Page 45 of The Match

Speaking of real, Jake takes my hand and guides me into the house. We’re holding hands and walking into a family event. This doesn’t feel like friendship. This feels like dating. But are we? I’ve never felt more confused in my life. I also love Jake’s hands. You would think from all the calluses that he’s a contractor instead of an architect.

We walk through the front door, and Jake only drops my hand to take the brownies from me and set them on the counter. He made fun of me for putting up a big fuss about taking the brownies back to my place so I could bring them over again today. That way everyone would see that I was contributing something to the party. I’m disappointed that no one is here to witness my contribution. Now it just looks like the brownies were here all along!

“Wait. Let’s go back and ring the doorbell so everyone can see me bring in the brownies.”

“You don’t have to come bearing brownies for them to like you.”

“But when has bringing brownies ever hurt anyone’s chances of likability?”

In the next moment, the back sliding door opens, and I’m out of time. I lunge for the brownies so I can hold them in front of me like a peace offering, but Jake is one step ahead and blocks the brownies. Now it looks like I’m lunging for him. Wonderful. He takes it in stride, though, and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me pinned to his side. Must get to the brownies.

“Jake, you’re back!” says a little blond woman in a voice that is southern and sweet as iced tea. I don’t know why, but I did not imagine Jake’s mom sounding like Jo. Probably because Jake barely has an accent. But it’s clear from her teased-up hair and drawn-out r’s and a’s that she’s as country as bread pudding at a church potluck.

“Oh, and Evie, honey! You made it!” I don’t think anyone has ever sounded so pleased to meet me in my entire life. Even when I was still wrapped up in my parents’ world as a socialite, no one seemed happy to have me around. I was just another pawn to move around the room. Another person with money and influence to watch their back around. Even when someone was smiling at me I felt loathed.

“EVERYONE! EVIE IS HERE!” she bellows toward the back door.

I’m glad I’m only wearing a bathing suit under this cover-up, because there is definitely some back sweat starting to happen.

“Hi! It’s so nice to mee—”

“Evie!” Sam bursts through the door with Daisy at her side and throws her arms around my waist.

Jake doesn’t let go of me. So, I’m just standing here with one Broaden wrapped around my upper half and another Broaden wrapped around my lower half. And then, suddenly, all the other Broadens are watching, and I’m hyperaware of the picture we must be painting.

“Who’s here? Oh, Evie!” says a happy middle-aged man who comes to stand next to Mrs. Broaden. He looks a lot like Jake.

There are now four other women filing into the kitchen, followed by a trail of various-aged children and spouses to look on too. They are all saying hi and smiling so brightly, and the room is spinning. Why do they all look so happy to meet me? And how does my name sound so comfortable on the lips of people I’ve never met before?

But when Jake squeezes my shoulder, I feel like everything shifts into place. Like one glorious line of Tetris when you can get all the shapes to fit perfectly together. He really likes me. Jacob Broaden likes me. He’s told his family all about me. He’s standing proudly beside me and not letting me go.

Maybe our kiss really was the beginning of something.

The introductions are complete, and I have been given a moment to catch my breath by the pool. Jake and his dad are over by the grill, tossing hot dogs and hamburgers on, and Sam and a few of her cousins are swimming in the pool.

Turns out, Jake has the sweetest family on the face of the earth, and I had nothing to worry about. Who knew that there were people out there with families who actually love one another without secret agendas?

I pull my towel out of my tote bag and drape it over a pool chair. I find myself smiling at the sounds of splashing and laughter. Growing up as an only child with two very formal and career-driven parents meant the only sounds that usually filled our house were that of Dad typing on a laptop and Mom gossiping with her other elitist minions on the phone. Exciting stuff.

“Soooo,” says Jake’s sister June as she plops down, stomach first, onto the pool chair beside me. She has a beautiful big sunflower tattoo that caps her shoulder. “You’re the hottie with the body that my big brother keeps talking about.”

My eyes are the size of oranges.

A shadow falls over me. Jake appears out of nowhere, towering beside my lounge chair. “I never called her that!” he says to his sister before looking down at me. “I never called you that.”

June huffs an offended sound. “So, you’re saying she doesn’t have a hot body? How rude, Jake.”

He gives June a look, and now I’m stuck between two siblings in a game of monkey in the middle. “Cut it out, June.”

“You’re not helping your case. Evie is going to leave today completely sure you don’t think her body is hot. But she looks like she knows better than to care what you think anyway.”

I’m struggling so hard to keep a laugh from bursting free.

“She’s not going to think that.” I like the way Jake’s face is turning the tiniest bit pink, and I wonder if I can push it over the top to red.

I give him a pouty look and decide Jake needs to be the one in the middle now. “I am sort of feeling like you think I’m a troll under a bridge.”

He’s glaring at me but clearly trying not to grin. “Fine, I’ll give. Evie . . . you’ve got a hot body.” Bingo! Jacob Broaden is capable of turning bright red, folks!

---