Excitement cascaded down her spine.
While Devon considered his response, she wandered about, lighting candles and flipping the switch on the gas fireplace. Then she dimmed the entryway sconce so a soft golden glow and flickering flames illuminated the room. The drapes were open and the bay was sprinkled with lights from the boats in the marina and beyond. A view Fallon loved.
She went back into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of champagne from the fridge. All the while, Devon’s attention was centered on her.
Handing over the bottle for him to uncork, she said, “A welcome home gift from the Presleys to me. Cristal, no less. Let’s share it.”
She had no doubt there was a mischievous—suggestive—glint in her eyes.
Taking the bubbly from her, he set it on the island and asked, “What exactly have you heard about me and Morgan?”
“Just what I said. That you two are also into the ménage scene. Open the champagne, Dev.”
He stared at her a few seconds more, heat rimming his nearly translucent irises that were striking against his tanned skin and complemented his ruggedly handsome face. Like Morgan, he had a powerful presence and a solid build. Neither man had skimped on the workouts following their days as gridiron heroes, that was for sure.
Eventually, Devon tore his gaze from her and did as she’d asked. Though he said, “I have a ten o’clock flight.”
“Take a later one.”
His gaze flashed to her again. And slowly roved her body from head to toe. Back up, lingering just long enough on her breasts to make her nipples pebble.
With a roguish grin, he asked, “Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?”
Fallon’s stomach fluttered. Not just over the term of endearment he used. Devon had been calling her “sweetheart” since he’d turned twenty or so. She was accustomed to it. Though she still got a little thrill over how it rolled easily off his tongue. And the fact that she never heard him say it to anyone else.
But the butterflies were more aptly related to the way he checked her out. Really seeing her. No longer as a little sister type but as someone who aroused him. There was no missing the lust intensifying his chiseled-to-perfection features.
The man was devastatingly handsome. And this particular one was most definitely not immune to her.
He was also so damn tempting that Fallon couldn’t help but try to entice him further.
She said, “You really couldn’t grasp the changes in me earlier. I could see it made your mind whirl—as much as it does Morgan’s. Yet you’re capable of making the leap, right? Whereas he’s . . .”
“Morgan doesn’t want any issues with you being our employee.”
“Oh. Well. If that’s the case . . . I quit.”
Devon frowned.
“Kidding,” she said with another soft laugh. “I can’t afford to quit just yet. Operational costs.” She inclined her head toward the boxes. “I pick up a couple of extra shifts a week to cover expenses. But that’s all crazy budgeting I don’t want to get into. Let’s drink.”
Devon gave a slight shake of his head. “That could be inviting some trouble into your life.”
She closed the gap between them and murmured, “I could use a little trouble in my life.”
Their eyes locked. Devon’s blazed. She suspected hers did as well.
He said, “I like this new Fallon. Still feisty as ever, but clearly willing to walk on the wild side.”
Her verve kicked into high gear. “I’ve done a lot of growing up, Dev. Don’t doubt it for a second.”
His gaze didn’t waver as he deftly whipped off the foil wrapping on the neck of the champagne bottle and removed the cage. His hand closed around the cork and he popped it.
Fallon didn’t know for sure if that meant he intended to stay a while, or just have a quick cocktail with her.
It took some effort for her to break the eye contact and retrieve two flutes from a cupboard. As she did, she contemplated how she could persuade Devon to stick around Bayfront for more than a day.
She held the glasses as he poured. Then she gave him an inviting smile before leaving the kitchen, crossing to the sliding glass doors, and unlocking them. She pushed one open and stepped onto the balcony. A gentle breeze blew in from the ocean, smelling faintly of salt and tinged with humidity. All very sultry and provocative. As was her mood.
Devon joined her at the curved wrought-iron railing. He tipped his glass toward hers and the rims clinked.
He sipped before saying, “I get that you’re all grown up, Fallon. Forgive the adjustment period.”
“I know it’s a little awkward to—”
“No, not awkward,” he interjected. “Just . . . unexpected. Not in a bad way, in any respect. It’s just that you were perky and cute before and now . . .”
“I wasn’t cute, Dev,” she said.
“Yeah, you were,” he assured her with conviction in his tone. “Now you’re stunning. And it isn’t just me and Morgan who’ve needed to get used to the change. You want us to think of you as our lifelong friend . . . but you also want us to see you as the striking woman you’ve become.”
She took a bigger sip this time. The effervescence of the Cristal down her throat was an stimulating complement to the sizzle deep in her core.
Devon continued. “I won’t lie, sweetheart. You take my breath away. And I have some seriously wicked fantasies brewing in my head right now.”
Fallon’s pulse jumped. Eyeing him over the top of her flute, she daringly said, “I’ve had plenty of my own fantasies. About you . . .And Morgan.”
“Whatever you heard about us,” he told her with a suddenly tense look, “that’s in the past. We don’t share women anymore.”
“Too bad.” Fallon polished off her champagne, then said, “Because I have to confess, Dev, the thought of it really turns me on.”
His groan was low and sexy. “Fallon . . . Don’t go getting any ideas about—”
“I have plenty of ideas.” She smiled, then strolled back into the condo for a refill. Devon joined her. Splashing more bubbly into his glass, she added, “I won’t lie, either, Dev. I might never have come across as being attracted to you or Morgan, but I always have been. And this”—she swept a hand in front of her from her neck downward—“wasn’t a whim or an overnight metamorphosis. I worked my ass off. Literally. In hopes you’d notice.”
Devon pulled in a sharp slice of air. “Morgan has a valid case against me and you hooking up.”
She downed a little more liquid courage, set her glass on the island, and leaned in close to him. “Straight up, Dev. Do you want me?”
He deposited his glass next to hers. “Fallon, you test my restraint and my ability to control some very natural, primal urges. Make no mistake.” His gaze slid over her again. “Even in jeans and a sweater. I’m thoroughly captivated.”
She decided it was time to take the bull by the horns. For better or for worse.
Fallon pulled the band from her ponytail and shook out her long auburn hair. Then she fisted the hem of her sweater and lifted the material up and over her head.
Devon’s jaw clenched as his gaze homed in on her breasts, tucked into a silver lace-and-satin bra. Plumped over the scalloped edge, to be exact.
She toed off her boat shoes and then unbuttoned her jeans. Slid the zipper along its track.
“Fallon.” His voice was tight, his muscles bunched.
She shoved the denim down her legs. She wasn’t wearing socks, so she stood before him in her lingerie and challenged, “Dev, if you’re interested in this, now’s your time to make a move.”