“What do you think?” Quentin said, bringing her back to pie land. “Can we put it in the rotation? Give it a try?”
“Sure,” Evans said.
Ariel drifted in. “I’ve been working on a way to decorate Quentin’s new pie.” She set down a sheet pan of dancing pigs made from pastry.
Stunned to silence, Evans jerked her head up and met Quentin’s eyes.
“Pigs,” Ariel said. “You know—for the bacon and the leaf lard.”
“I told her not to do it,” Quentin said. “I knew you’d think it was dumb. Or irreverent...offensive...or something...”
And just like that, for the first time in days, Evans began to laugh. “I would have thought maybe maple leaves, but pigs! I love it.”
“You’re all right with dancing pigs?” Quentin asked.
“Why not?” Evans took her apron off and handed it to Ariel. “Let’s debut the pig pies Wednesday. I’m going home. You two can help Neva lock up.”
They looked up in surprise. She was always the last one out the door.
“What’s up with her?” Ariel said as Evans exited the back door.
A good question, and not one Evans was sure she had the answer for. She just knew she seemed to be evolving into a world where she didn’t consider every angle or have to be in control of everything. There had been a time when she would have said no to those precious little pigs because: 1. They might make people expect a meat pie. 2. An artisan pie ought to be taken seriously and dancing pigs were anything but. 3. Someone from PETA might come in and take offense that a pig’s image was being used.
To hell with all that. You couldn’t plan away every mistake. You could prepare, anticipate, and work the angles, and life still slapped you in the face.
She needed more dancing pigs in her life, and she was going to have them.
As she stepped onto her street, she thought about how serious Ariel had been about those silly little pigs, while Quentin looked like he was expecting a meltdown of Biblical proportions—and she began to laugh.
She laughed and laughed—until she caught sight of the bugmobile. And there was Jake sitting on her porch steps.
For a second she felt nothing short of joy of the first degree, but that was just a heart muscle memory. When that passed she wasn’t unhappy. There was a time when she would have hidden behind a tree until she had time to try to figure why he was here and all the ways she might respond.
But she was done with that.
She straightened her posture and quickened her steps. The sooner she got there, the sooner this would be over.
* * *
Jake had been sitting on Evie’s steps for an hour before he saw her walking down the street. Even though he knew she wouldn’t be home yet, he’d come as soon as he got back to town. It didn’t make sense, but nothing about what had happened made sense.
He supposed he wanted to prove he’d sit here as long as he had to. After all, he hadn’t come for a feeling of home, to salvage friendship, or even to see if she was okay. He was here for her heart.
He stood up as she approached. She didn’t look mad.
“Hello, Jake.” She spoke before he had a chance.
“I tried and tried to call you. I texted about forty times before I realized you’d blocked me.” Actually, he hadn’t realized on his own. Robbie had pointed out that none of the texts had been marked as delivered.
She half smiled and brushed past him to unlock the door. “Seems like blocking didn’t keep you off my porch. I’ll have to call Apple and see what they can do about that.”
In spite of the half smile, he thought she might run him off but, after opening the door, she just turned around and looked at him. When he hesitated, she said, “Well, come on in. Let’s get this done.”
“Just so you know, I tried to follow you last Sunday night. Robbie said I shouldn’t.”
Evie sat down on the sofa and nodded toward the chair across her. Letting him sit was a good sign, even if she wasn’t willing for him to sit beside her.
He sat down and leaned as far toward her as he could. “I would have been here before now, but Robbie said I should give you a couple of days to cool down. And then I had to go on the road. Robbie also said I shouldn’t send you flowers, that it would just make you mad.”
Evie crossed her legs and began to swing her foot. “Robbie did, did he? Robbie must be quite the expert.”
“No.” Jake looked from her bouncing foot to her eyes. “But I’ve done a piss poor job on my own, so I thought I’d try it his way. And you know, Robbie’s family is in the wedding business. He’s seen a lot of weddings. Couples. You know.” As he spoke, he realized his words sounded just as dumb as his math grades had always indicated that he was.
“No, I can’t say I knew that about Robbie.” She sounded pleasant, but...detached. Like she was being polite to a stranger. He’d thought it was good that she wasn’t mad anymore. Now, he wasn’t so sure. It seemed like she didn’t give a damn, one way or the other.
Might as well get started. He had a lot to say. “That night—the Sunday night at Hammer Time when—”
Evie nodded, in a get-on-with-it way. “I know the one, Jake. The day I went to Nashville.”
“Yes. That. I wanted—still want—to apologize for the day before. It was inexcusable. I acted like a toddler who’d had his best toy taken away from him.”
“I guess that’s pretty much what happened, isn’t it?” she said. “Though I wouldn’t classify as best.”
“I wouldn’t call you a toy of any sort. That’s not what I meant. I came to say you were right. You had an obligation. I was in a snit because I didn’t get my way. I should have gone to Nashville with you. I wish to hell I had.”
