The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

After dinner, Evie helped me clear the dishes. When she came to stand next to me at the sink, every muscle in my body tightened with awareness of her. She feels like a magnet. I’m being pulled to this woman, and I’m helpless to stop it.

I want to stop it. I need to stop it. She’s too young for me. Too pretty. I bet she has drooling men trailing after her everywhere she goes. I don’t want to compete for a woman’s attention again. I don’t want to constantly worry if she’s cheating on me with a guy from the gym, or if she’s going to up and leave in a month when she has a doctor offer her a ticket to Hawaii.

But at the same time, I see what a good impact she’s having on Sam. She has connected with my daughter in a way that even my sisters haven’t been able to since Natalie left. I can’t overlook that. Does this mean that I’m coming around to the idea of dating again?

“Daddy, can Evie tuck me in tonight? I want to show her my room.”

I sigh and rub the back of my neck. What’s the protocol for this? Do I let Sam get attached? Do I protect her already-broken heart? I don’t know what the right answer is here.

“It’s fine with me if Evie wants to. But I don’t want to hold her up if she doesn't have time for it.” I give Evie a questioning look. I’m putting the ball in her court because I don’t know what else to do.

She smiles down at Sam. “Plenty of time. Show me that room, darlin’.”

I hug and kiss Sam goodnight and watch as the two disappear up the stairs, Charlie and Daisy following close behind.

All while I’m washing the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher, I’m aware that I should feel nervous by the amount of time they are spending together upstairs. I don’t. It feels right. Like this friendship between them was always meant to be.

As I’m loading the last bowl in the dishwasher, Evie’s white tennis shoes enter my sights. I know for a fact I’ve never been so attracted to a woman in tennis shoes before now.

“You’ve got a great kid up there,” she says, and that answers the question that’s been flying around my brain for the last half-hour.

I don’t want to push Evie away anymore. If she’s up for a friendship, so am I. But ONLY a friendship. I need to dip my toes in and see if the water’s warm before I’m ready to take a dive.

“I wish I could say I had something to do with it. But it’s all Sam. She came out that great all on her own.”

Evie smiles, and I want to let my eyes trace the outline of her mouth, but I don’t because yeah…friends. “Somehow I doubt that’s completely true. I’ve seen how you are with her.” We stare at each other for a moment, and then Evie shuffles her eyes around the room. “Well. Thanks again for dinner. Have you seen my phone? I need to call an Uber.”

She starts looking around the kitchen, and I wait until her back is turned to me to say, “It’s a nice evening. Do you want to go sit on the porch until your ride gets here?”

Evie’s body stops. Apparently, I’ve shocked her. “Do you mean you want me to wait for my Uber outside and not in your house?”

“What?” Oh, great. She thinks I’m being a jerk again. “No. I meant…do you want to sit on the porch with me? You know, talk together. With words.”

I’m ten years old, and she’s the cutest girl in class. I’m begging her to accept my Valentine heart, and she’s staring at it like it’s poison.

A grin finally cracks on her mouth, and she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Words? I wasn’t sure you knew how to use those. At least, not outside of insinuating I look like a man or accusing me of extortion.”

I smile and shrug. “Occasionally, I can find a few nice ones.”

“And are you going to use those nice ones if I sit on the porch with you?” I hate that she’s skeptical. I hate that she has a right to be. But I love the southern lilt to her voice.

I cross my heart. “The nicest.”

Evie brushes past me with narrowed eyes and a wary smile as if I’m some feral predator lying casually in the tall grass. She’s a doe, prancing by but cautious that I might pounce at any moment.

She doesn’t know just how much I want to, but not in the way she thinks.

When we make it out onto the porch, I gesture for her to sit down on the swing first. I think I spot the apples of her cheeks turn pink, but I can’t be entirely sure. She sits down, and now I’m certain I see a secret smile on her mouth. I briefly glance at my pants, wondering if my fly is down or something.

Still zipped.

I take care to sit as far away from her on the swing as possible, but my body still hums with awareness of her. We start swinging, and the dogs settle down on the porch by the front door. It’s a deep swing, but I’m tall enough that my feet are fully planted on the ground. Evie’s toes are barely touching, and for some reason, that makes me smile.

Seconds pass, or minutes, or hours, I don’t know. All I know is that we are both quiet and sitting stiff as boards, and I’ve never felt more awkward. I steal a glance at her and find her stealing one too. I’m not alone in this awkwardness.

“Okay. What are we doing here, Jacob?” she finally asks.

“Call me Jake. Everyone else does.”