Sweet as Pie by Alicia Hunter Pace

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jake was used to waking up and not knowing where he was. He supposed that came from all the random hotel beds he slept in.

But when he woke up this morning, he knew what bed he was in—Evie’s. He smiled and reached for her, but came up empty. That was disappointing, but not devastating. The house smelled like coffee, so that meant she was here somewhere. He sat up and looked at his phone. Almost ten o’clock. No wonder she was up.

He went to the bathroom, found some toothpaste, and swished it around in his mouth with some water. He’d have to remember to bring a toothbrush over.

With all he knew about Evie, he had no idea what her mornings were like on her off days. Would she be busy doing laundry, sorting mail, and all the other things that got put on hold on workdays? Or did she sit around, drink coffee, and read the paper? If she read the paper, did she go online or old school? Did she work the crossword puzzle?

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with needing the answer. She was probably in the living room since that seemed to be the only real room in this house besides this bedroom.

Sure enough, that’s where she was, but she wasn’t doing any of the things he’d imagined.

What he found amused and delighted him, maybe unlike he’d ever been amused or delighted before.

She lay on her back on the couch, wearing a long flowy, white nightgown with her feet propped on the end of the sofa arm. She didn’t see him at first, partly because he came up behind her and partly because she was contemplating her feet—and on her feet were the pink-and-silver skates he’d bought her. She was also wearing a pair of the knee-high skate socks—the purple-and-black-striped ones.

He paused to enjoy the sight. She picked up one of her feet, raised it toward the ceiling, and turned her ankle this way and that as she studied it.

Like the Grinch, his heart grew three sizes, and he couldn’t stand not touching her another second. At first, she looked startled when he leaned over to give her an upside-down kiss. Then she smiled and set her mouth for what she knew was coming. As their lips met, she reached up and put a hand on either side of his cheeks.

Damn. How long until December?

When their mouths parted, he said, “Like what you see?”

“Yes, I do.” He got the feeling she wasn’t talking about the skates.

She started to sit up, but he stopped her. “No. Stay put.” And he sat on the couch, swung her legs across his lap, and put his hand on her knee above the sock’s edge. “Do they fit?”

“I think so. I haven’t stood up in them. Adele is very proud of these hardwood floors. They’re original to the house, you know.” She let her voice take on a mock refined tone.

“Who’s Adele?”

“Adele Landry Hampton. Future sister-in-law of Ava Grace. Her family owns the houses on Bungalow Circle, and she manages the property.”

“I’ve already had enough of her and I don’t even know her.” It was good talking about nothing.

“Oh, she’s nice.” She lifted her foot again. “Do you think these look like witch socks?”

“That’s what I thought when I bought them.” He hadn’t really, but it was a good idea.

“Are you saying I’m a witch?”

“Hmm.” He scratched his head. “No, but if I was one of those guys in one of those movies where everything turns out okay—”

“Romantic comedies?”

“Yeah, that. I might say you have bewitched me. But I’m not that guy. I can’t be that guy.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Never that guy. You’re a big famous hockey star.”

“Yet...” When he kissed her, her tongue sought his first. He wanted to pull her into his lap, strip off her gown, and love her while she wore those skates. The thought made him laugh against her mouth.

She pulled her face back. “What?”

“Nothing.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I’m just happy. Am I allowed to be happy?”

She looked at him, all sweet and soft. “I’ve always wanted you to be happy.”

A burst of energy went through him. “Let’s go out for breakfast and take your new skates for a test run.”

“Where?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Who serves breakfast this late? There’s a Cracker Barrel out by the interstate. Glaz swears by it. He even does his Christmas shopping there.”

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sure everyone looks forward to those presents. I meant where are we going skating? It’s cooled off, but we’re not going to find an isolated frozen pond around here. And the practice rink is out.”

Fuck. Stupid Killjoy. He really was a Killjoy. But she was right. If they went to the iceplex, they would run into some of his teammates, there to work out. It was nice being here with Evie, but damn it all to hell, he wanted to go somewhere, have some food, have some fun. And it was impossible. Unless...

