Chapter 26
Evie
I’m throwing clothes around my room, deranged, while stress eating some Vermont sharp cheese squares.
I’m suddenly extremely thirsty. Getting ready for a date is way more of a workout than it should be, and way more than any man will ever appreciate.
I leave the clothes-tornado in my room and hunt through my fridge for a prebiotic soda.
They say no sugar so I basically don’t feel guilty for drinking them.
Not that I would anyway, all of my iced coffee is essentially dessert in a cup, and I never feel badly about those.
I pop open a strawberry-flavored and the swig I take instantly refreshes me.
I don’t even want to walk back into my room because messes stress me out, but I did this to myself and I really need to get ready.
August said to just dress comfortably. So I’m thinking pants and a nice top.
I shoot him a quick text to double check anyway, and he immediately confirms that’s a good idea, but to not wear a shirt that’s too loose.
I opt for a high-waisted, cropped wide-leg pair of jeans with a simple black shirt tucked in, and a camel, wool blend overcoat that reaches down to the top of my black booties.
I wouldn’t usually own a coat this expensive, but it was a college graduation gift to myself.
I wanted something that was good quality and could be a staple piece in my wardrobe.
Content with my hair down and wavy, I send a picture to Thea for approval, and her response is immediate and enthusiastic.
Usually I love to have Thea here in person for these kinds of things, and vice versa when she’s going out somewhere, but she said she had plans tonight too so we’re stuck texting each other affirmations.
In true August fashion, he’s at my front door to get me for our date.
He’s already dropped Addie off at Ms. Wilma’s house and promises that Maple will be taken care of.
August lives off the one highway out of our little town so we drop Maple off to have a playdate with his pups before heading out on our date.
“So are you going to give me any hints on what this mysterious date is going to be or is there a shovel in the back that you plan on using on me?” You would think that given my last surprise date and how it went that I would be a little apprehensive to go on another one, but I trust August so implicitly that the anxiety never comes.
He gives the sweetest chuckle. “No, no shovels. I promise. And do you want to know so you have time to mentally prepare for whatever it’s going to be or are you being overly enthusiastic and just want to know?” He chides with a joking tone.
He reaches over and sets his hand on top of my thigh and I place my hand comfortably on top of his. I’m tempted to roll down the window in the near freezing temperatures so the butterflies in my stomach have a place to escape.
“Maybe a little bit of both. Can you blame a girl? I’m just so excited that we get to spend time together actually doing something. Assuming we’re doing something.”
He chuckles back and stares at me just long enough before it becomes dangerous while driving.
My stomach responds to his piercing green eyes with a prominent swoop.
“We’re definitely doing something, Princess.
Hopefully it’s something you’ll enjoy. I find it challenging, therapeutic, and a workout. ”
“Well…if that’s our date, I don’t think we had to leave town for that.”
“You’re too much, Evie.” He jokes lightheartedly. “And no, that is not our date. We’re going to work up an appetite going axe throwing and then I have dinner reservations.” He glances over at me cautiously, attempting to read my expression. “Does that sound good?”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to! That sounds amazing! Thank you for planning this. And very impressive you got reservations the night before.”
“Well, I do wish I had more time to plan the date, but I think this will be enjoyable for our first one. And a last minute reservation is no problem.” He says that last part with a little smirk and I’m wondering how much he had to pay off the restaurant to make room for us.
After about thirty minutes we enter the next town over and pull into the axe throwing bar’s parking lot.
The building looks exactly like it belongs in the small mountain town.
It’s designed like a log cabin, smells like it was built in the 1800’s, and I’m absolutely obsessed with it.
August checks us in, signs us up on the bar’s score keeping app, and gets us over to our station.
“So you’ve never done this before, right?” August questions while bringing us over a couple of drinks. Neither of us drinks alcohol and I’m a sucker for a good Shirley Temple so that’s what he brought me. He looks like he’s properly indulging in an Arnold Palmer.
