Page 54 of The Match

She’s in for a treat if she thinks, for one second, that I won’t be sitting a row behind her at the movies on her first date.

Sam jumps out of my truck with Daisy in tow and her bag strapped on her back. She darts toward the house with one of her friends who has also just told her parents to keep the car running and drive off as soon as her feet hit the grass. But my kid—the good one—pauses and looks over her shoulder at me. She comes sprinting back and jumps up onto the running board of my truck to kiss my cheek through the open window. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Sam. Have fun. Call me if . . .” I let the statement dangle because, somehow, I’m afraid that if I say the words out loud, I’ll be responsible for a seizure if she has one.

She smiles and nods. “I will.”

And then my little girl goes into her friend’s house for her first ever slumber party. My heart squeezes painfully. I’m glad now more than ever that I had the forethought to plan a date to distract me tonight.

I put the truck in drive, and I’m headed home to get ready for my date with Evie when my phone buzzes with an incoming text. A text that makes my heart drop into my stomach.

NATALIE: Headed back from Hawaii soon. Thinking of coming to visit when I get back. Hug Samantha for me. <3

CHAPTER 24

Evie

Jake asked if I wanted him to come pick me up for our date, but I thought it would be silly for him to come all the way over to my place and get me, only to drive right back to his house. We went three rounds until he gave up and let me call an Uber. But he was adamant that he was going to pay for it.

The Uber pulls up in front of Jake’s magazine-worthy farmhouse, and I’m still in disbelief that I even get to go inside this home, let alone date the man who owns it. (I’m not after Jake for his money or his belongings, though—I’m after his abs.)

Charlie and I get out of the Uber, and I tug down the hem of my floral-print midi dress. I even took the time to curl my hair in long, loose waves. Sure, they’ll fall over the course of the next hour, but for now I’m feeling like a walking ad for a beachy-waves hair product, and I wonder how I got so lucky to not wake up with a zit today. Life is on my side.

Everything feels too good. I’m still waiting for that hammer to drop while also trying to be more optimistic like Jo suggested.

I ring the doorbell and count the seconds it takes for Jake to answer the door, using the frantic beats of my heart as a guide. Ten.

As he’s opening the door, my nervousness ratchets up, and I wonder if it’s too late to play ding-dong-ditch and hide in the bushes. Yes, too late. He’s seen me. And oh boy, do I see him.

“Hi.” His voice is so sultry and warm, and that one word holds so much promise. He puts the guy from the restaurant’s paltry little hi to shame. Jake is so tall and muscular, and he’s wearing a form-fitting, slate-blue shirt. A sexy day-old stubble covers his jaw. His jeans are dark and trim, and I’m sure that he has them tailored to fit him like a glove. I like this look on him. No, I love it.

“Hi yourself,” I say, and nope, sultry doesn’t sound good on me. I sound drunk and like I have a throat bubble.

I’m just considering jumping into the bushes again when Jake steps out to where I’m standing and slides his arm around my waist. He leans down and brushes my cheek with a kiss from his deliciously scratchy jaw and whispers in my ear, “You look beautiful.”

Well, okay, then. I guess I’ll stay.

He releases me to pat Charlie on the head and then takes my hand, pulling me inside. I smell herbs and spices and hear a Leon Bridges song playing softly from the speakers in the ceiling. It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s put on the very album I was listening to the night he came over.

The lights are dimmer than normal, and my body is hyperaware that Sam is not home, and this is officially Jake the Man’s house and not Jake the Dad. My nerves are humming, and buzzing, and ping-ponging with excitement, and suddenly I don’t know what to do with my hands. There are no pockets on this dress, so I’m forced to clasp them behind me.

“Come on in. I’m just finishing up a few things.” He goes into the kitchen, and I follow a few paces behind him, afraid to say anything.

Someone please tell me what to do right now! I’ve stood in this kitchen dozens of times. I’ve spent the last few weeks talking to Jake every single day. But this feels different. The air is different. It’s rich with anticipation. It’s whispering memories of the night in my apartment.

It’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. Even longer since I’ve been on a date with a man I liked. Or a man who looked and acted like Jake. No one should look that sexy holding a ladle and stirring a pot. He’s a safety hazard.

I decide to give in to my awkwardness and plaster myself in the farthest corner of his kitchen. The cold marble cuts through the fabric of my dress and stings at my lower back, but I don’t care. I’m not moving.

“How was Sam when you dropped her off?” Sam seems like the safest conversational avenue.

Jake taps the wooden spoon against the side of the pot and sets it down. He takes note of me standing all the way across the room and smirks. “Great. She looked so happy running in with all her friends. I’m glad I let her go.” He goes toward the fridge and pulls out a bottle of white wine. How did he know that was my favorite? “Want a glass?”

“Yes!” I didn’t mean to shout that.

He smiles and pours but stays put where he is. “Here you go.”

He holds the glass out in front of him but doesn’t take a single step toward me. I know what he’s doing. It’s a bribe to get me away from my private island, and I have no choice but to comply if I want that wine. And I do want it.

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