Page 17 of Home Sweet Home

Evie raised an eyebrow. “Your knee is a she?”

“Why not?”

He moved to stand up again, but Evie held out her arm, keeping him in his chair. “I’ll get the beers.”

“I can—” he started, but Evie’s feet were already leading the way to the kitchen by memory. The kitchen was the same, too, though the refrigerator looked newer. Stainless steel with double doors and the freezer on the bottom, it was the kind Evie drooled over while scrolling Home Depot’s website at night, torturing herself by checking out stuff she would never be able to afford.

She grabbed two beers, and as she was about to close the door, she noticed a jar sitting on the shelf.

“Since when does Della make bread?” Evie asked back in West’s room, handing him a beer.

He twisted the cap off, his eyes narrowing as he took a long drink.

“You have sourdough starter in your fridge.”

“Oh. That’s Bubbles,” West said. “She’s mine. Brought her with me from LA.”

As Evie sank back down onto West’s bed, she couldn’t have been more surprised if he told her he had a third nipple. “You make bread?”

“Had a lot of time on my hands the last few months.” He shrugged. There was something just under the surface. If Evie reached a little deeper, she might pull it up, but then he twisted in his chair and grabbed a paper out of the desk drawer. “League schedule. As promised.”

Evie examined it. “Games twice a week.”

“Get a few weeks of practice before games, though. And we’ll need it to get the boys into shape.”

“Practice every other day except Saturday?” Evie asked. “In the late afternoon. So it’s not so hot.”

She’d come to establish a practice schedule with West, and she held her breath, hoping he would agree to her suggestion. She needed practice to be after two, otherwise she wouldn’t get off work in time to make it. Saturday was her day off at Joe’s too, so if it worked for West, it meant she would have one whole day to herself each week.

West shrugged. “Your ship, Peach.”

And just like that, the next two months of her life were settled. Inhaling as deeply as she could, Evie reminded herself why she was doing it. “First game is against Bend in three weeks. We’ll need a bus.”

West grinned, his tongue pressing up against his cheek. “That might be a problem. You see, I’ve gotten pretty used to private jets.”

It wasn’t lost on Evie that even if everyone in Creek Water pooled their earthly possessions, they couldn’t afford even one private jet. She folded up the schedule and tucked it into her pocket. “Best I can do is a school bus and Arlene.”

West leaned back, his hands behind his head as he stretched. “Arlene? She’s got to be pushing—what? Eighty, now? Used to hit every trash can in town.”

“Well, Bend’s down the highway, so no trash cans,” Evie said, trying her best to hide her annoyance. “Problem solved.” West put his hand over his mouth, holding back a laugh, his gaze focused on her face. “What?”

“You’ve got that look.”

She knew she would regret it, but she asked, “What look?”

“You know.” He raised his eyebrows high on his face, lips pursed as though a skunk had sprayed nearby. “Same one you put on whenever I tried to object to your tyranny in my car.”

“That’s not what my face looks like.” Evie crossed her arms over her chest like the gesture could protect her from his accusation.

“It is. When Evie Cauley looks at you disapprovingly, you never forget it. Seared in my brain. Sometimes when I miss pitches I should’ve hit, I see that look on your face.”

Her heart skipped at the thought that she ran through his mind when he was playing, that he’d thought about her at all over the past decade. But she tamped it down, because he was making a joke, exaggerating to prove a point, and that was all there was to it.

There was one more thing she needed to ask him, and it killed her. She cleared her throat, the beer suddenly as thick as milk. “How do I get paid? Is this like a check situation?”

West’s eyebrows pulled together like he was confused until seconds later, his brain caught up. “Right. Hold on.” He rooted around in the desk drawer, pulled out a small white envelope, and handed it to her.

Evie opened the envelope. Inside was a check, and on the top right, it said West Hawthorne and had an LA address. “This is a personal check.”

---