“Nope. Not once.” I take a sip of my Shirley Temple and its pure perfection. Probably the crispiest, cherry drink I’ve ever had. I’d be willing to drive thirty minutes out of town for another one of these frosty bad boys.
“Is it safe to assume you’ll need a little help?” His wink and smirk come out together to play on his face again causing me to get all jittery with excitement.
“How gentlemanly of you and with absolutely no ulterior motives.” I gently shove at his arm.
“I think I will need help figuring it out. ‘Poor little ol’ me. Just a damsel in distress who needs the muscular, outdoorsy, billionaire to help me hold an axe so I don’t accidentally chop my foot off. ’” I tease in my fakest southern drawl.
“Nice to know you think I’m muscular.” He playfully pops a kiss on my cheek.
I do a little skip run as he leads me to the rack of axes in our station.
“Do you want to throw with one hand or two?” August picks one of the axes up from the rack and hands it to me.
I’m actually not a damsel in distress, but this has me a little concerned.
What if I pull back to throw it, lose my grip and it flies back, and everyone jumps in a circle like the little people in Wii bowling?
“Umm, the more hands the better feels like the safer option here. Less room for error.”
“Ok great, well, let’s get your grip correct.
” August moves to stand flush behind me and every bit of DNA in my body is on high alert and I’m instantly flushed.
“Your dominant hand is your right hand, correct? I’ve seen you write with it when you’re with Addie.
” I wonder if the worms in the dirt are having fun playing with the bar that is so low because August noticing which hand I write with has me swooning.
“Yeah, I’m right handed.” I’m viscerally aware that August is still pressed in behind me.
“Great, so move the axe to your right hand, set it close to the bottom leaving about an inch of space.” I do as instructed and the axe feels pretty weighty in just one hand.
“Now move the axe to your center.” Except he has his hand on top of mine and guides it for me and I shift, not in discomfort but something wholly else.
He moves his hand from on top of mine and sets my left hand together with his directly on above of my right effectively caging me in.
His cologne has an effect on me that I didn’t realize was possible.
It smells woodsy and deep like amber mixed with pine and I want to sleep in that smell.
“Alright, now you’re going to want to pull back and directly over the top of your head to get a proper rotation on the axe.
Once you feel comfortable, toss it as hard as you can.
” He’s got both of his hands on top of both of my hands over my head and the sensations are overwhelmingly magnetic.
Too soon, he steps back and to the side to give me space to throw without accidentally removing his head.
I immediately miss his warm body pressed into mine.
I adjust my stance a little until it feels like I have a lot of power in my legs, pull back more on the axe, thrust my arms forward, and let the axe fly.
I watch in the split second it takes to fly down the alley and hit the bullseye.
I can’t believe I just did it. I jump up and down in celebration turning to August who’s beaming at me and throw myself onto him. He catches me effortlessly with my legs around his waist and my arms in death grip around his neck.
“Great job, Evie! That was incredible. That’s my girl!” His praise stitches up every torn fabric I’m made of until I can’t see a single seam of hurt anymore.
August
Spinning around and laughing with Evie is probably the most carefree I’ve felt since before I met Larissa.
Everything with Larissa happened so quickly and Adeline was unplanned.
I feel like between my parents death and Adeline’s birth, adulthood fell on me like an anvil right on my head.
And it’s not that I don’t have carefree, enjoyable moments with Addie but those always carry an undertone of responsibility.
Is she safe? Will she be okay? Can she do it?
Does she need me? Will this impact her negatively?
I don’t have that parental obligation with Evie and for a moment I bask in the freedom of it all.
Until I’m knocked sideways with guilt during any moment of happiness outside of my daughter.
I know it’s good and healthy and necessary for me to take care of myself so Addie can have her dad be in his best form for her, but the guilt of doing something for myself never subsides.
Even if a by-product of doing something for myself ends up benefitting Adeline.