Chapter Nine––––––––
Stormy had been avoiding Devon’s invitation to move into his room and his bed. Although certain of her feelings for him, she didn’t trust his. It seemed too fast, too perfect, too pat. She was waiting for the other shoe to fall. And she didn’t have long to wait.
The young nutritionist did her shopping and cooking in the morning. She prepared lunch and dinner meals for Devon and Bullhorn and delivered Bull’s meals at twelve-thirty. Devon ate lunch at one.
“Come on, eat with me,” he offered, sitting down to an attractive plate of low-fat tuna salad and vegetables.
Before she could reply, the doorbell rang. She answered it. A man thrust a huge package into her hands. She signed for it and carried it into the kitchen.
“For you,” she said, as she placed it on the table
