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“You’re good at getting to know people who are easy to miss. That’s what I mean.” I like that about Evie. She notices everyone. She’s interested in who they are. She wants to hear their stories.
“Thank you.” Her eyes hold mine and make me want to share more of my stories with her. I know they’ll be safe there.
“You’re welcome.” I don’t move.
“Is that what you came to tell me?”
“No.” I shake my head. I don’t want to move out of the light I feel in her gaze. “I’m glad I said it, but what I really came to say is…” I take a deep breath. “I like you too.”
Her smile grows. “You could have texted that instead of keeping me hanging all day, you know.”
I shake my head again. “I wanted to see your smile when I said it.”
We move closer to each other at the same time. Close enough that I can slide my arm around her waist. My thumb slips under the hem of her sweater, and I brush it against the bare skin of her back. Her breath catches, and she slips the fingers of her left hand between the buttons of my chef’s coat. She rubs her thumb over the closest button, and I think how easy it would be for her to undo it.
“This doesn’t feel slow, Adam.” Her words come out warm and breathless.
“I’m not going to kiss you.” My fingers curl around her hip, and I draw small circles on her back. With my other hand, I brush her hair off her shoulder, cup her neck, and run my thumb along her jawline.
Evie lifts her chin. “What are you going to do?”
She undoes the button she’s been playing with and moves closer. Her hand moves up my chest to the next button. It takes every ounce of willpower to keep my word. I don’t just want to kiss her. I want to clear everything off her kitchen table with one sweep of my arm and set her on top of it. I want her legs wrapped around me and my mouth pressed to hers. I want her to finish unbuttoning my coat and tear…
Aliens, blaster, cyborg.
I force science fiction into my brain to stop the flood of kissing scenes I’ve read from filling my brain and overflowing into my lips. I take a deep breath and a gentle step away from Evie. Her hand drops to her side, and I lower my hand from her face, letting it slide over her shoulder on its way down. But my other fingers still cup her waist. My thumb still burns with the spot of bare flesh I touch.
“I’m going to take you on a proper date,” I say. “I’m going to ask you all kinds of questions about what you like and what you don’t like. I’m going to pay for whatever we do and open every door for you.”
“That’s very old school.” Her smile tells me she’s okay with old school.
“That’s me going slow until you want more… if you want more.”Please want more.That table and Evie’s legs are still calling to me. “What do you think?”
She opens her mouth at the same time her phone rings. For a second she hesitates, but then she reaches into her back pocket. “This might be Georgia,” she says, and I wonder why that makes a difference now. Couldn’t Georgia, or anyone else, wait until after Evie tells me what she thinks?
But when she looks at her phone, her brow creases with surprise. Not the good kind. “It’s my dad.”
She looks between me and the phone. “I’m sorry. I hardly ever talk to him. He only calls if there’s something wrong.”
“Go ahead.” I step back to give her space.
“Hello?” Evie turns her back to me when she answers. I shift my weight back and forth, wondering if I should stay or go. The digital clock on her oven answers my question. It’s time for me to go to work.
“Do you need something?” she says into the phone. I tap her shoulder to tell her goodbye. She pushes mute on her phone then presses it back to her ear. “Those bags are yours,” she whispers and points to a couple of bags from Nick’s.
“I’m sorry,” she mouths as I pick them up. Then, in a tight voice, she says into her phone, “I want to help, but I’m not really sure what I can do, Dad. I’m not sure yet where I’m going to be over the next little while.”
My heart sinks.
Evie won’t be here forever.
No matter how slow we go, I’m going to get left again.
Chapter 31
Evie
I hate the look on Adam’s face when he goes. It’s this mix of disappointment, hurt, and acceptance. And there’s nothing I can do about it because I can’t tell my dad I’ll call him later. He’ll be hurt if I do. There are a few concessions I make to his efforts to parent me, even though I’m an adult and he gave up being my dad when he left me. I take his calls, and I try to see him once a year. That’s it. And I’m happy with our relationship like that.
