Chapter 10
Evie
The No Book Club was extra rowdy tonight.
We typically met in the tasting room at Etienne’s wine shop or in a small private space at the Drip Line, Frankie’s mom’s bar.
But tonight, my friends had come to me. I both appreciated the thoughtfulness and hated it.
Hosting meant I’d spent most of the afternoon cleaning up, but also that I could put Vincent to bed and hang out with my friends for a bit.
Sure, he’d need one more feeding before I went to sleep, but that wasn’t an issue. I didn’t want to brag, but this kid was already a champion sleeper. He was doing five-to-six-hour stretches once he got his top off around midnight.
Naturally, every guest showed up with wine, food, or presents for Vincent.
“I had to buy this,” Ruby gushed, showing me the tiny green sweatsuit she’d picked up. “And look at these sneakers!”
They were positively adorable. Even if he’d probably outgrow them in a hot minute. The kid was getting bigger every day.
The doctor was amazed by his weight gain. He got that from me, that’s for sure.
While we usually had more members, tonight, it was just the core group.
“You will die when you eat this Brie!” Basil declared as he set a delicious-looking salad on the countertop.
Wow. A salad should not look that pretty. Were those pomegranate seeds? His cooking and access to great cheese made him an MVP friend.
Ruby set up her portable Bluetooth speaker and turned on music, and within minutes, I was starting to feel like an actual adult again. For better or worse, these were my people.
When I’d picked up and moved to small-town Vermont, my friends and family thought I’d lost my mind.
I’d spent so many years being overworked and depressed. And so much time questioning who I was and what I was doing. Feeling bad for myself as I scrolled through the wedding announcements and photos and gender reveal parties all my high school and college friends posted.
I wallowed. For a long-ass time.
Eventually, though, I realized I had a freedom none of them had. So I changed my mindset.
So many people dreamed of blowing up their lives and taking off. Going somewhere new, starting fresh.
And I was one of the lucky few who could actually do it.
My therapist told me to list the things that made me feel happy and put them in a journal.
During that exercise, the tiny town in Vermont I’d visited with friends came to me. We were here for my friend Liz’s bachelorette weekend. We’d stayed at the most gorgeous inn and spa and spent our days hiking and sipping maple lattes.
On that trip, I’d felt like myself for the first time in years.
So I called my sister Giovanna, one of New York’s most successful and ruthless headhunters, and told her to find a job for me in Vermont.
My older sister, while not big on empathy or quality time, delivered in a big way. And within a few months, I was packing up and heading north.
Marketing for the financial services industry was a hell of a lot different from maple syrup, but numbers were numbers, and this job made me feel more empowered and creative every day.
Not long after I’d moved into my little bungalow, I saw a flier for the No Book Club in the coffee shop, and it piqued my interest. Joining a book club was the exact kind of thing the new small-town, relaxed Evie would do.
Once upon a time, it had actually been a book club, but the members had vastly different tastes, making it difficult to choose books, so the group descended into chaos. Eventually, they revamped, and now we read any book we want and then show up.
Or we didn’t. There was no rule stating that a member must read a book to attend. Which was great for moments like this, because I didn’t even have time to shower, let alone read.
Our get-togethers consisted mainly of eating snacks and gossiping, with a side of random activities. Like the time Dr. Chao, I mean Liz, convinced us to go line dancing in Birch Hollow.
Last fall, Frankie had talked us into driving down to Springfield for a monster truck rally. It was an experience, for sure.
It took some time, but once I was settled here, I began to discover myself and make the most incredible friends.
As we chatted and ate and admired the adorable baby clothes, I was filled with warmth and contentment.
“Are we going to talk about your handsome squatter?” Etienne asked, gazing out the back window to where Jasper’s tent was set up. “Didn’t realize you were living together.”
My stomach lurched. “We’re not.”
“She lets him sleep in the yard, like a dog,” Frankie said. “Best place for him.”
Basil rolled his eyes with a huff. Frankie’s anti-man stance was nothing new.
“He wants to be close by to help out,” I said. Yes, it was weird, but in a way, it kind of made sense. “He works twenty-four-hour shifts, so he wants to get as much time with Vincent as he can.”
