His Loving Eyes [18+]

53

Devon and I decide to head out for lunch, the crisp winter breeze making me pull my scarf a little tighter around my neck. As we walk, I feel the warm touch of his lips brushing against the top of my head.

"Mrs. Kenton makes really good pizza," I tell him, trying to suppress a smile at the memory of my childhood escapades.

He furrows his eyebrows, looking adorably puzzled. "There's a restaurant called Mrs. Kenton?"

I shake my head, chuckling. "No, she's an old lady who lives around here and runs a small business out of her home. I used to go there almost every day after school."

Devon stands, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, his gaze fixed on something distant. I wrap my hand around his forearm, leading the way, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere.

"Devon, is there something happening with work?" I ask gently, hoping to break the tension I can sense building.

He stops walking and sighs deeply. "I'm having a really good day, and so are you. I don't want to talk about it and ruin our day."

"Talk to me. What's wrong? It won't ruin our day," I urge him, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

His hands grip my shoulders, his touch both comforting and firm. "It's Heartstrong. He suffered a massive stroke and was declared brain dead this morning."

I gasp, shocked by the news. Heartstrong, the man who manipulated me into giving him a sexual favor, had forced himself on me in a way that left emotional scars. I don't know how to feel about the news—part relief, part confusion. It must be difficult for Devon, though; he has known this man for years.

Devon's fingers tilt my chin up, making me look into his eyes. "I'm sorry. This must be difficult for you," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "He might've been my mentor once. He was a good teacher but a shitty person. I know we shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but..."

I murmur under my breath, "He got what he deserved."

The moment those words leave my mouth, my hands fly up to cover my lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," I quickly apologize, eyes wide with regret.

Devon, however, smiles faintly and kisses my forehead. "No, you are absolutely right. He got what he deserved."

"Jack is handling the urgent matters. We need to appoint a new board member, and my vote is crucial in the decision. I'll be tied up with calls and emails for the next few days."

"It's alright," I reassure him, squeezing his hand. "Let's go see this Mrs. Kenton."

As we stroll through the quaint neighborhood, I point out the small house with a cheerful painted sign that reads "Mrs. Kenton's Kitchen." The vivid flowers in the garden add a touch of whimsy to the place.

"Maybe we should ask her for dessert as well. She makes the best banana pudding," I say, my mouth watering at the memory.

"I had other plans for dessert," Devon says, his voice dropping a seductive octave as he follows close behind me.