“Fresh strawberry pie is my favorite. Although apple pie with ice cream…I don’t know that anything in the world is much better than that. How about you?”
Juliet stared at him as he handed her a pint of strawberries to put in their cart. His thumb grazed her hand as he did it. Juliet could swear she could feel where his thumb had touched her skin even after he moved away. “How about me, what?”
“What’s your favorite kind of pie?” Evan took a small step closer and smiled at her.
That smile—the one that brought out the dimple in his chin—did something to Juliet’s insides. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something she hadn’t been sure she’d ever feel again.
The faintest stirrings of desire.
She immediately took a step back. “I don’t know. I guess key lime pie is my favorite.”
Yeah, Evan wanted her to be comfortable with him, but he didn’t want her actually wanting him, she was sure. Plus, she totally couldn’t think about feelings right now. Just surviving the next few days.
But she couldn’t stop looking at the dimple in his chin.
Juliet tried to keep everything professional, yet friendly between them as they walked around the store. It was hard, given the way Evan constantly touched her, just briefly, or smiled, or said something funny to make her laugh.
Eventually they gathered all the food Evan deemed necessary for whatever meal he had planned, then paid and went out to his car. He had insisted she leave hers at Omega.
“Your house?” he asked her. “It’s closest.”
Juliet froze in the middle of putting a bag of groceries in the back of his Jeep. Evan couldn’t see her house, not the state it was in right now. “No, let’s go to your town house. That’ll be better. Mine’s a mess.”
And she wasn’t just talking about a mess, although it was a mess. She was talking about something else.
He didn’t seem to have any argument with that, and Juliet relaxed. Evan just wouldn’t understand what she’d done in her house. Juliet didn’t even understand it.
Evan’s town house wasn’t too far from her place, just a couple miles. They both lived north of DC, in College Park, a popular area for young professionals.
She had been to Evan’s home a few years ago, but never just the two of them together. They pulled into his designated parking spot.
His home was different than Juliet remembered. Previously it had been more of a bachelor pad, with mismatched furniture, no color on the walls. She’d made fun of Evan and her brothers, about their poor taste in decorating, and the fact that some boxes remained unpacked in the middle of their living rooms. She had called all their places the bachelor death pads. They’d argued that they worked too much to be at home very often, anyway.
Now Evan’s house couldn’t be any more different. The walls were a deep teal, causing the white trim and molding to stand out brightly. The old couch and folding chairs in his living room had been replaced by a lovely overstuffed sofa and matching armchair, both of which fairly begged you to sit down, get comfortable and watch a movie with a loved one.
The room appealed to all Juliet’s senses. She walked inside, looking around, amazed. “This is gorgeous. When did you do all this?”
Evan seemed uncomfortable, although Juliet had no idea why. “A little over a year ago. I thought it was finally time to grow up and stop looking like I was about to move out any second. I hired a decorator to help pick things out, although I did most of the work myself.”
“Well, it’s unbelievable.” She spun away from him to look at the couch. “I couldn’t have picked out a better color myself. And this sofa? I just want to sink into it and stay there forever.”
Juliet knew she was gushing, but couldn’t help it. She loved everything about this room. Smiling widely, she turned back to Evan.
Only to find him looking at her with something akin to agony in his eyes.
“Evan? What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Let’s get this stuff into the kitchen.” He blinked and his easy smile slid back into place. Juliet wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.
The kitchen was just as tastefully decorated as the living room. Evan now had matching appliances and granite countertops. An island rested in the middle of the space, two stools slid neatly underneath.
“Wow, whoever your decorator was, I want to kiss him or her.”
“Her. Kimberly’s pretty brilliant.”
Juliet could hear the admiration Evan had for this woman. Had they been lovers? All of a sudden Juliet wasn’t as enthralled with the colors and textures as she had been a moment ago.
Were they still lovers now? Juliet had avoided any personal conversations with Evan for a long time. She realized she had no idea what was going on in his life. For all she knew he could be seriously involved with someone. The thought that she was standing here, leaning against some other woman’s kitchen island, did not sit well with her.
Juliet knew she had no claim on Evan, no say about his intimacy with other women. Because what could she do? It wasn’t as if she could get involved with him, even if he wasn’t dating someone. Men tended not to like it when their woman shied away from them every time they were touched.
So what did it matter if Evan had a gorgeous interior decorating girlfriend? If the woman didn’t care if Evan went undercover as someone else’s husband, then it was none of Juliet’s business.
“Does, uh…Kimberly mind you going undercover for long periods?”
Evan looked up from where he was putting the fruits and vegetables into the refrigerator. “We’re not dating. As a matter of fact, I think you might be more her type than I am.”
Juliet just nodded, ignoring the fact that she
