Page 28 of Chalk It Up

chapter 20

August

I am a rational man. Until I see Evie and Emmett hug. I brushed it off easily enough when she set her hand on his arm. It felt too close to the connection we had last night, but I let it go. This setting is entirely different and there’s no way she has the connection with Emmett that she has with me. I think her body would actually implode by having that much chemistry with two people because what we have is growing rapidly and is uncontainable. So I talk myself down and relax while I continue to bore holes in the back of Evie’s head with my eyes. After last night, I feel this preternatural instinct to claim her. But I know better than to hover. Protect from a distance.

But the second I see Emmett leaving her side, I’m striding across the gym, but Evie doesn’t notice. She’s looking down at her phone.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her while she pockets her phone.

“Oh yeah, just my rental company letting me know my yearly inspection is coming up.”

“No, is everything okay with Emmett? Did you guys fix everything and reschedule another date?” I know I’m fishing and I’m not even being subtle about it. I’m a potentially wounded deer and I need this woman to just shoot me and put me out of my misery if that’s the case.

“Oh. What? No. No, we didn’t reschedule.” She says it as a question but also with a slight, adorable little smirk like she knows exactly what I’m not asking. I love the little playfulness coming out of her. I’m fulfilled tending to her broken pieces, and I’m consumed by witnessing her radiance.

“Oh, well, okay. Yeah, great.” I say much more awkwardly than I’ve ever felt before. This woman rattles me and I love it.

“So I think we need to talk about last night.” She’s cutting right to the quick and I respect that boldness so much.

“Okay, definitely.” I say looking around the gym full of my employees and her co-workers not really loving this setting for this particular conversation, but I’ll do whatever she needs. Maybe her work is where she feels the safest and most confident. I can respect that.

She must notice my slight reluctance. “Well, not exactly right this second.” She chuckles at me and it’s the most glorious melody I’ve ever heard. “Addie asked if I plan to come over tonight to tutor her, so maybe sometime then?”

“That works perfectly. Any dinner requests?” I think my desire to feed this woman is definitely primal.

“I couldn’t possibly impose like that. I’m happy with whatever is easiest for you.”

“Nope, I won’t take that answer. What’s your favorite meal? I can do just about anything.” I might be trying to dictate the outcome of our conversation later by making sure she has a stomach full of her favorite meal, sue me.

“Fine.” She playfully snips at me. “My favorite meal is shrimp tacos.” She says it like some kind of challenge. She picked a weekly favorite of ours, just replacing our usual birria with shrimp.

“Your tacos will be ready at 5P.M.” I promise to her.

She looks down shyly again and I can’t tell if that’s a trained reflex from her abuse or just part of her personality to be humble in a situation where someone is serving her. “Okay, I’ll see you guys then.” And with that she steals one last look at me before spinning on her heel and walking away. I’m pretty sure I spy the sweetest little grin on her face, but I don’t let myself get my hopes up. Maybe she was just glad to finally be walking away, and with the promise of food later on.

The rest of the work day goes smoothly. I stuck around the school for a little to oversee and help with the set which genuinely was a treat because Evangeline brought her class in to see how it was looking which meant I got to see my two favorite girls without having to wait hours.

My employees let the kids help them with small, safe tasks and the kids were elated by “working construction.” A few of the boys and girls even walked away saying they wanted to be construction workers when they grow up, and that inflated my heart ten fold.

There’s so much satisfaction in manual labor and it’s always going to be needed. It felt like a spontaneous, hands-on career day, and I hope some of the kids left with a new appreciation for construction and some fun life skills.

While watching the kids was gratifying, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that my favorite part was being able to watch Evangeline interact with her class and steal a few looks in my direction. Of course, she looked over only to find that I was already staring at her the entire time, hoping to convey that there’s something happening deep in my marrow toward this woman.

I decided to stay the whole rest of the day at the school figuring it’ll help us get that further along so we can be done with it, and so Ms. Wilma doesn’t have to pick up Addie. Her and I can just head straight home and start getting everything ready for Evangeline.

I desperately wanted to go to Addie’s classroom and pick her up there, but I attempted to practice some self-control and stayed in the pick-up line. I fear that now that I’ve allowed myself to acknowledge my feelings for Evangeline, there’s no hope of stopping the flood. But I can channel and redirect like a reasonable adult with emotional regulation.

“Hi daddy! Did you stay at school all day? Is that why Ms. Wilma isn’t here?” Addie asks me while jumping into the SUV and buckling her seatbelt.

“I did, Ads! I want to make sure everything is perfect for your Christmas program. You’re working so hard on your lines so I figure I need to work hard on your set so we can both be proud of what we did.”

“Thank you, daddy. Is Ms. Jake going to help me with my lines tonight?” She asks almost sheepishly, like there’s something wrong.

“She is coming. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, I really need her to. I felt like I was doing a really good job, but now my lines feel really hard. I tried to do it by myself, but now I just don’t want to do it all.” It’s hard for me when she feels discouraged by her dyslexia, but it’s understandable. It’s a frustrating and overwhelming situation for a little kid to be in; to realize there’s a struggle but have no idea how to change it or work with it. It makes me even more thankful for the time Evangeline spends with her because she instills such confidence and hope in my girl. I could never thank her enough for that. Making a simple meal that she loves barely scratches the surface of my gratitude.

“She’s going to help you, Ads. Don’t stress too much.” She seems pacified with that thought. “Do you think she might want a dessert after dinner?” I divert the conversation in hopes of distracting her. She loves baking and we need a dessert so it’s a win all around.