Chapter Thirty-Six

Evie

Lenard was having a good day. So good, in fact, that he wanted to pull a shift at Grinder—which meant that Moira would run things while Lenard chatted up the customers. And so Evie had the full day to herself.

A day free of frizzy hair from the frother, intrusive loved ones wanting to know how her sex life was, and nosey customers wanting to take a ClickByte video with her. It also left her free to obsess over the past week.

And what a glorious week it had been.

Nearly every night after the lights went out at their respective houses they found a way to quench their ever-growing thirst. The more time she spent with him—in and out of clothes—the thirstier she became and not just for the sex-tacular benefits, but for their friendship and connection. It was nice to have someone to share her day with, to unpack the good and the bad.

It wasn’t just a one-way conversation, either. Jonah’s floodgate had been breached and he was more transparent and open with her than any man she’d ever been with. He was in touch with his emotions, mature in the things that mattered, and playful in the ways that counted.

Like just that morning, after Camila left for school, she’d found a note taped to her back door.

You and me, paint the town blue today?

(Clothes optional)

[ ] Yes

[ ] No

She’d checked yes immediately and taped it to his back door, gave a little tap and then raced back to her kitchen, where she was standing by the window like some teenager, waiting for the cute boy next door to write back.

Then he appeared, and a tingle started at the apex of her thighs, fizzing all the way up her stomach until she felt like a champagne bottle about to pop.

Dressed in a blue button-down that was rolled at the sleeves, his hair styled to devastating, and a smile that made her nether region sing, that boy next door was all man. He was a tall drink of water on a hot summer day. And she didn’t just want a sip, she wanted a lick and a nip and a whole lot more.

She grabbed her notepad and scribbled a message, then held it up.

Are you asking me to the school dance or a trip to Make-out Point?

He waggled his brow and then went to work on his response.

Why choose when it can be both?

Should I bring a boutonniere?

[ ] Yes

[ ] No

She held the notebook to the window and her heart leaped as he laughed. She couldn’t hear it through the window, but she felt it in her chest. He didn’t answer the question, but wrote:

Wear something pretty. I’ll be at your door in an hour.

An hour? Evie hadn’t had an hour to get ready for anything in over a decade. It wasn’t often that she had a family-free house and the luxury of primping. She didn’t just want to look pretty, she wanted to look sexy and sophisticated—like the kind of woman who had her own personal Prince Charming.

And he was. Charming and thoughtful and had this assurance about him that made her feel safe. He wasn’t like the other people in her life who needed her to hold their world together. Over the past few weeks he’d proven that he had his own world under control. And sure, she’d helped him get there, but he’d helped her equally as much.

She’d been afraid that anything more than their arrangement would be one more obstacle between her and her goals. Instead, he’d been supportive, someone in her corner who respected her choices and her dream to finish her school, and a huge part of the reason why the shop was doing better.

Not only had Evie taken his advice to expand their menu to include more edible items, she’d renegotiated with some of their vendors and moved to some new ones as well. If things kept up like this, she’d be able to hire a second manager and enroll full-time in school. Maybe even have the freedom to open her professional organizer business. Juggling the café, school, and her own dreams didn’t seem so chaotic. She could practically feel herself walking across that graduation stage and receiving her diploma.

Her world consisted of her, her family, and a lot of worry—about finances, business, her parents’ health, Camila’s happiness. She deserved to live in the now and enjoy every single moment of what today and the next few weeks brought. So instead of the safe jeans and silky top that she’d normally choose, Evie reached into the back of her closet and pulled out a flirty, more-fitted-than-not sundress, which may or may not make her bustline look like J. Lo’s. She also slid on a thong. Gentleman’s choice of royal blue.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored closet door and her hand crept up to touch her cheek. She was glowing. One of those glows that initiated from the inside and bubbled its way up to tickle the chest, sparking all kinds of happy tingles. Every time she thought about Jonah, she felt this foreign happiness overtaking her.

She was just finishing her makeup when there came a knock at the door. And that glow turned radiant. One look and Jonah would know that she wasn’t going to be able to keep this a casual, for-however-long-it-lasts, situationship.

Oh, who was she kidding? This thing between them might have started out as a situationship but had turned into something to cherish—something to hold on to. He’d said that they’d see where this led until it got in the way of their lives. But history told her to progress with caution.

“Don’t get too attached,” she told herself. “Because honeymoons always come to an end. The excitement eventually fades and life crashes down around you.”

It was inevitable.

“Which is why you’re enjoying the ride while it lasts,” she told herself with a stern look in the mirror. She slid on a pair of strappy heels and rushed down the steps. She was breathless when she opened the door—and it had little to do with her sprint down the hallway.

Not only had he added a tie to his shirt, but he was also holding a corsage. A blue peony with baby’s breath and a white ribbon fastened around it. She couldn’t remember the last time a man, other than her dad, had brought her flowers. And she wasn’t talking about the You’ve Got Male roses she’d been inundated with since she’d become ClickByte famous.

Suddenly she remembered her comment about the boutonniere. “I was joking. I didn’t really have a boutonniere.”

“I know,” he said, his eyes drinking her in. “But it got me thinking that a proper date required the proper kind of wooing.”