“Funny, that.” She reached up and rubbed her temple. “It was my intention to apologize to you that night and tell you that I wished to hell I hadn’t gone, that I had gone to New Orleans with you. I had a few realizations.”
“I’ve had some of my own—one being that I still have a sore spot where Channing is concerned—not that I want her. Oh, hell no. But it was a tough time. Now that I know that, it won’t cause me to act irrationally again. We can go to Nashville anytime you want.”
She placed her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. “Oh, Jake. Channing has left a lot of people sore—me included. It’s her hobby. Of course you’d feel that way.”
He felt some hope. “Then can we just agree that we’ve both had some realizations, that we both made mistakes? Can we just agree that it was a stupid argument that doesn’t mean anything in the long run?”
“Absolutely, we can.” She opened her eyes and met his. “Not that it matters.”
For a second there, he had been elated, but then she zapped it like a ray gun in a video game.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember, I know about the bet now, Jake. I know you were just biding your time with me until you could go back to your glamorous blondes.”
What kind of convoluted thinking was that? Didn’t she know how much he wanted her? It might be best not to voice his opinion on her thought process, but he could deny it.
“No. That’s not true. It was a stupid bet. It didn’t mean anything. I had already decided to clean up my act when we made the bet. I told Robbie that. He said I couldn’t do it and—well, one thing led to another.”
“And it was easy with me, wasn’t it? Good old Evie. Not much of temptress, but she sure can make a pie. Always a good placeholder between better times.” She let out a laugh totally devoid of humor.
That made him mad. But hadn’t that been her intent? He’d hold it in check, be reasonable. He got up, went to stand in front of the fireplace, and turned to face her.
“No. That’s not how it is. How can you say that about yourself, and how can you say I wasn’t tempted? You were there with me. You make me
feel things like never before.”
“But not enough. Just so you know, when I said it wasn’t the right time, I only meant right then, Jake. That night.” She sighed and rolled her eyes at his undoubtedly blank expression.
He had no idea what she was saying.
“I had my period. If not for that, I would have slept with you right then.”
“Oh.” Why hadn’t she said that, straight out? How was he supposed to have gotten that from what she’d said?
“Oh, is right.” She got up and came to stand in front of him. “I guess you’re surprised to find out that sleeping with me would have been so easy. Though you shouldn’t be. Making things easy for you has been my life’s work. And I wanted proof that I stood a chance with you. So you see, all that talk about how wise I was and how it was right to wait, that was really just relief that you wouldn’t be expected to sleep with me for, what was it? Three months?”
“You’ve got this all wrong.” He started to put his hands on her shoulders, but she gave him a look that let him know he’d better not, so he let his arms drop back to his side. “I was right there with you that night. I wanted you, I would have made love to you, the puck be damned.”
“I’m not sure about that, though I’ll concede that you believe what you’re saying. But, either way, in the light of day you were glad. You wanted to win that bet and keep that puck.”
“It was never about the puck. I don’t care about the damned puck. I want to make love to you right now. I want to make a relationship. Just give us a chance.” This time he couldn’t help himself, Jake reached out to lay his hands on her shoulders. “Please, Evie. Just say yes.”
* * *
It was the hands that did it—made her hesitate. So far, she’d been strong and resolute, even when he was saying all the right words. She might still look cool and determined on the outside, but on the inside, she was a mess.
Her gave her a sad little smile, bringing attention to his mouth—the mouth she knew the taste of, that she wanted to taste right now. And, God help her, he let his hands slide down from her shoulders to the bare skin above her elbows.
Cold chills went over her. She could tell by the way he smiled that he noticed. Well, there wasn’t anything she could do about that.
But she could do this: “No.”
His smile died. “What?”
“You said I always say yes when I really want to say no. That it’s my problem.” Evie stepped back out of his reach and squared her shoulders. “And you’re right. I do. This time I’m saying no when I want to say yes.”
He opened his mouth, but she put up a hand and stopped him.
“You see, Jake, I’m saying no, because I should say no. I wish it wasn’t so, but I don’t think I can ever trust you not to abandon me again the minute something gets inconvenient.” She fought to keep her eyes from filling. “I’ve spent my life making myself convenient for you. That’s on me. But I can’t be your yes girl anymore and that’s what you would always expect.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said.
“You think that.”
“I know it.”
She leveled her gaze on him. “I have a question.”
“Anything.”
“This is probably an invitation for humiliation, but I have to know. That night at my parents’ Christmas party, the night you met Channing—”
“Yes?” He set his jaw and dropped his eyelids.
“I got the sense—that is, before Channing came in—that something changed between us. I thought there was a spark.”
“Yes. I was about to ask you to go to the Sigma Chi spring formal with me, and then—” He trailed off and looked at the floor.
She nodded. “And then Channing came in, sprinkling her fairy dust.” There wasn’t any malice in her voice.
“Fairy dust isn’t real, Evie, and what we have is.”
