”

“It's hardly squalor.” She tried to sound upbeat. “In fact, it's not much worse than our first apartment.”

He made an odd choking noise. “Our first apartment was a hellhole.”

In retrospect, it had been exactly that. It just hadn't felt like it—unlike her current place. And she didn't need a
PhD in anything to tell her why her perception had been rose-colored back then.

Devin's grip on her arm tightened incrementally, bringing back those old feelings to tangle with the current ones. And that memory rush was simply too much to handle in the small, dark, cozy confines of Devin's car.

He was so close. Too close. She could feel the heat of his body warming the air around them, see the pulse in his neck. If she inhaled when he exhaled, they'd share the same breath. But she wasn't sure she could breathe.

And Dev seemed to realize that, too. His attention had moved from her neighborhood to her face and now seemed focused on her lips. Her heart skittered, skipping a couple of beats. Just another inch and she…
What the hell am I thinking?
She pulled back, putting as much distance between them as the car would allow, and Dev frowned.