Basil nodded, though his expression was skeptical. He was clearly not buying what I was selling. “Where is he now?”
“At the farm. He works there with his brother doing…” My voice trailed off. What did he do there? Honestly, aside from tapping the trees and collecting sap, I didn’t have the first clue.
I knew a lot about maple syrup. It came with the job description. But I didn’t know much about how we got the sap or how the land and trees were cultivated.
The Lawrence farm was big. I knew that. And they had several employees. Jasper had mentioned that his brother had bought the adjacent farm from their aunt and uncle when they were ready to retire.
“You haven’t been?” he asked, one brow cocked. “It’s not that far.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been holed up here with Vincent, and Jasper always comes to us.”
Damn, out loud, that sounded shitty. The farm was part of Jasper’s identity, and I’d never taken Vincent there. Jasper hadn’t really even pushed me to introduce him to his family.
It occurred to me, as I surveyed his little campsite, that he was making all the effort.
My heart sank. Wow. When had I turned into such a selfish person?
“Seriously? You could be out there watching that man throw hay bales and chop wood, and you’ve elected not to?” Ruby practically shouted. “You need your head examined.”
Basil clapped and let out a whoop of agreement.
“Ignore the horned-up pregnant woman,” Frankie said with a dismissive wave. “Her taste is questionable.”
Ruby’s taste was spot-on. Jasper was objectively attractive. The shoulders, the tattoos, the round eyes and sharp jawline. There was a reason I’d taken him home last year.
But his muscles weren’t what I dreamed about when my head finally hit the pillow at night. Night after night, my subconscious would conjure images of him cradling Vincent or attempting to teach him about The Lord of the Rings, despite this kid only now wobbly lifting his own head.
Or snapshots of his big, callused hands moving gently.
Which led to thoughts about how rough they could be.
And then I’d blush and give up the ghost.
Okay, I had a tiny crush on the man. So what? He brought me coffee and treats and soothed my screaming baby. Anyone in my situation would feel the same.
“You’re gonna marry him,” Basil declared, his chin lifted smugly.
Frankie gagged. “Ew, gross. I hope not. You can do better.”
After I’d been filled in on town gossip, we talked a little about the various books everyone had read and stuffed ourselves with yummy food.
Basil and Etienne said their goodbyes close to midnight, and once they were gone, I got Vincent up to change his diaper and feed him.
With any luck, once I topped him off, he’d sleep well and I could rest.
Frankie and Ruby were cleaning up the kitchen when I carried him to the couch, but the second he was latched, they pounced.
“We waited until the guys left,” Ruby said. “But it’s been almost two months, and we still don’t have details. So spill.”
“Yeah, we need to know how this”—Frankie nodded at the baby—“happened and if it’s in danger of happening again. We gotta protect you.”
“Or encourage you,” Ruby said with a wink.
Frankie crossed her arms and gave me a stern look. “Start talking, girlie.”
I looked down at Vincent, who was sleepily nursing, and my body relaxed. It did this at every feeding. Like, subconsciously, I was always afraid something would go wrong and he’d go hungry.
Oxytocin, the love hormone, flooded my veins as I fed him. I blame that for how easily I gave in to the inquisition of my friends.
“I’m surprised you’re not giving me a polygraph,” I joked.
“Polygraphs are for amateurs,” Frankie huffed. “You know I can get the truth out of you.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Fine.”
That night all those months ago had been hot and sticky. We’d been drinking and dancing, and my heart was full. Ruby was getting married, and I was surrounded by friends. It was the kind of experience I’d been chasing when I moved to Maplewood.
“At your bachelorette party,” I started. “We were all dancing.”
Ruby reeled back. “How did I miss this?”
“You’d already gone home to Paul,” Frankie explained. “The rest of us went over to Timberline. They had live music that night.”
The Timberline Brewery, located on the outskirts of town, had a massive party barn that hosted events most weekends. The band that night had played folksy, bluegrass versions of eighties hits, and I’d stayed on the dance floor for hours.
“I was having a good time. We were dancing, and I just felt this desire. I wanted him. You know?”
Ruby whistled, her eyes glimmering. Frankie, on the other hand, scowled.
Desire wasn’t something I’d had a lot of experience with. Yes, I’d been attracted to men from time to time, and that kind of sensation, in my experience, had always grown from those feelings.