A thought began to form in his mind.

“You said you didn’t have to go to Crust today? At all?”

Evie shook her head. “Barring disaster. But guess what we can do? It’ll be a tight fit, but we can have that chicken pot pie lesson.”

Damn. He’d all but forgotten that. Now that he didn’t need an excuse to be with her, he definitely was never going to make pie of any kind.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“I thought we were supposed to be on the down low.”

“Let’s get out of town.”

She looked interested. “Where?”

“I don’t know. We could go down to Orange Beach for the weekend. Or over to Atlanta. If the Braves or Falcons are in town, I can get tickets easy. Good tickets.”

She nodded. “I’d rather see football than a baseball game.”

“We could check and see if there’s a concert we’re interested in. I could probably get tickets to that, too, though it might be harder.” Harder for Miles, though. Not him.

She laughed. “There’s always Six Flags.”

“I want to dance with you.” It had been years since they’d danced. Maybe not since their cotillion days, but they’d always danced so well together. “I can’t see that happening at Six Flags.”

“Or a Falcons game—unless you want to be on the jumbotron.”

Then, like lightning striking, he knew just the place. “I know. Let’s go to New Orleans.”

“New Orleans?” She frowned.

“Sure. You say it like it’s in Australia. What is it? Five hours down there? Less if you’re with me in a Lamborghini.”

He wanted this, wanted to hold hands with her as they walked down Bourbon Street, dance with her in dive bars, buy her something expensive on Royal Street. He wanted to give her—and himself—the weekend they would have had in New Orleans for his fraternity formal if he hadn’t been so stupid.

He just had to talk her into it. “It would be fun. You lived there so you know all the best places to eat. We could maybe go to a Saints game, if you really want to go to a football game.”

“I don’t. Not in particular.” He could tell she was intrigued. “But that’s a long way for a short time. I have to go to work Monday.”

“So do I,” he said. “If we left within the hour, we’d be there in time for dinner. We’d have most of the day tomorrow. We could leave in the afternoon and still get back in time to rest up for Monday.”

The more he talked, the happier she looked.

“This is crazy.” But she was smiling.

“Not as crazy as hiding here and hoping Killjoy doesn’t come to serenade you under your window.”

“Jake! Be nice.” She swatted at him.

“Sorry. The ride would even be fun. We can talk and listen to music. I’m not the type to deny you a bathroom stop.”

She laughed. “Maybe we could stop at Cracker Barrel and do some early Christmas shopping.”

“Right. Iron skillets for our mothers. Rocking chairs for our dads.” He brought her hand to lay over his heart. “Am I detecting that you’re possibly onboard?”

“You might be.” She grinned. “Let’s go casual. I know lots of great places to eat, no jacket required.” She raised one eyebrow. “In fact, they might throw you out if you show up in one.”

“Sounds good. So shorts and T-shirts. It’ll be warmer there than here.”

“Yes, quite a bit, but we’re used to it.”

“Okay.” He stood up. “If you’ll let me take your car, I’ll go home to pack. I’ll get online and get us a hotel. Where do you want to stay? Windsor Court? Ritz-Carlton?”

“I would like...that is... I’ve always wanted to stay at the Bourbon Orleans. I’m not sure how it compares in price, but I hear it’s haunted.” She said the last word in a whisper.

He laughed and gave her a brief kiss. “You’ve got it, sweetheart. If there’s a room to be had, I’ll get you a spook. I’ll be back in an hour—in my car. I don’t give a damn about what Hyacinth sees.”

“She’s at her shop. So don’t...” She trailed off and went silent. The energy in the room changed. When he looked around, Evie was bent with her hands on her skate laces, but her eyes were trained on a stack of wrapped presents on a table across the room.

“What?” It was something, something not good.

“I can’t go,” she said quietly. “I have to go to Channing’s baby shower tomorrow afternoon.”

And just like that, he went from over-the-top excited to this-can’t-be-fucking-happening faster than his car could go from zero to sixty.