Chapter Twenty

Evie

They hadn’t even ordered their food and already Evie wanted to ask for the check. Or maybe a raincheck that was to be cashed in never.

There she was, sitting in a booth and looking over the wine list, wondering what the hell she was doing. After their shopping trip concluded, Jonah offered to take her to dinner. At first, she declined, but then he’d pointed out that they still needed to make a video, and what was more date-like than sharing a bottle of wine by candlelight?

She’d begrudgingly agreed, but only for the sake of Operation Off the Market, so she’d gotten her mom to close up shop. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a secluded, tiny table for two where their knees were playing bumper cars.

Playing footsie with Disaster Jonah was one thing. Doing it while he looked like a GQ model in his new suit and tie? Sweet baby Jesus was she in trouble. He hadn’t just managed to make her forget about her problems; he’d made her laugh. He’d also made her feel things that weren’t part of their fake relationship. Things that were responsible for the dopey smile she knew she was sporting.

She’d smiled so much over the past few hours her cheeks hurt. And that was nothing compared to how her hormones had decided to come out of hibernation and hum in the most inappropriate places. And at the most inappropriate times—like now while she was staring at his tie and imagining how it could double as a blindfold.

“Maybe we should go to the food court instead,” she said.

“Why?” he asked. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

She laced her fingers and placed her hands in her lap. “My hands are fine just where they are.”

“If you decide they need a change of scenery, I have some suggestions.” When she didn’t laugh, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, callused fingertips sending shivers down her spine. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You’ve been on edge since we sat down.”

“I’m not on edge. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“So am I,” he said quietly. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

Worst idea ever. Because talking about it would expose the reason behind that dopey smile. It wasn’t just about GQ Jonah, it was about the caring, tender, emotionally attuned Jonah that she was starting to know.

Evie didn’t ask what-ifs when it came to men, but there was something about this new side of Jonah that ignited a lightning storm of what-ifs—most of them centering around that drunken kiss all those months back.

A kiss that was a mistake, but nonetheless had sparked a curiosity that continued to grow. A curiosity she had to squash. Because while they needed to make people think this was real, she needed to remind herself that this was about as real as rainbow-farting unicorns. Reason being, his life was still a mess. When she’d been a professional organizer she’d worked with a lot of grieving people. People who’d recently lost a loved one and couldn’t face the emotions that came with letting go. Evie would work with them, guide them and support them while they sifted through some of the most treasured times of their lives, times that had ended, so that they could unpack the grief and open a new chapter.

The widows and widowers were the hardest. Sifting through wedding pictures, their spouse’s clothes that still smelled like them, the everyday items that symbolized the end. Something as benign as a toothbrush could unlock deep emotions because it was a reminder that their loved one was never coming back. It was Evie’s job, and honor, to be the person who held their hand through the roughest patch of their lives.

So then, why hadn’t she helped Jonah when Amber had passed?

Before she could respond, the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and held it out for Evie’s inspection.

“This is my favorite,” she said. “How did you know?”

“It’s my job as your boyfriend to know what you enjoy.”

She tried to think of the last time a man had taken the time to catalog what her likes and dislikes were. She couldn’t. She also tried to remember the last time she’d had this much fun with a man and came up blank again.

And when he looked at her like that, like she was the most precious thing on the planet, it was easy to see how fast she could fall into Jonah’s life, which would mean she’d have to put her own on hold. It would further complicate her relationship with Camila—who was barely talking to her. And it would add a whole other family to her already long list of dependents. So it was a good thing this wasn’t real.

The waiter opened the bottle and handed the cork to Evie. She sniffed it, then nodded. After the waiter left, saying he’d be back to take their order, Jonah picked up his glass and held it out to her. “To an incredible first date.”

“Fake date,” she reminded him.

“Sunshine, to everyone in this restaurant we are a couple enjoying each other’s company.”

He watched her over the rim of his glass, his expression intense and assessing to the point that she squirmed in her seat. The more time she spent with him, the higher the potential for things to go sideways. Even the slightest axis tilt would send the balls she was juggling crashing to the ground. And what a disastrous crash it would be, because those balls were made of blown glass, where the slightest tap would shatter them all.

“What else would people expect?” she asked, because it had been a long time since she’d gone to dinner with a man. And this man didn’t fit into the normal categories. He wasn’t a stranger, but their relationship had always been defined by their kids. Yet this was an intimate party of two, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about that. Or if she should feel anything at all.

“A lot of eye contact.” His gaze locked on hers, humor and something warmer flickering in their depths. “Check. Hand-holding.” He took her hand, even threaded their fingers together, and she ignored how perfectly they fit. And she especially ignored the flutter of butterflies that took flight in her stomach. “Check. Deep conversation.”

“How deep?” she whispered.

“Why don’t we start with the easy stuff and work up to the hard stuff.”

She wasn’t sure what he considered easy because she was having a hard time focusing while his thumb was skating over the back of her wrist. Evie said the only thing she could think of.

“How is potty training coming?”

He laughed. “Terrible. Any tips?”

“Let me break it down for you in three easy steps. Number one, when she uses the potty give her a treat. Two, when she uses the potty give her a treat. And finally, when she uses the potty give her a treat. You’re going to treat it like it’s Halloween.”

“And hype her up on sugar?”

“It’s not really about the treat, it’s more about the attention. Women are pretty easy. They just want your attention.”

“Are we talking hypothetical attention or specifically my attention, sunshine?”

