Right girl wrong side, p.22
Right Girl, Wrong Side, page 22
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”
She leaned her shoulder against his. “You’re not stuffy though. You never were.”
Her eyes glimmered in the sunlight.
“Maybe you’re just easy to be around.”
“Unlike Layla Petroski?”
Her again? A sly grin tugged at his lips. “So you were jealous, huh?”
She made a pinching motion with her thumb and forefinger. “Just a little.”
A warm rumble filled his chest, laughter combined with joy. “I was jealous of Craig.”
“Craig?”
“Craig Johnson. They guy who took you to the prom instead of me.”
“Oh. Him,” she said like it was no big deal.
“Both years.”
She blushed and hung her head. “He was sweet, but we never dated.”
“No? But I thought—”
“We were just friends.”
“Like you and me?”
She met his gaze and held it. “No. Not like you and me.”
His heart hammered and his face heated.
“I definitely liked you more.”
“Yeah, well. I liked you more than Layla.” He rubbed the side of his neck, embarrassed by his admission.
She gasped, leaning into him. “What?”
“It’s true, Evita.” His voice was all husky.
“We were star-crossed lovers then.” She tried to say it lightly, but it struck a chord.
“Hmm, maybe so.” He studied her pretty face, knowing they couldn’t have made it work. Not back then and at their ages. The resistance between their two families had been too strong.
“Well. Anyway.” Her eyebrows arched. “Now, here we are.”
“Here we are.” He stared back at the sea, unsure of what to say next.
She built a bridge for him. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
His lips twitched. “What’s this? An interview?”
“Go on.” She pressed into his shoulder again, and her warmth seeped into him. For an instant, he found it hard to breathe. Then the breeze picked up, and the scent of her perfume called him home.
“Ah yeah. So. In five years?” He searched the sky. “I’d like to be promoted, I guess. Hopefully tenured.”
“At Smithburg?”
“Yeah.” He hung his head. “I can’t believe I even considered it.”
She stared at him. “What?”
He gritted his teeth together before saying sheepishly. “Wellesley.”
“Wait.” She cupped a hand over her mouth. “What do you mean? You were going to teach there?”
“Nothing guaranteed.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Boy, wouldn’t my mom have loved that.”
“But no?” Evita’s eyebrows arched.
“No,” he said firmly. “I looked at an application though. Even started it. There was a job opening, and I thought about it. But then you know what I decided?”
She waited for him to continue, as wind raked through her curls.
“I decided I wanted to be more like you.”
“Me?” Evita thumbed her chest. “I don’t understand?”
“Yes, you, Evita Machado. Someone so sure of themself. Following their dreams. Look at you and Coming Up Roses. Your own shop! So impressive. And I want to be impressive too. But not just to anybody. And not necessarily to my folks.” He sighed. “Although that would be nice, that’s not the most important thing to me.”
“No? What is?”
He placed a hand on his chest. “That I feel impressed with myself. Satisfied in myself, the way you are with your life.”
She shot him a cockeyed grin. “You’ve just impressed me.”
“Have I?” He swallowed past the tender knot in his throat. “Well, good.” Ryan wrapped his arms around his knees, staring out at the ocean. Somehow, it had felt really good to say that, and he was glad he’d shared that with Evita. It was almost like a dress rehearsal. He’d give that talk to his parents next. He might not have been able to do that a week ago, but he felt fully capable now.
She nudged her body against his. “That’s great. What else?”
He thought of his kids and how great they were. “I’d like to still be coaching youth soccer too.”
“What?” Admiration flooded her gaze. “I didn’t know that you did that.”
He nodded. “The kids on my team are all pretty amazing. Some of them have parents at my school. That’s how I got recruited into coaching. This is my second year, and I love it.”
She studied him appreciatively. “I remember you were a soccer star in high school.”
His neck warmed. “I don’t know about the star part, but yeah, I played a bit.”
“Not in college though?”
“No.” He shrugged at the truth. “Probably wasn’t good enough. I also wanted to focus on my studies. Had my eye on grad school and all that.”
She nodded. “That’s cool, Ryan. Maybe someday you’ll have a kid of your own on the team?”
He closed his eyes, trying to imagine that. Weirdly, the boy that he saw had curly dark hair like Evita’s, and dimples. His heart thudded and his eyelids flipped open. “Don’t know. Maybe.” He brushed that thought aside. “I’d also like to have most of the work done on my house by then. Although with those kinds of projects, the work is never really done.”
“Projects like what?”
He was happy to share about his dream. “I want to buy an old farmhouse and fix it up. I saw Andrew Wyeth’s place once and it inspired me.”
“The artist’s home in Pennsylvania?”
It amazed him that she knew. “Yeah.”
“I’ve been there and to the museum too. The house was very cool. Basic. Rustic.”
“Right.” He pursed his lips. “I’m thinking a little less rustic than that. Bigger too. With room enough for a family.”
“Big family or small?”
