Page 88 of Play For Keeps

Then he seals his lips to mine.

The kiss goes on for minutes. And when his hand loops behind my neck pulling me closer, I feel a wild, burning sensation in my chest.

And I secretly hope Grant is watching from the window.

TWENTY-EIGHT

FATE WORKED ITS MAGIC

Jake

Three weeks later…

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Everly shakes her head with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at me.

“What was I supposed to do?” I ask her, an innocent look on my face. “My girl needed a swing set.”

It took me at least 200 hours to put the damn thing together. I have been out here in the back yard until sun set every night this week, but it’s all worth it to see the smile on Birdie-girl’s face. “Last one to the slide is a rotten egg,” I yell at her, taking off across the grass.

Birdie squeals as she chases me. I let her win. She scrambles up the ladder to the top of the slide, then turns to look down at me. “Come on, Jake! You have to come too!”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to be on this thing all the time,” I tell her, following her up the ladder and then down the twisty covered slide, hoping like hell I don’t get stuck.

“You are a big kid, Jake,” Everly says, laughing as I pop out the bottom of it.

“It’s your turn, beautiful.”

Everly rolls her eyes, but she joins us, sitting on one of the swings. “Give me a push, lover boy.”

“Oh, I’ll give you a—”

“Jake!”

I grin at her, then lower my voice so that Birdie won’t overhear. “Don’t worry, Ev, I’ll finish that thought later tonight.”

She turns and playfully pinches my side. “Ouch!” I yelp, pretending it hurt. “You’re going to pay for that.” I take hold of the ropes and pull her backwards as far as I can before letting her go, sending her soaring through the air.

“Jake! If I fall off this thing, you are in so much trouble,” she yells.

“My turn!” Birdie jumps onto the swing beside Everly, and I reach over to give her a push. She’s wearing her cat ear headband as always and has a smile a mile wide on her face.

Everly and Birdie made the drive from Brookmont to stay with me for the weekend. I was dying to show Birdie the swing set I bought for her. I want her to feel comfortable at my place, I want it to feel like a second home for her. If I’m honest, I’m hoping to make this place our house very soon.

Everly’s plan to move back to Reed Point is in motion and as much as I’ve wanted to ask Everly to move in with me, I’ve kept my mouth shut. I know how she works. She needs time before she takes next steps. But I’m running out of patience with the two-hour drive that separates us.

There’s not a chance Grant will fight Everly on moving back to Reed Point. He’s not even going to be in Brookmont for the foreseeable future. He sent Everly an email a couple of weeks ago letting her know that he would be in California for a while for work. When she brought Birdie to visit Miranda, she filled her in on the missing details. He had asked them for another chance in the company’s West Coast division and they had agreed - this time on the condition that he commit to a therapy program. According to Miranda, he didn’t fight them on it. Miranda also told Everly that she would understand if she decided to move back to Reed Point. She only asked if she could see Birdie a couple of times a month. Everly agreed.

Birdie takes off running when we hear the doorbell chime. Everly’s mom and dad are taking her for sushi this evening, which means I get my girl all to myself for a few hours. I could kiss them both when I see them on my doorstep. It’s been five days since I’ve been inside Everly. We still FaceTime every night, and while some of those calls are R-rated, it’s not the same. After saying goodbye to Birdie, I close the front door and in a split second I have Everly pushed up against it.

“I missed you,” I say, with my left hand on the door next to her face, my right-hand drifting over her hip to the hem of her shirt.

“I missed you too.”

“I’m done missing you, Ev. I want to have the same address as you, here in Reed Point.”

I’m done with the distance between us. I am hellbent on convincing her to move in with me. She doesn’t stand a chance.

“Forget about Birdie’s choir performance at the end of the month. Are you not dying as much as I am to be back?” It’s a question I’ve wanted to ask her for days. The distance between us has been gut-wrenching, and I can’t emotionally or physically take another second of it.

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