Page 24 of The Match

Oh no. What have I done?

CHAPTER 11

Jake

I’m standing across the kitchen, watching as Evie finishes painting the last fingernail on Sam’s hand. Sam is smiling from ear to ear, and she keeps looking up at Evie with a studying look as if she’s memorizing every tiny thing Evie does so that she can perfectly replicate her actions later. Sam adores Evie, that much is apparent. And honestly, I understand the sentiment.

The woman is gorgeous. Funny. Strong. Kind-hearted. She lives with a difficult disability and thrives. And she has the most tempting full pink lips I’ve ever seen. Okay, I doubt that Sam has noticed that last part, but believe me, I have.

Did I mention that Evie is painting a rainbow pattern on Sam’s nails? That probably doesn’t seem like a big thing, but for my little girl who has resisted everything happy and cheerful since her diagnosis, it’s huge.

I was quiet during dinner, partly because I have no idea how to interact with Evie, but also because I was enjoying hearing my daughter talk. I didn’t realize how starved I was for the sound of her voice. It wasn’t heavy with sadness like it has been lately. She didn’t give short, clipped answers. She told Evie things that I had no idea about. (Jenna Miller already got her first kiss?! Where have

I been? And isn’t ten years old a little young for that?)

Evie should have been bored by a young girl’s monologue on preteen romance, but she wasn’t. She was enthralled, sitting on the edge of her seat, one leg propped under her (I’m realizing Evie will never sit normally in a chair) and those emerald eyes wide with interest. I was floored when she asked Sam if there were any boys she was interested in. Even more floored when Sam said yes.

Note to self: hunt down Tate Bradley and explain to him in perfect detail what will happen to him if his lips get anywhere near my little girl.

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 wonderful. I bet she has drooling men trailing after her everywhere she goes. Her options are endless right now, and there’s no way she’d ever want to settle for a guy with as much baggage as I’m carrying. When it comes to Evie Jones, I am nothing but a blob of insecurity.

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?

“Dad, 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, cutie.”

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

While I’m rinsing the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher, I’m aware that I should feel nervous at 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.

And as I’m loading the last bowl into the dishwasher, Evie’s white running shoes enter my sights. I know for a fact I’ve never been so excited to see a pair of 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. I’ve been trying and it’s not working. If she’s up for a friendship, so am I. But only 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, 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 looks 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 freezes. She looks uncomfortable. “Do you mean you want me to wait for my Uber outside and not in your house?”

“What? God 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.”

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