Chapter 22 Evie
Evie
That had been…
Super intense.
A little scary.
Really, really hot.
I pressed my thighs together, trying not to squirm as Chance’s leg brushed against mine. Evie shouldn’t have told him where we would be. I was avoiding him for a reason, and that reason didn’t make as much sense when he was sitting so close.
Looking all sweaty and dusty and freaking delicious.
The way he jumped up and got rid of that sleazeball, how he just took charge of the situation, wrapped his large hands around the asshole’s neck and steered him exactly where he wanted him.
A thrill raced up and down my spine, my heart pounding in anything but fear.
When he commanded the other guy to apologize, I felt a pulse in my core.
He did that for me.
And I kinda wanted him to do it again.
Damn, traitorous body. Annoying hormones and wanting to jump the man who had just made a person bow to my sister and me. Bow. OMG. I thought I was going to combust on the spot.
No. I was not going to melt for the guy who had allowed his mother to blatantly disrespect us only days before. That was not okay.
Apparently, I was a grudge holder.
A plate of fries was placed on the table, along with a Diet Coke for Chance. Evy stuffed two into her mouth, her gaze dancing from me to Chance as if she could see the electrical currents that sizzled around us. I shoved a fry into my own mouth then threw one at my twin.
This was all her fault. She shouldn’t have accidentally, totally on purpose, texted him. Sisters were annoying.
Sometimes.
“Is this all you two ordered?” Chance grumbled, frowning at our huge plate of fries.
“I had a late lunch with Mila at the boutique,” Evy explained.
“Why aren’t you eating more than fries, peaches?”
“How is that your business?” I pushed another fry into my mouth, chewing angrily.
“Peaches,” he growled. Another shiver climbed my spine. It wasn’t fair that he had such a sexy voice.
Evy’s foot tapped my leg beneath the table, steadying me. “She’s been getting food shoved at her all day long by the chef at work. Yesterday, she brought home a quart of this amazing autumn squash soup and these homemade cheesy croutons. I only got one bowl of it.”
“It’s not my fault Reid is a pig,” I sucked the excess grease and salt off my thumb.
She was right, though. It was the best soup I’d ever eaten.
When Marcy pushed the container into my hands with a bag of fresh croutons, I’d done a little dance all the way out to my Jeep.
Working at Sanctuary was fulfilling in more than one way.
The shelter’s cook was going to give me a big ass, and I didn’t even care.
“For today’s afternoon snack, Marcy made these bacon-wrapped apple things with cheese.
” My eyes nearly crossed, remembering how amazing the food had been.
“I ate like twelve of them. To be fair, she kept shoving them at me, so it wasn’t as if I was gorging on purpose.
I think I was talking too much, and it was her way of telling me to please shut up. ”
“You could never talk too much, peaches. I love the sound of your voice.”
There he went, being all sweet, making it harder to hold that grudge.
“Kiss-ass,” Evy snickered. “But he’s also right. Your voice is one of my favorite sounds in the world.”
“Wait, are you working at Sanctuary?” Chance shifted, his leg pressing roughly against mine as he turned so his big body was angled toward me. “How did I not know this?”
“It wasn’t like you asked personal questions.
” He winced, his throat bobbing slightly, remorse filling his eyes.
I hadn’t expected him to want to get to know me.
All those women at Hannigans’ had made sure I knew the score where this man was concerned.
And then his mother had hardcore reinforced that.
“How long have you been working there?” he asked.
“I started yesterday. Nishia put in a good word for me.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it there. Everyone is amazing. All my coworkers are fantastic.” I’d also met a few of the residents.
If I hadn’t known before that social work was where I belonged, I did after meeting those women.
In only two days of working at Sanctuary, I already felt like I was making a difference in small ways in someone’s life.
Each time I walked through the front door of my new job, it seemed like William’s voice grew a little quieter in my head.
“I usually take the Sunday shifts, walking the perimeter, making sure there aren’t any security issues. Marcy makes a huge dinner every Sunday.” His eyes drew me in. Those lighter lines of blue stole my focus, making me wish for things I knew better than to hope for.
It hurt.
I hated that I wanted him. That no matter what I was doing or where I was, he popped into my head so effortlessly. I hated him for making my heart fucking yearn for him.
“Sundays are our days,” Evy announced, unashamedly popping three fries into her mouth at once. “We already decided that, didn’t we, Evie?”
“Yes. Sundays are twin days. Just us. Always and forever.”
“But she works at Sanctuary Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. In-person classes on Mondays and Fridays.”
I kicked my sister, not hard, but not gentle either. Why was she giving him my schedule, dang it?
Not that I expected him to remember it or anything. No doubt he’d forget about it in five minutes, tops.
Our waitress appeared again, setting down a plate. Mashed potatoes with extra gravy, a serving of green beans, and something battered and deep-fried. It looked like a chicken cutlet but smelled like beef.
“Chicken-fried steak,” Evy said, making it sound like she was making a snide comment on Chance’s food choices, but really, she’d seen my curiosity and didn’t want me to be embarrassed because I didn’t know what was being served.
Chance cut into the meat, and my mouth watered. He scooped a little of the mashed potatoes onto the steak then lifted his fork.
To my mouth.
Without hesitation, I opened and accepted the bite, a helpless moan escaping me before I could control myself.
“Oh my God,” I whined as I chewed, eyes closed, hands moving in front of my mouth.
To savor the moment. To ward off more unexpected, though perfectly seasoned deliciousness. “What witchcraft is this?”
Evy was noticeably quiet across from me.
Lifting my lashes, I found myself closer to Chance, his face barely an inch away.
Those lighter-blue lines in his eyes seemed to glow, stealing my ability to think, to form words.
His nose playfully bumped mine, the scruff on his jaw brushing against my cheek.
I had a mouthful of food. No way he wanted to kiss me. He wouldn’t. He—
Kissing the corner of my mouth, he sat back, shoveling a big bite of food into his mouth.
A refilled glass of Diet Coke was shoved into my hand. Evy told a random story about a customer that had no point. She was just filling the silence. I ignored the rest of the fries, drank the rest of my fresh Diet Coke, and stayed quiet for the remainder of the meal, lost in my head.
Stuck.
On that kiss.
What did it mean?
Why?
Why did he have to make me feel wanted, needed, like I might be enough—when I knew I wasn’t?