He shrugged. “Medium.”
She laughed, apparently liking the sound of that. “You always were good on compromise.”
His forehead rose. “We’re compromising?”
She pushed back on his chest with her hand, as they sat side by side. “Sure. Why not? We’re only just talking anyway.” She sighed and sat back in the sand, supporting herself on the heels of her hands. “The farmhouse sounds nice. Romantic.” He warmed at the word. “With land?”
He nodded. “A few acres at least. Minimum five.”
“So, a mini-farm then?”
“Yeah.”
“Horses?”
“Maybe not. I wouldn’t mind a dog though.”
She sighed. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“Yeah?” Then he remembered her talking about this in high school. “That’s right. You couldn’t have them because of Chachi. He’s allergic.”
She nodded. “To cats too.” She stared out at the ocean. “We had fish and turtles, but it wasn’t the same.”
“You volunteered at the animal rescue.”
“Still do twice a week.”
He beheld her admiringly. “But you’ve still never gotten a pup?”
She shrugged. “I’m in an apartment now. But some day, when I have a house, yeah, I’d like to.”
“What kind?”
“Any kind with four legs and a tail. I’d take a three-legged one too, if he needed a home.”
He viewed her warmly. “I bet you would, and he’d be lucky to have you.”
Intensity flickered between them, and she blushed, looking away.
When she turned back to him, she said, “Maybe I’d like a beagle. Like Snoopy!”
“A beagle would be sweet, but those bay a lot, you know.”
“As if I’m not used to commotion in a house.” She rolled her eyes, and it was like she’d sent an arrow straight through his heart, overwhelming him with her charm.
“Fair point.” He smirked and then asked, “How about you in five years? What do you see yourself doing?”
Excitement lit up her face. “I’d like to have my community garden up and running by then.”
“Oh yeah?” That sounded like a worthy goal. “Where do you plan to start that?”
“In my grandparents’ neighborhood, I hope. I’ve had my eye on a vacant piece of land for a while now. I’d have to reach out to the owners and investigate permits and such, but I’ve been doing research on how to get one of those off the ground.”
“I love the sound of that.”
“Yeah, me too. It could be so cool. So great for that neighborhood, give the younger families something to invest in and the older retired people, like my Abuelo and Abuela, something beautiful to do.”
“Sounds like a win all around. You’ve always had a green thumb, that’s for sure.”
She gave him a thumbs-up, appearing dreamy-eyed. “I’d like to involve the local schools too. Have kids come and plant things, and maybe older ones contribute to the upkeep. They could earn community service credits.”
“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “Like you and I did in all those outreach clubs in high school.”
She sighed a happy sigh. “Exactly.”
“I think that’s fantastic. You should definitely do it.”
She beamed up at him. “You should definitely buy your farmhouse.”
“I think I will.”
“In the meantime.” She cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve got a plan for tonight.”
“Really? What?”
“It’s about the group games and how to get everyone engaged.”
“I’m listening.”
“Remember how we talked about team building?”
“Team building, yeah.”
“I’ve got uniforms.” She bit her lip, looking impish.
“Uni-what?”
“Remember those T-shirts with the whale on them?”
“For Nantucket? Sure I do.”
“When I went into that shop to get them, I didn’t buy ten, Ryan. I bought fourteen.”
“You didn’t.” He grinned so big it hurt.
“Even a tiny little one for Luisa. They all match.” Her grin matched his. “You think your parents will wear theirs?”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t want to burst her bubble while she was on a roll. “I’ll sure wear mine. I’m betting Mads will wear hers too.” He couldn’t believe she’d been this thoughtful. But that was so like her. It also proved she’d believed in a chance for whole-house harmony since then, maybe even before.
“You’re a pretty special woman, Evita. Thank you.”
Her eyes danced. “You’re a pretty special man.”
The mood shifted between them, becoming intense and romantic. Wind raked through their hair and rippled their clothing. But they were in their own world. A certain kind of paradise. He leaned toward her, and she held his face in her hands. His spirit keened toward her light.
She spoke softly but with a determined edge. “We’re going to make this work.”
She wasn’t just talking about their families getting along. She was hinting about the two of them being together. His throat went tender and raw, because that’s what he wanted. Both things. He lowered his mouth toward hers. “I’d like that.”
“I’d like that too,” she whispered. “A lot.”
Her breath brushed across his lips and current crackled through him. Then softly, tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers in one lingering kiss.
It seemed to go on forever, lifting him up through the clouds and high above the Atlantic. Blowing him out to sea where he floated on the wind. Then, suddenly, it was over.
Her eyes glistened. “That was nice.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Yeah. Just like I knew it would be.” And he had imagined it so many times. Only reality exceeded his fantasies.
“Me too.” She sighed and kissed him again. Tenderly and just once on the lips, a silky sweep of butterfly’s wings.
