"Suit yourself."
"I always do," she retorted, unwilling to let him have the last word.
He got it anyway. Before he stepped across the threshold, his hand shot out and curved around the nape of her neck. He hauled her mouth up to his for a scorching kiss. "'Night, Dovey," he whispered before releasing her and ambling down the sidewalk.
* * *
Chapter 13
She was still miffed when he greeted her at his front door at noon the following day. He had known the goodnight kiss would make her mad. That's why he'd done it. He took mischievous pleasure in provoking her simply because she was so easily and delightfully provoked. He was challenged to see how many different ways he could do it.
Besides, he had wanted to kiss her. He wanted to now too. But that didn't seem a very good idea, not when she took care not even to let her clothes brush against him as she entered the hallway of his home. She was dressed for business in a pale yellow linen suit with a straight skirt, the hemline just at her knees, and a tailored jacket decorated with a silver lapel pin. Her matching silver earrings showed up well in her ears, because she had pulled her hair back into a no-nonsense bun. Her expression was just shy of combative.
"Hello," she said coolly.
"Hi." He gave her the cocky grin he knew she found aggravating.
"You failed to mention that you lived outside the city limits in the country."
"I offered to give directions, remember? You wouldn't let me. Did you get lost?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Yeah, you're here, looking more like the preacher's wife come calling than an overnight alibi. Who's gonna believe I tumbled you?" The devil in him was kicking up his heels, goading him to say things he knew damn well would rub her the wrong way. But he felt he was justified in being ornery. He didn't particularly like her attitude either.
"What did you expect me to wear? A negligee?"
"Lucky, has our guest arrived?"
Laurie Tyler entered the hallway through an arched opening. "Hello," she said pleasantly, extending her hand to Devon. "I'm Laurie Tyler, Lucky's mother."
"I'm Devon Haines."
"Come in, Ms. Haines. Everybody's out in the kitchen. I don't know why we have so many extra rooms in this house. I think we'd have been better off just building one enormous kitchen. Seems like that's where everybody always ends up."
"Are the investigators here already?" Devon asked with uncertainty, glancing over her shoulder at the cars parked in the semicircular driveway.
"Not yet. Those belong to family," Laurie told her.
"Curious onlookers," Lucky said sardonically. "You've drawn a crowd."
He received a reproving look from his mother before she took Devon by the forearm and led the way. "Lunch is a casual meal around here. Chicken salad is on the menu today. I thought that sounded good since the weather is so muggy. You're hungry, I hope?"
"Well, I, yes, I suppose. I hadn't counted on eating lunch."
Lucky observed the two women as he followed them through the formal dining room, which was reserved for holidays, birthdays, and special parties. His mother's unqualified friendliness had flustered Devon. Laurie often had that effect on strangers. Until given grounds to change her mind, she was always accepting of people, and had a knack for putting them at ease.
She propelled Devon into the kitchen and announced her to the rest as though she were a new preacher's wife come calling. "Everybody, this is Devon Haines, who has so unselfishly agreed to help Lucky out of this trouble he's in. Devon, that's Tanya, my daughter-in-law; Sage, my youngest child; and Chase, Lucky's older brother."
They regarded her with unabashed curiosity, but murmured polite hellos, knowing that Laurie would tolerate nothing less.
"Sage, scoot your chair over and let Devon sit there between you and Lucky. Devon, would you like iced tea or lemonade?"
"Uh, iced tea, please."
"Fine, I'll get it. Sugar and lemon are on the table. Lucky, hand her that plate out of the refrigerator. And you can start on your lunch now that she's here." As she passed the glass of iced tea to Devon she added, "He was too nervous to eat before you arrived."
"I wasn't nervous," he remarked crossly. He set the pre-filled plates on the table and threw his leg over the seat of his chair, straddling it. "I was afraid she wouldn't show."