He didn’t know why he’d let it happen. It was reckless and self-indulgent. But from that moment he’d brushed her shoulder in the dining room, kissing her had been all he could think about. Kissing her was still all he could think about.

She turned and spotted him standing there.

“All dry?” she called.

He moved to the screen door before answering, keeping his voice low, assuming Amelia must be asleep. “All dry,” he confirmed.

She looked him up and down. “Who needs a six-thousand-dollar suit, anyway?”

He jokingly spread his arms. “Is it me?”

“It’s you.” She paused. “Surprisingly.”

“Hey, I can hobnob with the common folk.” Not that he could remember having done it recently. In fact, his last hamburger was probably at summer camp when he was in grade school. He was more a rib-eye kind of guy.

“Sure.” She nodded sarcastically. “I bet you hobnob all the time.”

He didn’t answer, and instead slid open the screen door to join her.

“Would you like some wine?” she asked.

“Sounds great.”

She pointed with the spatula. “On the counter next to the fridge. Bring me a glass, would you?”

“You got it,” he answered easily, liking this laid-back side of Devin.

In the kitchen, after a few minutes of hunting for a bottle, Lucas realized she’d been referring to the cardboard box with the plastic spigot, sitting there on the kitchen counter. Wine in a box. Now that was a first.

He located a couple of stemmed glasses, then figured out how the spigot worked and filled them up.

He sniffed the bouquet, swirled it to check the legs and finally took an experimental sip of the deep burgundy liquid identified on the box as “Red Wine.” It was a bit sharp, but not horribly objectionable. Probably not a lot of time for the tannins to mellow prior to the boxing process.

He gave a shrug as he lifted both glasses and headed back to the deck. When in Rome.