She didn’t answer, instead redirecting the conversation back to the kids. “I’m getting even more worried about how this is affecting our kids.”

“How did Ryan seem?” he asked.

“Like he was angry but trying not to show it.”

Jonah snorted. “So normal? He did mention that he and Camila had been talking about it a bit more. Camila also told him that your dad’s shop is in trouble.”

Evie didn’t like to talk about family business with outsiders, but she felt like she’d been alone in this battle and could use a sounding board.

“More like one bad month from going under.”

“How is that possible? Grinder is an institution in this town.”

“Between Starbucks and other cafés popping up around town and my dad not cutting spending as earnings went down, it’s a mess.”

“It was packed the other day.”

“That has more to do with ClickByte than the shop. And I’m afraid once this is all over and people lose interest that the shop will go under. That’s why I’m hoping to win this Denver’s Best contest while we have the buzz from the socials. The free advertising alone could really turn things around. We just have to stay open long enough.”

“Do you like working there?” His voice sounded sincere—not an ounce of judgment.

“You mean at the place I worked at as a teenager when I came home pregnant and single? Yeah, it’s a real party.”

“That bad?” The waitress passed by and he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

For show, she told herself.

“It’s not that I hate it. I love helping my family. But I miss being my own person. When I had a career, I had something that was all mine.”

He stared at her for a long moment and something passed between them. A deep understanding that only two people who had sacrificed their needs for their loved ones could understand.

“I totally get that. I feel like I lost my identity the moment Amber was diagnosed. And it wasn’t just quitting my job, it was like saying goodbye to a part of myself. An important part.”

“Being a single parent doesn’t leave a lot of room for dreams.”

“What’s your dream, Evie?” he asked and…had he moved closer? Or had she? Either way, their thighs brushed and his free hand rested on her knee. Her bare knee. The contact was electric.

“I want to finish my degree,” she admitted. “I just don’t know how that could work. With the shop, my dad’s health, I just don’t think the timing is right. Again.” This was the third time she’d struck out.

“So you haven’t accepted?”

She shook her head. “I have to take this placement exam first. But it’s on one of our busiest days of the week and my mom will be taking my dad to dialysis.”

“I don’t know anything about making coffee, but I know how to manage people. Let me help.”

An unwanted warmth that went way beyond attraction worked its way through her chest. “You don’t have to do that. It isn’t part of our agreement.”

“It’s something I’d do for any friend.”

The word friend struck her wrong. Maybe it was the ambiance or the wine or the way his fingers were gliding over her knee, but it felt like something more complicated than friends.

“I have to think about it.” She was so used to being in control, it was the only way her life worked. She’d rather miss the exam than be let down by a man again.

“I think it’s best that we stick to the agreement,” she said.

“You help so many people. Why are you so afraid to ask for help? Or even accept it when it’s being offered?”

“Because in the past, asking for help meant disappointment when it came to the male species.”

“I’d never let you down, Evie.”

She swallowed thickly. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. And I think deep down you do, too.”

Over the past decade she’d seen Jonah at his best and worst, his highest and absolute lowest. Terrifyingly, she’d found herself being drawn to both. Because if she felt this way over him when his life was a three-ring circus, how would she feel when he was the ringleader?

That was a situationship she didn’t want to find herself in.

“Help goes both ways and I don’t have any room for more strings. I might trip.”

“Accepting help doesn’t make you indebted. At least not with me. Plus, didn’t you just get me the number for a gardener who came highly recommended? And a part-time daddy’s helper?”

“That reminds me.” She opened her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I also found you a cleaning lady. She works for one of the regulars at the shop.”

“First, I will have you know that my kitchen counter was clean enough to eat off this morning. Second, that is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Me finding you a sitter or housekeeper is part of our arrangement, part of me helping you get your life in order.” A fact she needed to remember.

That didn’t mean that her heart didn’t melt when he ran his thumb over the inside of her wrist and said lowly, “You’re doing more than helping me put my life in order. You’re putting it right.”

“I am?”

“Yeah,” he said, and she found herself getting lost in those ocean-blue eyes. “Evie?”

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

He cupped her cheek and angled her head until her lips were a breath from his. “You ready?”

She was nowhere near ready to kiss Jonah, yet she didn’t pull away and he slowly lowered his head. In fact, she met him half way and then—

Then his mouth was on hers, gentle and probing, more of a caress. Nothing to warrant the way her heart was pounding or her blood was surging through her body. By the way her nipples were popping their corks, she’d think they were playing that game of strip Jenga.

He shifted, pulling her lower lip between his. Intentional. Practiced. Perfect. As if he’d been thinking about this moment for months. And if she were being honest with herself, so had she.

They’d both been circling each other since that night a few months back, desperate to see if it really was as incredible as they remembered. Newsflash: it was even better. It was, hands down, the best kiss she’d ever experienced—and yet their mouths were barely moving.

There was a whole lot of movement happening beneath the table, though, as she parted her legs so he could slide one of his between and lock them into place like a missing puzzle piece.

Jonah slowly pulled away and she leaned farther into it, trying to fill the growing space between their lips. She slowly opened her eyes, expecting him to look as dazed as she felt. But he was smiling.

“Do you think they caught that?”

She shook her head to make sure she heard him right. “What?”

“The kiss. The couple behind us was filming.” He ran the pad of his thumb down her cheekbone. “Why, sunshine, were you kissing me just for the sake of kissing?”

“No.” She batted his hand away, her stomach sinking. “We have an agreement. And that was all according to plan.”