No, she was more upset over the principle of the thing. She was going to have a semblance of a decent social life for the first time in a month — maybe even a year. She was going to have someone to distract her from Evan. Instead, Evan and Carl had to come crashing in and ruin everything. The most upsetting part of everything was that she wasn't upset. She was looking forward to spending the evening with Evan.
She was so happy about getting to spend time with Evan that it made her mad.
She stamped down the stairs, past the living room, and into the kitchen. She pulled the chair over to the china hutch, climbed up, and reached for her energy drink stash. It wasn't there.
She started going through the cupboards, trying to remember where she had hid that other pack of four.
She slammed each cupboard door after her search came up empty.
"You're not going to find it!" a voice hollered from the living room.
How did Evan know what she was looking for? If he had drunk her Red Bull, so help her, she would — well, she would have to beat it out of him.
She marched into the living room. He was sprawled on the couch — her couch — watching Psych reruns. It was their go-to choice when they were together.
She snagged a pillow off of the loveseat and stalked toward him.
He didn't even look away from the TV.
"Where is it?" she growled.
"Somewhere you won't find," he replied without even looking at her. "You can't keep stress-drinking energy drinks the way you do. It'll kill you."
She clenched her teeth together and narrowed her eyes. She swung the pillow like an ax, straight for his stomach.
"Oomph!" He curled into a protective ball.
"You ruined my evening!" she hollered as she accentuated every word with a smack from the pillow. "You ruined my yellow dress, sabotaged my date, and stole my caffeine stash."
Evan sprang off the couch and tackled her to the ground. She smacked at his shoulders.
"Get off of me, fatso."
Instead of letting her up, he went limp and let all of his weight crush her against the rug. She felt the air slowly being crushed from her lungs.
"Can't. Breathe. Up. Off." She gasped and tried to shove him off. He was heavier than he looked. It must be those darn abs.
"I'll get off of you if you promise to be nice."
"You deserve any meanness you get."
He pushed up onto his elbows, lifting the majority of his weight off of her, and looked her in the eye. She stared into his rich green eyes.
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something then changed his mind. He stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her up with him.
"Forgive me?" he asked with a pleading look.
She scowled. "No, but I might if you run down to the market and get me some chocolate ice cream."
He looked her up and down. "I had you on my shoulders. Are you sure you want to add more sweets?"
Libby's jaw dropped. He'd just called her fat.
She didn't know what to say. For one thing, she was far from fat. She knew she wasn't even close to the overweight category. She landed in the out-of-shape category, but not overweight. If he thought she was fat, he must think of himself as a whale.
She stalked past him, snatched the remote, and turned up the volume on the TV. Just to spite him, she switched it to a home remodeling show. She flopped onto the couch.
She yanked the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and tied it tightly under her chin.
"Come on, you know I don't think you're fat." His face loomed in front of the small opening in her sweatshirt.
She did her best to keep a straight face and continued to look at the TV. His face loomed even closer.
"You're not fat. I was teasing. I shouldn't have said anything." His puppy dog look was nearly enough to make her laugh, but now he was blocking her view to see if they went with a galley kitchen or not. She placed her hand on his face and pushed him out of the way so she could see better.
"You're as skinny as a toothpick."
Her lip twitched.
"I can't see you when you turn sideways."
She forced her lips downward.
His face leaned close to hers again, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. "You could eat five gallons of ice cream and still be skinny."
This time she laughed, and he laughed with her.
"I'm still mad at you for ruining my date."
"Of course you are." He gave her a patronizing pat on the head while she rolled her eyes.
"Do you have any idea how annoying you are?"
"I didn't have any siblings to annoy. I have a whole lifetime of annoyingness saved up," he grinned, "just for you."
"Sit down and shut up. I want to hear if they're going to knock out that wall or not." She pointed at the recliner in the opposite corner.
"Where's Grandma?"
"Upstairs working on her novel. I suggested your name as a victim."
"Thanks."
He left the living room, and she heard the microwave start. A few minutes later, he came back and threw a bag of popcorn at her before lifting her legs so he could sit on the couch with her.
