Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
EVIE
Shepherd had ghosted her.
Or had he?
If Evie was honest with herself, all he’d done was go back to treating her exactly the same way he always had before the kiss that had made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years, so it was stupid to feel rebuffed by it. They weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t… anything.
Barely even friends, really.
So what if his lips had made her toes curl and her panties damp?
It hadn’t meant anything, and it didn’t need to.
Just one person comforting another when they were down.
The only good thing about it was it had taken her mind off Ollie.
She’d received a single cursory message from Adrian saying they’d arrived safely, that he’d return Oliver on December 28th, as planned, and wouldn’t be responding to any more calls or messages because ‘he was on holiday, damn it’.
That’s how Evie tried to think of it anyway, after the glow rubbed off and she realized it wasn’t the fluttery, fledgling start of something.
Which was why, three days later, she accepted a date with Asher when he asked… if it was actually a date, and not her reading into things like she’d done with Shepherd.
Besides, Shepherd couldn’t have been clearer. He’d been blunt and told her it was a mistake.
Evie had taken it on the chin, sucked it up, then popped to the coffee shop like she always did during her mid-morning lull.
She’d seen Shepherd through the window, so knew he was there… Then she’d seen him hurry into the back room, leaving Joe, one of his baristas, to serve her.
“Is Shepherd free?” She’d asked it lightly, like it wasn’t a big deal, and the guy had looked waaay uncomfortable before telling her he was ‘unavailable’.
Perhaps she was just plain dumb, but Evie stood her ground and hadn’t backed down. “Can you let him know I’ve put aside some of his favorite cinnamon rolls. It’s my special Christmas batch, but they sell like hot cakes.”
She’d laughed at her own joke, while Joe looked everywhere but her, casting his eyes to the back room a couple of times, and didn’t even chuckle.
Evie had taken her pumpkin spice latte and tried not to read anything into it.
Shepherd didn’t show up for the cinnamon rolls, but hey, perhaps they got busy and Joe forgot to mention it.
The next day was pretty much a carbon copy of the last, except this time, Evie asked. “Did you give Shepherd the message yesterday?”
Joe looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Again, his eyes swept nervously to the back room. “Of course I did.”
This time, Evie got the message too.
Had it hurt her feelings? Yes. She’d be lying if she denied her already battered self-esteem hadn’t taken another hit.
Wasn’t she good enough? Adrian didn’t think so.
The realization that her already-tattered sense of self-worth could be further crumpled surprised her less than the fact that there was anything still left to crumple.
The Shepherd situation was just the latest insult, but the wound was older and deeper, festering since before the ink dried on her divorce paperwork.
Adrian’s departure had left a crater where her confidence should be—a hollow ring of self-doubt that echoed with every perceived slight, every unreturned message, every look that lingered anywhere but on her.
Shepherd’s avoidance was just another stone tossed into the void. She wasn’t the type of woman men lusted after - women like Victoria and Brandi, who might have been poured from the same mold. A skinny, glamorous mold.
Evie was a small-town homebody. A mother who loved baking. Adrian had been blunt about her inadequacies; her curvy figure, her ‘Mom’ persona, her lack of ambition to live a glitzy life outside Frostvale.
Shepherd’s approach was the subtler, more refined art of making himself invisible until the very molecules of his presence evaporated from her orbit.
And yet, despite all this, Evie couldn’t keep herself from hoping for more with each new encounter, like a moth repeatedly flinging itself at a heatless light.
Did that make her a fool? She hoped not.
Evie didn’t want to be like Shepherd, living a lonely, grumpy life and running for the hills at the first sign of connection. She desperately wanted to believe there was someone out there specially for her.
So she tried to rationalize it. Maybe she was just misreading things, projecting her own expectations onto people who never asked her to.
Maybe Shepherd really was just busy, or maybe he’d been burned one too many times and was only protecting himself from yet another complicated entanglement.
But the excuses felt thin, like the translucency of spun sugar—beautiful in concept, fragile in reality.