She smiled. “Are you wooing me, Jonah?”

“Do you want to be wooed, sunshine?”

“Depends on who’s doing the wooing.”

He stepped into her and ever so slowly lowered his head, then planted a kiss on her that made her head spin. “Are you still wondering?”

“It’s becoming clearer.”

He slid his fingers into her hair and cradled the back of her head—and this kiss made her heart spin right out of her chest. “How about now?”

“I’m pretty clear on the topic,” she breathed.

“Good.” He took her hand and brought it up to kiss her fingers, then he slid the corsage on. “It might be a little old-fashioned, but—”

“It’s beautiful.” She nervously toyed with the ribbon.

“You’re beautiful.” He held her hands out to the sides and looked her up and down and everywhere in between. “So fucking beautiful that if we didn’t have plans I’d take you right here against the door.”

Her legs trembled. “I’m sure a few minutes won’t hurt.”

His eyes darkened with interest, turning the color of waves crashing against sea cliffs. “What I want to do to you will take a hell of a lot longer than a few minutes.” He kissed her roughly. “Plus, I’m wooing you, remember?”

“What comes next in this wooing, if it’s not me?”

…

“I didn’t think wooing involved coming to work,” Evie said as they pulled up outside Grinder.

“I just have to run in and grab something really quick,” he said, but he sounded nervous. Not the uncertain kind but the excited kind—the kind that turned her inside out.

Before she could argue he hopped out of the driver’s side and she watched him walk his very fine ass around the front of the car and then he was at her door, holding it open. He reached in and took her hand, slowly easing her out and into his arms where he kissed her again. It was chaste and short—but it had passion. Toe-curling passion.

“I figured we’d start the day with one of those famous lattes I’ve heard about on LoveByte.”

“You watch LoveByte?”

“Every episode where they talk about you,” he said.

“You mean us,” she corrected. “Remember I dragged you and your very private life into the spotlight.”

“I remember,” he said. “Have I thanked you for that?”

She tried to listen for any trace of sarcasm but couldn’t find any. He was being serious. He was thanking her for bringing them together. At least that’s what she thought he was saying. Before she could gain any further clarification on the subject, he led her into the shop—

Where everyone she knew stood looking at her with anticipation. And by everyone, she meant everyone. Her friends, her family, regulars, the You’ve Got Male-Mamas and You’ve Got Male-lorettes—even Tasha Hart, who was rolling tape as the event unfolded.

“Surprise!” they yelled in unison.

It was such a shock that Evie stepped back—right into a strong, supportive wall of muscle and yummy man. She looked at him over her shoulder. “What is this?”

“A celebration for all that you do for everyone,” he said, and her eyes grew moist.

“You did this?”

“It was a team effort,” he said modestly, downplaying his involvement like it was no big deal. But to her it was a gigantic deal.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Can I tell her?” Camila asked, and before she was given an answer, said, “We’ve made it to the top three of Denver’s Best!”

“What?” Evie looked at her parents for confirmation. “Is it true?”

“I just got the email yesterday,” Lenard said.

“You put this all together in a day?” she asked Jonah, who winked down at her.

“We’re the first LGBTQ-owned coffeehouse ever nominated,” Lenard added, and the crowd erupted into claps.

Evie walked over and gave him a hug. He held her tightly. “Dad, I’m so happy for you.”

“Me?” He pulled back. “Sweetie, this is all because of you.”

Evie was one word away from crying. This could be their saving grace. Their long shot. Business was already booming and they were finally making more than they were spending, and a good part of that was thanks to Jonah for helping her streamline the back end of the business and encouraging her to look at different options to really leverage the shop’s name. Camila’s ClickByte posts were getting traction, and even Moira’s Get Grinding cards were helping to introduce new customers to their specialty coffee and beverages.

Then there were the You’ve Got Male groups who had grown into book clubs and lunch meetups, which had doubled the food side of the business. Grinder was, once again, the place to be.

“We all did this,” Evie said, a little choked up.

“Your father and I know how much you’ve sacrificed to help us this past year,” Moira said, tucking Evie’s hair behind her ear like she used to when Evie was little.

“That’s what family does,” Evie said.

“Not all families,” a man in his early thirties who could double as a Gap model said. Then he reached out a hand. “Abe. I’m with Moira.”

Evie looked at her mom, who shrugged. “He’s thirty-six, so technically he’s over the age limit. And he’s right. Very few people would give up what you have for their family. Which is why we’re promoting Julie to general manager and hiring a new assistant manager.”

She choked. “We can’t afford that.” She’d worked tirelessly to get them in the black and in one swoop her parents were going to land them back in trouble.

“We can now,” Lenard said and looked at Jonah. “Seems your man here once managed the investments of the food and beverage buyer for the University of Colorado. Your mom and I met with him after the cheer competition and guess who is the new supplier for all the U of C campuses?”

Evie looked around the room and back at Jonah. “You did that for us?” she asked him.

“I did that for you,” he clarified.

Her heart’s response to that single word was to roll over and show its soft underbelly. “Why?”

He cupped her cheek. “Because you do a lot for the people in your life and I wanted someone to do something for you.”

Her knees turned to vapor. “And that someone was you?”

“That someone was me,” he whispered.