Page 70 of Home Sweet Home

Nothing else existed. Not Josh, who was definitely in the other room and who could come out at any moment. Not that West was leaving in a few weeks. Her bedroom, though, did exist, and she found herself wondering how many steps it was from the table to her bed and how quiet they would have to be.

Somewhere, a door slammed. It took her a beat to notice, and by the time she did, footsteps approached the kitchen. She looked at West, who had frozen, but after a second, he helped her off the table. Her feet touched the ground a moment before a shadow appeared in the doorframe.

“Well, hi there,” her dad said.

Evie crossed her arms across her chest to hide the fact that her bra was still unhooked. “Dad, this is West. West, Dad.”

“I’ll be damned,” Evie’s dad said, holding out his palm. “Heard lots about you.”

West took her father’s hand and gave it a shake, grinning at Evie out of the side of his mouth. “That right?”

“Absolutely not,” Evie said, wishing that birthday wishes were like genies, as in she got multiple of them. Then she could go back in time and make hers again, and this time be smart enough to add the caveat that her dad wouldn’t interrupt.

Her dad opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “What are you two up to?”

“Uh,” Evie said, but her brain was lagging five minutes behind, still sitting on the table with West’s hand up her shirt.

“Evie was teaching me how to bake a cake,” West said, tipping his head toward the cake. “The one I made wasn’t fit for human consumption, apparently.”

Evie’s dad chuckled, his eyebrows pulling together as he looked over their cake. “What happened to the frosting?”

On the cake front, what had been smooth, white buttercream and a few pink roses was now a smudged mess. The back of Evie’s shirt was heavy, and when she reached her fingers back, they touched something sticky. She’d been leaning on the cake the whole time and hadn’t noticed.

“That was the half I frosted,” West said, raising his right hand and wiggling his fingers. “Good at throwing, bad at piping.”

Evie’s dad plopped a finger into the one of the messed-up spots on the icing and stuck it in his mouth. “Well, it tastes damn good. We’re grilling up some steaks for Evie’s birthday. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Dad—” Evie started.

“I’d love to,” West said.

Her dad grinned, and as he moved to leave the kitchen, Evie turned her back so he couldn’t see the frosting. “I’ll go light up the grill.”

Once her dad was gone, Eve said, “You don’t have to stay.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up. “Try and stop me.”

* * *

West Hawthorne devouredsteak like it was the only food left in the world, stealing glances at Evie between bites, each one raising her body temperature half a degree.

“Couldn’t tell you how many I’ve gotten kicked out of,” her dad said, taking a swig of his third beer. “This one in South Dakota, I stepped a foot in the door, and this dude, must have been a foot taller than you, booted my ass clean out. Automatic doors hadn’t even had time to shut yet.”

She wasn’t sure whether it was the two beers she’d had or the euphoria she felt from what had almost happened with West. Maybe it was the warm summer breeze blowing through the evening sky, clouds fluffy and swirling with the light blues and pinks of cotton candy. Whatever it was, her dad’s stories seemed funnier than she remembered. Even Josh had laughed, though he tried to hide it behind his fork.

When everyone finished their food, Evie brought out the cake she and West had made. Remembering the source of the imperfection, she smiled at the smeared frosting before handing West the knife she’d carried out.

“It’s your birthday,” he said, trying to hand it back.

Evie shook her head. “Have to cut your first cake. It’s an official baking rule.”

He gave her a look, but he sliced the cake clean down the middle.

“Is this better than the one he made?” Josh asked. “Because I almost threw up after that one.”

West raised an eyebrow. “I’ll remember that at practice tomorrow. And your sister helped me make it, so I have a hunch it’s gonna be the most delicious damn thing you ever ate.”

West handed out slices, giving Evie the first one. It was moist and airy, the icing creamy and not too sweet, the whole thing a perfectly balanced ratio of buttercream to cake. It was heaven, and Evie watched eagerly as West took his first bite, remembering what he’d said about how happy it made her to watch people eat something she’d made and love it.

---