She shook her head. “We don’t have anything, Jake.”
“Is there anything I can do to prove to you that I wouldn’t abandon you?”
“Nothing I can think of, but then if I had to be the one to think of it, what good would it be?”
He looked at her for a long moment and his sad eyes went straight to her heart. She looked away before she could start thinking that if he looked that sad, surely, surely it didn’t have to end this way. But she knew it did.
“If that’s your last word, I guess I’ll go.” His voice was ragged.
“Then you should go.” She walked to the door and opened it.
She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be strong. But after saying no to the thing she had wanted so much for so long, holding back the tears until the bugmobile roared away was the best she could do.
Chapter Thirty
Jake put bread in the toaster Evie had picked out for him and poured eggs into the copper skillet he’d bought to please her—not that it had, and she sure as hell wasn’t pleased with him now.
He spread peanut butter on his toast and slid the eggs onto a plate. He’d forgotten to get bacon at the store.
Since he’d last seen Evie, he’d played some games—won some, lost some, played well, played mediocre, and—once, against Dallas—played outstanding, according to people who ought to know.
But Evie hadn’t seen any of it.
He put his plate in the dishwasher and eyed the copper skillet. He’d wash it later. Or not. The cleaning service would be here tomorrow. Or maybe he could invite Killjoy over—though he might not do dishes anymore since he’d been named permanent captain. They could commiserate over what they didn’t have.
When they were in New York last week, Robbie had practically begged him to go with him to take two women to dinner after the game. “Come on, man. It’ll do you good. They aren’t puck bunnies,” Robbie had said. “They’ve never even been to a hockey game. They’re lawyers. I met them at the Starbucks around the corner from the hotel.”
So he’d agreed. At the suggestion of the women, they’d gone to a small, quiet place with good food and white tablecloths, but a relaxed atmosphere, with live background music. His designated date was attractive and pleasant. It should have been a nice time, but he kept wondering why he was there. It wasn’t for sex—that had been established—and it damn sure wasn’t for a relationship. Even if he had been looking for a relationship, he wouldn’t be looking in New York City.
Unless Evie was in New York. If she moved to New York and opened a pie shop, he’d tell Miles to do whatever it took to get him a contract with the Big Apples. Or the Minutes. He’d buy a heavier coat and a snow shovel and smile while he was doing it.
If you’d be willing to do that, why aren’t you doing anything now?
That was a decent question, one he didn’t have a decent answer for—or maybe he did. He wasn’t doing anything because he didn’t know what to do. Besides, she’d been perfectly clear. He’d screwed up and he wasn’t going to get a do-over.
He needed some advice from someone other than Robbie—someone who might actually be helpful. He’d briefly thought about asking Hyacinth or Ava Grace, but decided that would be a trip to hell on a bad road.
Addison. He couldn’t explain why he picked up his phone and called her. It was instinct, not unlike what he felt on the ice when he suddenly knew what he had to do.
She answered on the first ring. “Hello, brother of mine.”
“Sorry to call you at work.”
“No problem. I’ve been chasing my fanny for weeks, but things have settled down now.”
“I guess rush has kept you busy there in Omega Beta Gamma land.”
“Recruitment, Jake. We don’t call it rush anymore.”
“Whatever.”
“Sorry we haven’t talked lately. I’ve watched your games when I could. I know you’ve been busy, too.”
“I have.” He took a deep breath. “Addison, I
want to ask you something.”
“Sure. I’ll tell you, if I know.”
“Why didn’t Channing ask Evie to be a bridesmaid in our wedding?” This could lead to something useful. He knew it just as surely as he sometimes knew that the puck was going to go in the second he touched his stick to it.
“Channing didn’t tell you at the time?”
“I didn’t question Channing on the details of the wedding. The less I talked about it, the better I liked it.”
“Why are you wondering after all this time?”
“I just am.”
She sighed. “I don’t have a good answer for you. Channing mentioned in passing she was having her sorority sisters. I don’t think she willfully excluded Evie; she just didn’t think about her. Mama worried about it at the time, but Channing and her mother made it clear the wedding was their show and they were going to run it.”
“At least you thought about it. That was more than I did.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. I didn’t question Channing either. Like a lot of people, I was bowled over by her. She was good to me, always swore that I was her sister beyond Omega, beyond blood. And I bought it.”
“I know.” He had not called to talk about Channing, but his gut told him this was going somewhere. “She’s charming. Miss Congeniality and all that.”
“I’ve thought about it a lot, Jake. Charm means telling people what they want to hear, whether it’s the truth or not. Channing was a master.” She made a sound that was a mixture of a huff and a laugh. “People would line up to let that girl lie to them. At least when she was lying to you, she was talking to you. I’ve stood in that line. I’m not proud of it. And what she told me wasn’t true. She did not love me. She was not my sister forever. Of course, all that was just a postscript to what she did to you.”
“I had no idea this affected you so much,” he said slowly.
Sweet as Pie Page 28