He wanted to ask what was next, or talk about how they could work this out around their families, but the moment was so special, he didn’t want to ruin it. So he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close, wishing with all his might that he could kiss her like that again. But not yet. Not now. Someday though. Yeah. Absolutely.
She snuggled into the crook of his arm, and they both watched the ocean waves cresting and pounding the shore, as their hearts kept time to the steady rhythm.
And, for this brief moment, this was all he wanted. Just being here with Evita as the sun sank low in the heavens, the crimson colors of twilight painting the sky.
Seventeen
Evita and Ryan walked back to the cottage along the shore, watching the night close in. It had grown chillier, and they wrapped their arms around themselves, strolling along the sand while staying out of the waves. It felt so natural being with him. Perfect. And his sweet, tender kiss had blown her away. Her heart fluttered just remembering the gentle pressure of his mouth on hers, wispy soft, and warm. Tingles raced down her spine. Sebastian hadn’t kissed like that. He’d been more aggressive. She sensed that Ryan could up his game, but that he’d taken things slow on purpose. She appreciated that. Any more right now would have been too much.
“How you doing?” His eyes sparkled, and her stomach flipped. He was so amazingly handsome and kind. Just all around—she sighed—everything. She hadn’t known about him coaching soccer, and that only added another layer of niceness to him. He’d always been a good person. Someone who cared about others. Now it seemed he was starting to care about her in a romantic way. Her heart thumped. At least that’s what she was hoping.
The breeze picked up, sending chill bumps down her arms. “A little cold.”
He wrapped his arm around her as they moved along and warmth pooled in her belly. “We’re almost there.” His voice was husky below the wind, and she enjoyed the feel of his body pressed up next to hers. He wasn’t a bulky guy. More like lean, but solid.
She glanced over at him as they walked along, their bare feet sinking in the chilly sand. “We’ve been gone a long time.”
His smile warmed her heart. “So maybe a long time was what we needed?”
“It was good to get away from all the shellfire.”
He blew out a breath. “Boy, was it ever.”
“I learned some things about you.” Her tone was flirty as she tossed her curls.
The tips of his ears turned red. “I learned what you’re going to name your dog.”
“Stop. You know what I mean. Serious stuff. Like about that farmhouse.”
“You do seriously want a dog though.” He lightly squeezed her shoulder. “I could tell that part.” Winds whistled past them, somersaulting off the waves as they strolled along in tandem, each one effortlessly matching the other’s steps.
“True. And the community garden.”
“Both things will happen for you,” he said tenderly. “I feel it.”
She waited for him to mention the kiss, but he didn’t. She hoped it wasn’t because he was sorry about it, but she didn’t think so. He stared out at the sea with a faraway look, and she could tell he was stewing over something. If it was about the two of them, he wasn’t sharing. Ryan was usually pretty open, so maybe that was a bad sign. Pain seared through her gut.
No, Evita. Don’t overreact. He’s probably just processing like you are. Give him time. Maybe she needed time too. “So, game night,” she said after a lull. “We’re in? The Hatfields and the Machados?”
“I’ll do my best with my crew,” he said. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”
“I understand.”
They reached the spot where their families had set up their separate camps on the beach. Everything had been packed up, including the bocce ball. Ryan frowned. “I probably should have helped pick up.”
She paused at the bottom of the wooden steps. “I’m sure they’ll forgive you this once.”
He chuckled at her choice of words. “I’m not so sure I’ll be forgiven at all.” The twinkle in his eyes said he wasn’t sorry about it though. He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. Her face warmed. “But I’ll deal with it.”
She stared up at him, wishing they could stay down on the beach, just the two of them. But she knew they had to go and face the music. They had just a few more days to get through, and hopefully they’d be more peaceable ones. “Okay.” She drew in a deep breath. “Here we go.”
He held up crossed fingers. “Here we go.”
They climbed the stairs and found Ryan’s family sitting at the picnic table in front of the kitchen window hunkered over their food while wearing light jackets. Their plates were loaded with burgers and fries.
His mom’s eyes went wide as she surveyed her son. “And—where—were you?” She sat beside Maddy and Mr. Hatfield had his back to them.
He peered over his shoulder. “Could have used your help with the grilling tonight.”
“Yeah. I know. Sorry.” He addressed his mom. “We went for a walk.”
She studied Evita and frowned. Evita waited for some kind of tirade to escape her, but she miraculously held her tongue.
“I’m going to go—check in with my family,” she said, hurrying past them and toward the French doors. Just because Mrs. Hatfield hadn’t said anything to her straight-out, that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t, given further opportunity.
As she left, she heard Ryan tell his dad, “How about if I make it up to you by cleaning the grill?”
His dad grumbled. “Sounds good.”
“There’s food warming for you in the oven,” his mom said. “Better grab it before the Machados get after it.”
“Mom.”
“What? They’ve been known to forage our food.”
Evita turned to say something to defend her family, but then she thought better of it. Why bother? Plus, she didn’t want to antagonize the Hatfields. She wanted them in her corner for tonight.
