Chapter Sixteen

Evie

“You need me to put the fear of God into him?” Jonah asked with a tone of protectiveness that had Evie’s heart taking a nosedive to her stomach. Here was someone who wasn’t even blood related doing something Camila’s own father had never done for her.

“Yes,” she said as the brake lights of Milo’s car disappeared into the night. She sighed. “Am I being too protective?”

Jonah walked up the steps to her porch, not stopping until his big body filled the frame of her doorway. He was dressed in flip-flops, cargo shorts with a million and one pockets, and a simple black T-shirt that clung to his biceps and a jaw-dropping chest she tried her best to ignore. Nothing even close to the kind of dress clothes her suitors at the shop had worn, yet he managed to light her south-of-the-border furnace. Then there was the full grocery bag he held in his arm, the neck of a wine bottle and a baguette sticking out the top.

“Do you feel like you’re being protective?” he asked.

She snorted. “What kind of therapy crap is that?”

He smiled and, oh boy, was she in trouble. “Crap my therapist says.”

For the first time that day, Evie actually laughed and, just like that, all the pent-up stress was replaced by something lighter. She pointed to the bag. “What’s that?”

“A thank-you for potty-gate.”

“I already said you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said. “You saved my ass with Way. Again. And I haven’t thanked you for having my back with the board, even though I did sic rats on your grandmother’s roses. Our families have been friends for over a decade, we’ve been neighbors for over a decade, and I don’t want fruit trees and ClickByte to come between our friendship. ”

“Well, this isn’t public, so not part of the deal. And friends is all it can be.”

He seemed to think that over and nodded. “Deal. Then how about you invite me in for a friendly dinner. Ryan is on babysitting duty, and I have a bottle of red and a bowl of my famous spaghetti.”

“Famous, huh?”

“Well, it’s famous for being the only thing I can really cook without burning it.”

“Jar or homemade sauce?”

“A little of both?”

She considered the ramifications of inviting him in, then remembered what they’d just agreed to—friends. And he was right, there was a lot of history between them, and it would be a travesty to see it all go to waste.

“I already have a salad in the fridge.”

“Talk about a perfect pairing.” There was that smile again that set her furnace ablaze. Which was a problem because south-of-the-border blazes didn’t fit into this new “just for show” pact.

“A drama-free dinner sounds nice,” she said and backed up so he could enter.

“Are you saying the neighbor-war is over?”

“I wouldn’t say over.” She led him to the kitchen. “But we can put the feud on standstill for one night.”

“Then I better make the night count.”

He swept past her into the kitchen, the scent of testosterone and yummy male lingering in his wake. It had been a long time since she’d had a man over for dinner. Long as in, the last man she had at her dinner table—and she wasn’t talking about Paul with the receding hairline who worked mall security, Stan the steam cleaner salesman, or any of the other strangers her mom randomly invited to dinner as Evie’s plus-one—had been Mateo.

Oh, Jonah had eaten at her table in the past, but there was always family around. Tonight, it was just them. The girls were on a date and her dad had retired to bed, leaving just Evie and the mysterious single dad next door. Because that’s what he was to her—a mystery. She knew him as a husband, a dad, even as a neighbor, but she’d never known him as only her friend.

She looked at the table and then at Jonah and suddenly it all felt so intimate. Too intimate. The kind of intimate that could derail her carefully laid plans.

“Why don’t you grab the wine opener and take a seat at the counter.”

He gave her a knowing grin. “You afraid I’m going to whip some candles and flowers out of the bag?”

She swallowed. “Are there candles in the bag?”

“Do you want there to be candles and roses?”

“Candles would be a strict violation of the rules. That’s just like you to break the rules week one.”

“Cool your panties, sunshine. No flowers.”

“Good. Store roses have never done it for me,” she said and brushed past him to grab the salad out of the fridge.

“What does do it for you? Asking for a friend.”

Thank God her head was stuck in the fridge because she did not want him to see her blush.

Ignoring his question, she asked, “Have you heard back from Kyle?”

“Radio silence. Which might be an answer.”

She spun around. “Don’t do that! Don’t undervalue yourself. And don’t think the worst. ”

“Working on it. And how about you? You sign up for the placement exam yet?”

“You remember that?”

“I do.” There was something in his eyes that might be called care, but Evie didn’t want to see it. She didn’t know how long it had been since someone had thought of her needs. Grabbing the dressing, she busied her hands with that instead.

“Working on it. I still have some time. I am still weighing the pros and cons of doing it now rather than postponing a year when the shop is in a better space.”

“In a year there will be another excuse and then you look up one day and three years have flown by and you’re thirty pounds heavier, your garden is overgrown, and you’re sporting sweats with a hole in the crotch.”

“That’s a visual I didn’t need. But point taken.”

