I had him with that one and we both knew it.
“Look at you with the shrewd negotiating skills.” Alex took my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. “I like it,” he said, then raked his fingers through his curls. “My problem with Candace stretches back to my parents. My mom loved my dad with all that she was. She gave up her career to move to Wildrose so he could focus on his. Everything was fine for a while, but then Dad disappeared into his job. He worked so much we never saw him. When Mom asked him to stay home or take time off, he’d lay on the guilt extra thick. She was miserable and I hated him for it until I grew up to be just like him. Candace and me? We would have imploded eventually, but my job made it happen so much faster, and so much worse. You’ve seen what happens when I fall into a book. I disappear, just like he does. Candace couldn’t handle it and things ended on a pretty sour note. I swore I’d never do that to someone again and haven’t been in a relationship since.”
I wondered where that left us. Would Alex say we were in a relationship? Or was this more about the convenience of my magic hooha? I let out a shaky breath. “And yet, here you are, with me.”
It wasn’t a direct question. I didn’t come out and say what was on my mind, but I did think the subtext was pretty clear. Who am I to you?
“Exactly. Here we are. I’m out of the house. My notes are in my bag. And we’re having a lovely dinner. Or we will be, if it ever arrives.” Alex kissed each finger on my hand and I relaxed. A little.
Damn Amelia for getting into my head.
“You don’t have to worry about me pulling a Candace on you. I totally understand when you disappear into a book. Back when I could write, I was the same way. Drew never minded, but apparently he never cared, either. So there’s that.”
Dinner arrived and we chatted while we ate. Everything felt right with the world again, until an idea struck Alex. He shoved his plate away, pulled out his notes and went to work, while I finished my dinner, then sat with my chin in my hands, staring into the restaurant and waiting for him to be done.
Chapter Thirty
Alex
When I was in the zone, I could write six to seven hundred words in twenty minutes. In the three hours I’d been with Evie at Overton’s, I could have written over five thousand words, bringing me that much closer to the finish line I wasn’t sure I’d reach. I knew the total because I did the math over and over, adding another six hundred every twenty minutes.
It was worth it. Being with Evie. Finding the time to make her feel important. I didn’t want her to feel like Candace, or worse, like Mom. And I hated feeling like my dad, so putting down work for an evening was a good thing.
Funny how many times I had to remind myself of that.
After I fleshed out the idea that struck me when dinner arrived, I pulled my plate back in front of me to finish my meal. “Have you thought about trying to write?” I asked around a mouthful of lukewarm steak. “I know you’ve got a lot of extra time on your hands now that I’m gone so much, and I’m not trying to push you out of your comfort zone, just…” I flared my hands and sat back.
Evie needed to write. Someone as talented as her couldn’t shut the door on that gift. Now that I’d seen how good she was, I made it my mission to heal her heart enough to bring her back to her purpose. Jude would call it another cause to soothe my White Knight Syndrome. I called it taking care of the people that mattered.
I’d do whatever it took to make her feel safe enough to unleash her talent.
Just as soon as I finished this book.
Evie’s gray eyes lowered to her hands as she spun her glass on the table. “I’ve thought about writing. It doesn’t scare me quite as much as it used to.” Her faint smile told me everything I needed to know. I was on the right track, guiding her back to herself.
“That’s obviously because of my awesome factor.”
“Obviously.” She put her chin in her hands and batted her eyelashes. “The credit is all yours.”
“What would you write about?”
She shrugged. “I said I wasn’t quite as scared by the idea as I used to be, not that I had any clue where to start.”
There was a less noble reason the thought of Evie writing excited me. Yes, she had a talent I wanted to nurture and grow, but also, I wouldn’t have to worry about her spending all this time alone if she lost herself to writing, too. As ulterior motives went, it was fairly benign. A win for both of us—one that would bring her joy and save our budding relationship.
The look on her face when I glanced up, the one that had me putting my notes away without waiting for her to ask…it wouldn’t have even been a thing if she’d been working on her book while I worked on mine. “Could you imagine what Wildrose would think if the two of us sat here all night, lost in notes and laptops?”
Evie grinned. “It’s a cute image. Two writers, out on the town, but not really out at all because they’re lost in their own worlds.” She sipped her drink, swirling the ice in the glass. “I do miss writing.”
“Take some time. See if you
