The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

I should be rushing back upstairs to get to Sam, but the truth is, I just need a minute to myself to breathe and soak up everything that’s happened today, and I know that she’s safe with Evie. For the first time this year, I don’t feel alone in this parenting job. Someone who I can trust is upstairs right now, taking beautiful care of my daughter. And apparently, thanks to Natalie, I almost lost Evie.

After allowing myself five full breaths and a moment to run my hands through my hair, I head up the stairs with Sam’s water. I crack open her door and pause in the doorframe, letting the picture before me steal the last bits of my heart. Evie has moved Sam up onto her bed and tucked her in. Daisy is on one side of Sam, and lying on Sam’s other side, is Evie. Her black silk gown is a sharp contrast to Sam’s unicorn bedding.

She looks like a movie star, home from receiving an Oscar and skipping the after-party in favor of coming home to tuck her daughter into bed. She’s singing a quiet, sweet version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and I have to try very hard not to drop down onto one knee here and now.

My mom is right. This feels like a family.

That thought would have scared me last week, but now it fills me with hope.

Evie must feel me watching her, because suddenly, she looks over her shoulder and finds me. A slow smile blooms on her face. I cross the room and set Sam’s water glass on her bedside table. It looks like Evie has already put Sam to sleep, so I nod toward the door. Evie carefully extracts her arm out from under Sam, looking like she’s been doing it every day for the past ten years of my daughter’s life, and tiptoes with me out of the room.

I leave Sam’s door open so I can hear her if she calls for me and take Evie’s hand to silently pull her back down the stairs to the couch.

EVIE

Jake’s house at night is my favorite place in the world. He has the kind of lighting that can be dimmed in every room of the house, and so, right now, the house is blanketed in a soft warm glow. A candle is lit on his coffee table, letting my favorite vanilla scent fill the air, and everything feels peaceful and still.

Jake tugs me toward his couch and then, without dropping my hand, dives onto the couch, landing on his back and pulling me down on top of him. We both laugh as we settle into a comfortable position on the couch where our feet are intertwined and I’m lying half on the couch, half on Jake. He has one hand cradling mine and is kissing every single one of my fingers, and his other hand is lightly brushing circles on my back.

It’s so romantic it makes my chest ache.

“Jake,” I say somewhere between breathlessness and a reprimand. “We need to talk…” I say, trying not to smile as he pulls me up a little closer so that I’m level with his mouth. He tucks his hand into my hair, and his gaze lands on my mouth. He gives me a half smirk and mumbles against my lips, “I don’t want to talk.”

I know that look. He looks half drugged, and I know that if I have any hope of figuring out what’s happening in our relationship, I need to drop a tray of ice cubes down his shirt. Or maybe a different article of clothing…

He leans up just enough to take my bottom lip between his. Okay, so I guess I need some ice cubes too. “Jake!” I say, giving the worst protest anyone has ever heard, and half-heartedly pull away. He tugs me back, and his grin nearly undoes me.

“All right, let’s talk,” he says as he’s kissing the spot right under my ear. “What do you want to talk about?” He’s lacing kisses down my jaw, and…huh, turns out I don’t have anything I want to talk about anymore. I give in and press my hand to his chest to give me better leverage.

I make eye contact with Jake long enough to say, Fine, you want to kiss, then let’s kiss. Fire lights his eyes, and I dip my head down and slant my mouth over his. Our mouths dance, and fire crackles somewhere in the distance even though there’s not even a fire lit in the grate. I feel tiny pressed up next to Jake and his muscular body, and I love every second of it. Images of him defending me outside of the venue flash in my mind, and it shifts the kiss into something deeper. Buckle up, folks, because this train is leaving the station—or at least I thought it was.

But in the next moment, Jake breaks the kiss and sits up abruptly and slides all the way to the opposite end of his couch. He doesn’t look at me for a solid minute…just stares wide-eyed at the black TV. And then slowly, he blinks, and his face turns to me.

I grin, and he grins.

“Maybe we should talk,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Can I sit by you?” I ask, because seriously, we are six feet apart right now, and I don’t want to have to have a serious conversation over walkie-talkies.

“Are you going to behave, Miss Jones?”

My mouth falls open, and I bet my eyes are sparkling. “Me?! You were the one trying to put the moves on me.”

“I’m completely innocent. I thought we would just kiss a little. But you…” He breaks off and puffs out a big breath.

“I, what?” I say with flirty, narrowed eyes.

He smiles and lifts a brow. “You had other ideas.” I feel my cheeks flame because, yep, he’s totally right. “Don’t get me wrong… I have other ideas too. But, yeah, we need to talk because…” His demeanor softens, and he scoots back over near me. “Because you’re important to me, and I want to make sure we are on the same page.” He reaches up and brushes his fingers over my ear.

My heart starts racing again, and I shoot him a look of warning. “Okay, well, if we’re going to talk, you need to stop doing things like that!”

He laughs and pulls his hand away to cross his arms. I do the same. We look ridiculous. Like two teenagers that can’t be trusted to keep their hands to themselves. “Who was th

e woman I found at your door this morning?” I ask because I’ve decided we’re just going to cannonball right on in.

He nods firmly. Down to business. “Right. That was Natalie.”

My arms drop. “Natalie! As in, Sam’s mama and your ex-wife, Natalie?!” Images of that woman’s perfect body assault my memory, and without really thinking, my gaze drops to my own tiny boobs.