He blinked at her in surprise at the suggestion, then a slow, grateful smile lifted his lips. “That’s a fantastic idea.”
“Then consider it done.” She was happy to give his mother a small makeover, just a little something to make her feel beautiful and good about herself again. “When I get back to work, I’ll look at my schedule and give you a time when I have an opening this next week.”
“Okay,” he agreed, though neither of them brought up the fact that this temporary, fake relationship between them would be done and over with by then. Her offer was strictly about building his mother’s self-esteem back up, because that’s what she enjoyed doing, and nothing more.
Out of the corner of her eye, Evie saw a monarch butterfly and focused on that instead. “Look at that. I hardly see butterflies anymore,” she mused, smiling as it fluttered their way.
Beside her, Eric stilled, his expression amazed. “My sister,” he said, his voice low.
She had no idea what he was talking about. “Your sister?” she asked in confusion.
His gaze never left the butterfly, which seemed to dance playfully in the air a few feet away from them. “Growing up, Trisha was obsessed with butterflies. She loved them, and they always seemed to gravitate to her. They hated me, probably because I was a stupid kid who tried swatting them away. And now . . . whenever I see them, I know it’s Trisha’s way of letting me know she’s around and watching over me.”
Oh, wow. His explanation made Evie’s heart swell in her chest. The wonder and awe with which he watched the butterfly caused her throat to tighten with emotion. And when he slowly moved up behind Evie, pressing his body intimately close, then lifted her hand straight out with his palm cupping hers, she felt like he was sharing a piece of his heart with her.
“Hey, Trish,” he cajoled softly while sliding an arm around Evie’s waist to bring their bodies flush, making them one instead of two. “Come and meet Evie.”
The butterfly dipped and teased and swirled around the two of them before finally settling in the palm of Evie’s hand, its beautiful wings coming to rest together. She gasped in shock and sheer wonder at the sight. Butterflies did not randomly land on people . . . yet this one trusted her and Eric enough to rest gently in their joined hands.
With Eric’s chest pressing against her back, she could feel him breathing, slow and calm, savoring the rare moment just as much as she was, and everything it meant to him. The moment was so poignant it choked her up.
After a short while, the butterfly gently flapped its wings and took off, and Eric buried his face against Evie’s neck, his mouth near her ear. “She would have liked you,” he whispered, the sadness in his voice tugging on her heart.
Evie swallowed hard to keep her own emotions at bay. She was certain she would have liked Trisha, too.
Eric gradually released Evie, and when she glanced at him, she found his expression unreadable, as if he’d realized how deeply emotional and intimate the moment had been and was trying to recover. Evie understood. She was feeling a bit off-balance, as well.
He exhaled a deep breath. “I’m going to head up to the lodge to get a bottled water. Would you like one?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” She considered joining him, but after everything he’d just shared, about his mother and then the butterfly, she figured he could use a little time alone with his thoughts. And truthfully, she didn’t mind having a few minutes with hers.
“I’ll be right back.”
He walked up the pathway toward the lodge, and she continued skipping stones, which she found incredibly relaxing. It was early afternoon, and while there were people floating out on the lake and meandering around the resort area, it was quiet where she was, and she soaked it in before they were scheduled to meet up with the rest of the family for dinner and the Fourth of July fireworks later that evening.
Less than a few minutes passed before she heard footsteps behind her. Surprised that Eric was back so soon, she turned around and was even more startled to see Graham walking toward her . . . without Raquel anywhere around.
Unease crept through her. She had no desire to be alone with Graham. Not that she was afraid of him, she just didn’t trust him . . . or like him much anymore.
Evie narrowed her gaze. “Where’s Raquel?” she asked when he reached her, putting up that barrier between them—the fact that he had a fiancée and yet here he was alone with Evie.
“She’s at our cabin. She had a migraine and wanted to take a nap.” He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his khaki shorts. “I saw you standing out here by yourself and wanted to talk to you without either of our significant others around.”