But with Jasper, I’d barely known him, yet I’d wanted him. And it felt so liberating.
I licked my lips. “I’d written him off as a player.”
“He is a player,” Frankie replied
“But I was celebrating, and I wanted to be a little wild for once. I never let loose. I’m always following a plan, but that night, I wanted to explore something different.
When I moved here, I cut ties with a lot of toxic people, and since then, I’ve been trying to figure out who I am.
” My cheeks heated. “And having a hot guy all over me while this kind of desire that I’d only ever read about in books had taken over? I got swept up.”
“And you didn’t use protection?” Frankie tried to conceal the judgment in her tone, but it bled through anyway.
Ruby elbowed her.
“We did,” I said. “The first time.”
“There was more than one time?” Ruby’s smile grew.
I shrugged, my face flaming now, my whole body a little too warm, actually. There had definitely been more than one time. We laughed and fooled around and didn’t sleep. It was sexy and fun, and while the memories were hazy, my body remembered enough to torture me about it regularly.
“I’m going to need a number, please,” Ruby insisted, rubbing her hands together. “And I don’t mean a ballpark figure.”
I cringed, sinking a little deeper into the cushions. “Three? I think.”
“You fucked him three times in one night?” Frankie knocked her water bottle over, sending it rolling across the living room floor.
“Frankie,” Ruby admonished. “Please don’t break anything,”
“That’s not a one-night stand. That’s a fling,” my rough around the edges friend nearly shouted. “That’s a fucking sex marathon.”
It had been, and it was incredible.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it a few times in the months since.
“Look at her face. She’s still dickmatized.”
I nearly choked on my tongue. “I am not.” Careful not to jostle Vincent, I shifted in my seat.
The night was amazing, yes. It was wild, and I’d walked away with fun memories, but that was it. It wasn’t meant to be more than that. If anything, I was a little embarrassed by my actions afterward. I was normally controlled and strategic, but those senses were nowhere to be found.
“So you didn’t want a repeat? After three times, I can’t believe you didn’t go back for more. And he is right back there.” Ruby waved a hand, wildly gesturing to the backyard.
I shook my head violently. Nope that was not happening. “God no. We both went back to our lives.”
“But this is a small town.”
My chest ached the smallest bit, but I ignored the sensation.
“Not that small. It wasn’t that hard to avoid each other.
We weren’t friends. Didn’t run with the same groups.
We barely knew one another, and while I do see him around from time to time, my life is busy.
I just kind of blocked it all out. We’re cordial and pleasant, and that’s that. ”
Ruby stared at me, open mouthed, rubbing her belly.
“Basil’s right,” she said after a lengthy pause. “You guys are gonna get married. This is fate.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Let’s get you home, preggo. Your hormones are making you hallucinate.”
“No,” she argued.
The single sharp word startled Vincent, and he popped off my boob. Taking advantage of the moment, I brought him up to my shoulder and patted his back.
“Think about it,” Ruby went on. “Evie has PCOS. Was always told she couldn’t get pregnant.
” She holds up one finger. “She had this insane, sexy connection with Jasper, a guy she’s seen around town, and they have a magical night together.
” She holds up another finger. “Then they accidentally conceive the most perfect baby ever. And her one-night stand turns into a devoted dad who’s now sleeping on the ground to protect his child and his child’s mother. ”
She fanned herself.
“They’re gonna get close, bond over the baby, and boom. Married. He’ll probably knock her up again because, apparently, he’s got a magic peen that can go all night long.” She threw her hands up. “These are facts.”
Frankie stood, holding out a hand to our ridiculous friend. “I’m driving you home. I’m worried scripting this Hallmark movie is going to send you into preterm labor.”
“Fine, fine,” she said with a wave of a hand. “But the evidence doesn’t lie. Buckle up, Evie.”
The girls left, and within minutes, Vincent was down for the night. I confirmed that the doors were locked, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed.
As I lay staring at the ceiling, though, Ruby’s words replayed in my head. Like Frankie said, it had to be romantic hallucination.
But part of me wondered: Was she right? Was there a connection here? If so, was it as strong as it had been that night. And could I survive it?