Chapter Seventeen

Evie

“Nothing about that is okay,” Camila said loud enough for everyone in line at the market to hear, while holding her phone in Moira’s face. Evie ducked her head and pushed the cart forward to distance herself from the conversation and hopefully go unscathed.

Moira rested her hand on Camila’s and lowered them. “Don’t worry, honey, he’s all yours.”

“Gross,” Camila said with enough teen angst to fuel a heat-seeking missile. “I am not going out with a guy you matched with.”

Evie came to a stop and whipped her head around to look at her daughter. “Hold up. You two are matching with the same guy now?” Camila picked up a candy bar and pretended to study the ingredients. “How old is he?”

Silence. Even though her daughter’s back was to her, Evie knew she was rolling her eyes.

“Camila?” she pressed.

“Twenty-one.”

This whole thing was getting out of hand. “You let a twenty-one-year-old slide into your DMs?”

“Mom, no one says that anymore.”

“Well, no one in this house is going out with a twenty-one-year-old. He is age inappropriate for both of you.” She glared at her mom. “New rule, no younger than me for you. And no one older than Ryan for you,” she said to Camila.

“You always were such a party pooper,” Moira said.

Evie dumped one—make that three—chocolate bars into her cart and wondered if she had enough time to run and grab another bottle of wine. Scratch that: Tequila. “I had to be, with two free spirits as parents.”

“Your spirit could be free, too, if you’d just get laid,” Moira said and Mrs. Lichfield, who was walking past the checkout line, shot them a scathing look and Evie felt her face heat. She gave the woman an apologetic smile. It didn’t help. “Which is why I invited Susan’s son to dinner on Friday. You remember Susan from my yoga class. Her son is divorced, handsome, and an entrepreneur.”

He was also balding, with a beer gut, and put sugar and cinnamon in Turkish coffee. Evie didn’t trust someone who doctored up a nine-dollar, exquisite cup of paradise. That would be like adding ice cubes to a high-end pinot grigio. As for him being an entrepreneur?

“He owns his own hot dog stand,” Evie said, but Moira just waved a dismissive hand. Oh my God. This dinner was going to happen, no matter what Evie said. The only thing that would get her out of another awkward blind date was—

“Plus, I’m dating someone.”

Moira blinked. Twice. Then dramatically flattened her hand to her chest. “I knew You’ve Got Male would work if you’d just let it.” She pulled Evie into one of those swinging-back-and-forth kind of hugs. “And you’re working it. I am so, so proud.”

Evie looked at the cashier, who was shamelessly eavesdropping. She lowered her voice. “Actually, it’s Jonah.”

Camila promptly dropped the candy bar, her bored attitude morphing into horror. “You’re dating Ryan’s dad?”

Evie lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, then immediately dropped it. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“You hate each other,” Camila said.

“Love and hate are closely related,” Moira said. “And it makes for some great sex.”

“Gross,” Camila repeated at the same time Evie choked out, “No one said love. We’ve only had one date.”

Wow, look at the lies falling off her lips. Granted, they did have dinner and wine and if level heads hadn’t prevailed, they might have even shared a kiss. Something that wouldn’t happen again, since that was against their ground rules.

Moira clasped her hands. “It was the night we had that double date. Wasn’t it? I knew something happened.”

“How did you know?” Evie asked casually, as if talking about a date with Jonah was the most natural thing in the world.

“Lenard said he cooked you dinner.”

“Who said it wasn’t just a neighborly thank-you for helping out with Waverly?”

“Because I saw the nice wineglasses in the sink.”

“Wineglass selection says a lot,” the cashier said. “Does this mean You’ve Got Male is off the market?”

“Yes,” Evie said loud enough for everyone in line to hear. “I am.” She handed over her credit card and started packing her own groceries. “Before you start streaming this, I want everyone to know that we’re just seeing where this can go.”

“Oh honey,” an older woman with a crop of curly gray hair said from behind—who had her camera aimed at Evie. “There’s already a poll going on over how fast you’re going to have sex. I put a hundred on a week tops.”

It was Evie’s turn to be horrified. Strangers thought that was okay to tell someone in the checkout line?!

“Can we stop talking about this?” Camila asked.

Moira put her arm around Camila’s shoulder. “You should be happy for your mother.”

“Why? Because she’s dating my best friend’s dad? Talk about awkward. I can’t believe you didn’t ask me how I felt about it first.”

“You didn’t ask me how I felt about you dating a nineteen-year-old first. You just invited him over.”

“I know him from school. Plus, this is different.”

“How?”

“Because it’s Ryan’s dad and now…” Camila looked at the camera aimed at them and threw her hands in the air. “Never mind. I’ll be in the car.”

“Honey,” Evie began but Camila was already storming off.

Evie let out a sigh and went back to bagging her groceries. This was not how she’d wanted to tell her family. Especially Camila. Evie never imagined it would be easy, but she’d hoped it would be a little blip, not a blow-up in a public place. She’d handled this all wrong. But it was too late to change direction now. She was committed to the farce, and it would all be over in just a few weeks. Then life could get back to normal.

“Don’t mind her,” Moira said. “She’s just upset because she’s hormonally unstable. It will pass.”

Evie wasn’t so sure about that. She knew that her daughter had a massive crush on Ryan but was too shy to tell him. It was obvious to anyone who saw them that there were feelings. It was part of the reason Evie wasn’t as worried about Camila’s sudden boy-crazy phase. She knew the string of dates was her passive-aggressive way to make Ryan jealous.

Would Camila ever tell Ryan her true feelings now that their parents had “dated”? How badly had Evie’s selfish need for privacy and space impacted her daughter’s life? And their mother-daughter relationship?

“So, tell me about you and Jonah,” Moira asked, and Evie was hyperaware that everyone around them had gone silent as if waiting for her answer.

“There isn’t much to tell. There’s me. There’s Jonah. There was a single date. End of story.”

“If that’s what you think, you’re more out of practice than I thought.” Moira pushed the cart out of line and crashed into someone. “I am so sorry,” she began and looked up. Her apologetic expression went furious when she realized it was Mr. Karlson. “You!”

Evie couldn’t help but bite back a grin. Moira was as friendly as a Labrador, but whenever she was around Mr. Karlson she grew fangs. Maybe there was something to her talk about love and hate being two sides of the same emotion.

“Good evening, Moira,” Mr. Karlson said smoothly. He was wearing slacks, a blue polo, and looked every bit the silver fox. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

Moira pushed her cart forward and ran into his again on purpose. “Out of my way, Karlson.”

He smiled. “Why, when this is so fun?”

“When I think of you, fun is the last word I’d use.”

“Clearly you haven’t been thinking about me in the right way because I’m a lot of fun.” Karlson winked and Evie swore her mom sucked in a breath.

“Then you should join my mom on Saturday for her new book club,” Evie said, and Moira kicked her in the shin.

“It’s a members-only club,” Moira pointed out.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to join.” He looked down at the cart and said, “If you’ll allow me to help, I can pack your groceries in your truck.”

“I don’t need some guy to pack my groceries.”

Karlson lifted a brow at the innuendo and Moira got flustered. “I’m not some guy. I’m a man. When you realize that, you know where I live.”

And for the first time in her life, Evie saw her mom go speechless.