The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

Of course he would drive a truck that only makes him look hotter. Of course he would. I wish he drove a minivan with an ugly stick-figure bumper sticker of him and his daughter wearing mouse-ear hats.

“Who is that?” Jo practically yells in my ear.

I pull my phone away with a wince, almost certain I will never fully regain my hearing from that, and ignore her. “I—well, sort of. I was just in the middle of finding one.”

“Lie!” Joanna shouts again. “You already found a ride, remember? Why are you lying to this man?”

“Shhh,” I hiss at Joanna.

She makes a valid point, though. Why am I acting like I don’t already have a ride?

“Hop in. Sam and I were just headed to dinner, but I can drop you off wherever you need to go first.”

Hop in? Well, that’s an idea. One that I should firmly decline. It wouldn’t be good for me to get in that man’s truck. I already have the teeniest bit of a crush on him (read: massive crush), and I know that nothing good can come of taking a ride with him.

All morning, I caught myself glancing at him when I should have been paying attention to Sam and Daisy. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t catch my glances, because he seemed to barely realize I existed. He hovered on the outskirts of the room, only participating when instructed. But even then, he barely spared me a single look. His attention was zeroed in on his daughter and Daisy, which, honestly, only made my attraction to him deepen.

He might have been flirting with me over those first few texts, but now he has made it perfectly clear that he is not interested in me. That’s fine. I’m not interested in him either. And I almost mean that.

“Oh, that’s okay! I’m good to catch a ride with my friend across town. You guys go on to dinner.” My smile is all stars and butterflies, but inside, I feel a little tremble. Why? Do I hope he fights for me? Or do I hope he drives off?

I am a human see-saw. Up and down I go. Take me with you. Leave me be.

“Who is this guy?” Joanna reminds me that she’s still glued to my ear. “He sounds sexy.” You have no idea.

“Come with us, Evie!” I hear Sam bellow from the backseat.

I want to step closer so I can see her, but I know that’s a bad idea too. I need to keep my butt over here, far away from this family that I can very well see myself growing attached to. I’m already going to be spending every day this week with them; I don’t need to heap more coals onto the already blazing fire.

“Yeah, come on,” Jacob says with a cool-guy wave. His other hand is draped over the steering wheel, and he looks so effortlessly sexy. “Don’t make your friend come all this way.”

His persistence is throwing me off. Just when I think I understand what’s happening with him, he turns the tables. Earlier today, he was Mr. I-Don’t-Care-About-You, and now I could almost swear I see a hopefulness in his eyes.

“Well…” I glance around and remember that Tyler will show up at any moment. I really don’t want to be here when that happens.

“For Pete’s sake, go with the hot man!” Joanna says, and I hear her garage closing again. What a traitor. “I’m officially retracting my offer to come pick you up.”

I turn my back briefly to Jacob and Sam and cup my hand around the mouth of the phone like I’ve seen people do in the movies. Apparently, this keeps anyone else from hearing what I’m saying. “Are you sure? I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.” I haven’t told Jo yet about my teeny-tiny, almost non-existent attraction to Jacob.

“If he’s half as cute as he sounds, I’d say it’s a fantastic idea. And besides, you need more friends under the age of sixty. Honey, it’s about time I kick you out of the nest. Fly, little Evie birdie, fly!”

I roll my eyes as she ends the call. I never get to end it first. One of these days, I’m going to end it mid-conversation just to throw her.

I turn around with a tense smile. “Well, my ride just bailed on me, so I think I have to take you up on your offer.”

Chapter Eight

JAKE

How am I doing in my attempt to keep Evie Jones at bay? Not great, considering she’s sitting in my passenger seat right now. I nearly ramped the curb when I saw her standing there with Charlie. She looked sad and concerned with her phone pressed to her ear. I threw the truck in park and almost sprang from my seat before I mentally grabbed myself by the collar and shook some sense into my sorry self.

“How are you?” I ask after Evie puts Charlie in the backseat with Sam and she buckles herself into the passenger seat.

This is ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I saw this woman not even four hours ago, and I’m already feeling needy to know how she is? What she’s been doing since she left our house? Why she looks so sad?

“Fine.” She gives me the universal female answer for everything is horrible, but I resist asking any further questions, because I’m not her boyfriend. Never going to be.

Next time I date, it will be someone of average beauty and definitely not seven years younger than me.