The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

“Four! Goodness gracious! Are you close with them?”

“Very. I couldn’t have gotten through this year without them.” I can feel the conversation drifting toward the therapist’s couch again, so I steer it away. “How about you?” Somehow, I can picture her fitting in with four sisters.

She shakes her head. “It’s just me and my parents. And before you ask me that question, no, we do not get along.”

“Really? Why not?”

She chuckles a little, but it doesn’t sound like the happy kind. “They want me to be someone I’m not. They have very clear expectations for me and who I should be. From the day I flung my toddler beauty pageant crown in my mama’s face, I’ve been letting them down.”

“I’m sorry. That’s gotta be hard.” I can’t imagine anyone ever being disappointed with this woman. I mean, she trains service dogs for a living, for crying out loud.

She smiles softly, and her green eyes pin me in my seat. We are locked in a stare as the porch swing continues to sway us back and forth, and I never want this game to end. Except, it does when Evie’s eyes fall to my lips. Did she look there intentionally? My stomach swoops, and I’m wondering how friendly it would be to tug her over to me and find out if her lips taste like strawberries. I’ve been dwelling on that important question since I saw her apply a pink lip balm earlier.

“Can I ask you something that’s a little out of line for the business friendship we have?” she asks, her voice breathy and nervous.

“Sure. I’m all ears.”

She smiles tentatively, and I wonder if she’s going to ask me out. Is that something women do these days? It’s pathetic how old that thought makes me feel.

“Will you consider letting Sam go to the slumber party with her friends?”

And just like that, I’m a popped balloon—air rushing out of me as I fall and land deflated on the ground.

In the tiny span of time between her potential and actual question, my mind took a hundred different turns, none of which I can voice out loud because I’m too much of a gentleman—or at least I pretend I am.

“The slumber party?” Now I’m just stalling, feeling like I need a minute to reel my thoughts back in.

“Yeah. Sam told me about the slumber party at her friend Jenna’s house. She really wants to go, and I think that it would be good for her.” She bites the bottom corner of her lip, and I realize that she’s nervous. She’s afraid I’m going to resort back to my caveman ways and beat the ground, telling her to get out of my house.

I’ve got news for her: I’m not going to be that guy again. I’m done being the jerk around her, so I smile and purposefully relax more into the swing. “She gave you her doe eyes, didn’t she?”

Evie’s face lights up. “The biggest eyes I’ve ever seen! I think she even managed to let a single tear pool in them. How does she do that?”

I laugh. “She’s an impressive human being. But honestly, Evie…I don’t know about the party. I don’t think I’m ready for her to do something like that.”

“But Sam is.” Her words feel like a hammer to my chest. “She and Daisy are doing great together. Trust Daisy to do her job. She’s going to take care of Sam if she has a seizure, and she’ll alert Jenna’s parents, and they can call you.” I don’t respond right away, so Evie reaches out and lays her hand across my forearm that has been draped over the back of the swing. “You can’t keep her in your pocket forever, Jake. Just because your daughter has epilepsy, it doesn’t mean that she has to be treated like a toddler for the rest of her life. She’s going to need to grow up and learn to live with her disability. Trust me.”

I do trust her. Or at least…I’m starting to.

I puff out a breath, trying for once not to overthink anything. “All right. I’ll let her go.”

Evie smiles wide and squeezes my arm. I swear I’m going to lean across the swing and kiss her. I have to. Every inch of me is aching for it.

Honk. Honk.

Evie and I both jump, and she pulls away, springing to her feet and grabbing the dogs’ leashes like we were just caught after curfew doing something we shouldn’t. I wonder if she could read my thoughts a moment ago, because she seems suddenly reluctant to meet my eyes. Would she hate a kiss from me?

GET IT TOGETHER, JAKE. You can’t kiss her! You’re not ready for this, remember?

“I think you’re making the right decision about the party,” Evie says as she’s running down the porch stairs in a full gallop. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

I’m watching her leave my house, and honestly, I hate it. I want her to stay. It’s stupid. I’m being stupid. But just before she gets in the Uber, a thought hits me, and I call out to her. “Evie, wait.”

Charlie and Daisy jump in the backseat, and Evie pauses before getting in to look at me. “That’s what Sam was trying to get you to ask me earlier, wasn’t it? When she pushed you into the kitchen? She wanted you to ask me about the slumber party, but you knew I’d say no, so you covered by inviting yourself for dinner.” I state this like I’m at a murder-mystery dinner and I’ve just solved the case.

A smile grows on her lips, confirming that she threw herself under a bus to protect my daughter’s chances of happiness. “Night, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Evie.”