They dissolved the moment she was alone with her thoughts, making her second-guess herself again as she cycled through her conduct that morning.
Did she sound desperate? Was her joke about “selling like hot cakes” the final nail in the coffin of her dignity?
She replayed every beat, every line of dialogue, every flick of Joe’s eyes to the back room.
It all pointed to one thing… she wasn’t wanted, not by Shepherd, anyway.
It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
So when Asher stopped by the bakery to drop off a new order for gingerbread men for the kids in his toy store, ‘the kind with the little marshmallow buttons,’ he’d specified, in a delightfully earnest way, Evie, still raw from Shepherd’s ghosting, found herself laughing too loudly at Asher’s jokes and matching his easy enthusiasm with a brightness she didn’t quite feel.
When he’d asked if she wanted to ‘hang out’ sometime, she’d said yes without hesitation.
Maybe it was a date, maybe it wasn’t, but it was forward motion, and that was enough for her.
She’d gone home that night and stared into her closet, contemplating what Frostvale considered appropriate for a first outing with the town’s most eligible toy store owner.
Something cute but not try-hard, festive but not costume-y, flattering but not like she was trying to rub it in someone’s face.
And yet, as she settled on her favorite berry-red sweater and lined her eyes with the thinnest trace of eyeliner, the doubts returned.
Was she enough? Would anyone ever see past her cheer, her relentless optimism, to the person underneath—the one who still woke up some nights convinced she’d been left for being too much?
Or maybe not enough.
It was a fine line to walk, and Evie knew she’d never mastered it. Still, she was determined to put on a good show, if only to convince herself.
She smoothed down her sweater, fussing with the decolletage as she peered at her reflection. Was this too casual for a date? Or was she overdressing? The uncertainty gnawed at her.
She hadn't been on a proper date in years. Not since before she married Adrian. The thought of putting herself out there again made her stomach churn with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
In the end, she rang Posy and decided to spill all to her friend, hoping for advice
In her agitated state, the familiar ringtone seemed to stretch on forever before Posy’s cheerful voice finally came through.
"Hey babe, what's up?" Posy chirped.
Evie let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I think I have a date with Asher. Maybe. Possibly? I'm not sure, and I'm freaking out a little."
She could practically hear Posy's eyebrows shooting up. "Whoa, back up. Start from the beginning, girlfriend.”
Evie paced her small bedroom as she recounted Asher's visit to the bakery and his invitation to ‘hang out.’ Her stomach did little flips as she described how flustered she'd felt, how she'd agreed without really thinking it through.
And how that was all because of kissing Shepherd and having him ghost her.
Her friend listened patiently, letting Evie's anxious words tumble out in a rush.
"And now I don't know what to wear, or how to act, or if I'm reading way too much into this," she finished, flopping down onto her bed with a sigh.
"Oh honey," Posy said when Evie finally paused for breath. "First of all, Shepherd is an idiot, and it sounds like he’s running scared, but that’s his loss and not on you whatsoever!”
Posy paused for a second for her words to sink in.
“Second - breathe. You've got this."
Evie inhaled deeply, trying to slow her racing heart.
"Now, did he actually use the word 'date'?"
Evie shook her head, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “No, that’s why I’m not sure what this is, and after misreading things with Shepherd… Well, I don’t want to make a fool of myself again.”
"Well, it definitely sounds like Asher was asking you on a date. That boy's been making googly eyes at you for ages."
"Really?" Evie blinked in surprise. She'd never noticed.
"Trust me. And as for what to wear - that red sweater is perfect. Festive but not over the top."
Evie glanced down at herself, smoothing the soft fabric. "You think so?"
"Absolutely. You look gorgeous in it. Now stop second-guessing yourself and have fun!"
After hanging up, Evie felt marginally calmer. She applied a swipe of lip gloss, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door before she could talk herself out of it.
Asher was sweet, she reminded herself. Fun and easygoing. This didn't have to be a big deal. Just two single adults enjoying each other’s company over dinner.