“Sign up for the exam before you pro and con yourself out of it being your choice. If there was one takeaway from Amber, it is to value when you can make a choice and not have one made for you.”

Evie opened her mouth to say something soothing, but knew he was done with that topic. “So, how did the meeting go with Mrs. Gomez?”

The expression of appreciation he sent her way did funny things to her. And for a moment she forgot why he annoyed her so much. “Strange.”

“Strange how?” She found a container of crumbled blue cheese, tongs from the drawer, and gave the salad a quick stir.

“I went in to just give her advice on how to handle the claims and find a broker. She said she’d already met with bigger firms, and it didn’t feel right. She wanted to work with someone who understood what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

Evie went to bring the salad to the island and stopped short. Jonah had set their places with plates, dinnerware, and wineglasses. The steaming pasta was in a beautiful white bowl, which he’d brought from home, and he was uncorking the wine.

“I can set a table. I’m not completely inept.”

“I didn’t say that.”

His eyes sparkled with challenge. “Maybe not aloud, but you thought it.”

She neither confirmed nor denied his statement. Instead, she set the salad down and slid onto the barstool next to him. “Do you mind if I have my pinot grigio instead of the cab?”

“White wine with this sauce? That’s criminal. In fact, I don’t know if I could trust someone who drinks white with a clearly red-wine dish. Do you put ice in it, too?”

“No. And pinot is a neutral wine.”

“Unless you’re choosing white because I brought red.”

She snorted. “No. I really prefer white. Now, back to Mrs. Gomez. Did she hire you?”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“What’s to think about?”

“I don’t have a job, Evie. I don’t have a firm backing me. I can’t confidently say that I’d be the best guy to handle her money. I told her about the interview and we are going to revisit it when I’m employed.”

“Sounds like you are going to pro and con yourself out of a great way to dip your toes in the water.” She reached out and touched his hand. Sparks ignited but she didn’t move away. “You can only hide from the world for so long. Trust me, eventually you have to get back out there.”

“I will. I just want to do it right. I’m still interviewing and sending out resumes while I wait. It’s kind of like screaming into the Ether, but maybe I’ll get a few hits.” He took a sip of wine and swallowed. “How long did it take you after Mateo split?” he asked.

She waited until he finished filling her glass, then took a long sip. She hated talking about this. She was sure Jonah had received the lowdown from Amber at some point, but somehow the idea of telling him directly felt somewhat comforting.

He must have mistaken her silence for hesitation because he waved off the question. “You don’t have to tell me if it brings up bad feelings.”

“Not bad. Mad. At first, I was hurt. Then I was embarrassed. Nowadays, I fluctuate between exasperated and pissed.”

He chuckled. “How long were you together?”

“A little over a year. I found out I was pregnant six months into dating. He immediately proposed, then one night he drew me a bath and said he was going to go get some ice cream. He never came back. I called every hospital thinking he’d been in an accident, but then I got a notice that our bank account had been cleaned out. I was seven months pregnant.”

Jonah’s expression was priceless. “I’ve always had this gut reaction to punch your ex. Now I know why,” he said, and that protectiveness was back. Only, this time it was directed at her. And she wasn’t sure how that made her feel. “I can’t believe you even let him in your life after that.”

“I do it for Camila’s sake,” she admitted. “I hoped that just because he was a bad partner wouldn’t mean he couldn’t be a good dad. He’s failed on both fronts.”

“Amber told me he was a deadbeat, but I never knew how bad it was. It must have been hard to go through that all alone. How old were you?”

“Nineteen. But I had my family, who’ve been this amazing support system. Mateo might not be all that involved but Camila receives three times the love.” Not wanting to ruin the meal with any more Mateo talk, she asked, “Where do your parents live?”

“My dad died in Afghanistan. And my mom lives in Boulder. She’s been great, but she’s a lot older than your parents, so being a weekend grandma is about all she can handle. And I wouldn’t want her to take on more. She worked three jobs to keep the roof over our heads. She deserves to spend every moment of her retirement being retired.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Does single parenting get any easier?”

“It did after I came to the conclusion that, while I wanted to be perfect at everything, the perfect mom, the perfect employee, the perfect daughter, I was going to screw up on every front. As a single parent, perfection isn’t an option.”

“You seem like you’re holding it together pretty well.”

“It’s all a facade. You saw my room the other night. It was filled with clutter, bags of goodwill stuff, weeks and weeks of unopened mail and bills. I hide it in there before every board meeting so people think I have my shit together.”

“Sunshine, I couldn’t see anything past those Gnope panties.”

“Friends don’t comment on other friends’ panties.”

The air crackled. “Then why have you been staring at my lips?”

She jerked her head away. “You have a little sauce on the corner of your mouth.”

“Liar.”

He was so spot on she was surprised her pants didn’t burst into flames.