And that was how they spent the next few hours. By the time Marcie came downstairs, they had eaten three bags of popcorn, learned the going price of homes in Belize, and how to build their own cob cottage.
Marcie came into the living room and surveyed the damage: Evan and Libby sitting on opposite ends of the couch and popcorn bags piled on the coffee table. A few stray kernels of popcorn laid on the rug.
"Why didn't you go on your date, Libby?" Marcie asked.
Libby thought she saw a twinkle in Marcie’s eyes, but she couldn't be sure.
Libby gave her a resigned look. "There was a small incident, and I wasn't able to go. But we do have another animal to add to your collection."
Libby ran upstairs to grab the box with the still-sleeping raccoon. She handed it to Marcie who made the appropriate cooing noises and baby talk that new parents like to hear when other adults talk to their children.
"What a darling! Good work, Libby. This is perfect. I'll be right back." Marcie darted upstairs, and they soon heard thumping and scraping coming from the upstairs.
Libby looked at Evan who shrugged and went back to texting on his phone.
"Remember Jessica and Collin?" Evan asked without looking up.
Libby rolled her eyes. "You mean the handsy chemistry majors? They left an impression."
"Yeah, well they're getting married in a couple of weeks."
"It's turning into wedding central. First, Larson from the apartment complex, now Jessica and Collin. I thought they started dating only a couple months ago."
"They did. They've moved on to the getting married stage. I need a date for the wedding."
"Why not go by yourself? Scared you'll be the only single man there?"
"I don't like to dance alone."
"Too embarrassing?"
"I don't want the world to be jealous of my skills. Besides, it's not fair to steal all the attention from the bride and groom."
"Fine, I'll find you a date."
"Oh, so you have friends now?"
"No, I thought I'd find you something on Match.com."
Marcie chuckled as she walked into the living room. "Maybe even Tinder."
Libby smirked. "No, they might swipe left."
"Very funny, you two. I'm sitting right here." Evan waved his phone at them.
Marcie set down the large cushion she had been carrying. She pushed it close to the couch and straightened out the wrinkles. It was a cushioned dog bed. "Why don't you ask Harvey's daughter as your wedding date? I hear she's back from college for the summer."
Evan visibly shuddered. "I prefer not to invite stalkers into my life."
Libby continued stroking Bebe's soft head. "That girl sounds interesting. Why don't you ask her?"
Marcie sent her a devious smile and pulled her phone from her p
ocket. "Let me text Tracy — that's Harvey's wife if you haven't met her yet, Libby. I'll ask her if Clarissa is available. What day did you say the wedding was?"
Evan was starting to look slightly horrified. "I'll go by myself. It's not that sad to be single at a wedding. Besides, there's only one person I'd want as my wedding date."
Evan's eyes locked onto Libby's. She held her breath as she stared into his warm, green eyes. He slowly reached a hand toward her. Was he going to say something? Was he actually interested? Libby's heart hammered in her chest. She wondered if each heartbeat was visible.
Evan scooped up Bebe from Libby's lap and winked at Libby.
"Beatrice is the perfect date."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"The pipes burst."
Libby set down the apple she'd been eating. "Va wat?"
Evan leaned back in a chair at the kitchen table and grabbed a muffin out of the bakery box. Marcie had walked into town with Libby that morning, and they brought back breakfast. Marcie told Libby she was starting her first round of edits. Libby expected to see a headline any day now of someone discovering a murdered body.
"My supervisor emailed. There were leaking pipes; it was the sprinkler system that went haywire. They have to do some damage control. The office is closed for the next couple of weeks. I don't have to go back to work for a while."
"You're not worried?"
"No, I called my supervisor, and he told me that they were contacting clients to let them know there would be a two-week delay due to extenuating circumstances. The whole office is shut down, not just us newbies."
"Oh good. You enjoying it so far?"
"It's been good. It's nice to actually work instead of classes and internships."
"I'd bet. I'm looking forward to getting to work. I actually should read my new employee handbook," Libby mused. "So, what are you going to do with all your time off?"
"Whatever I feel like. Let's go to town today."
"But what about Marcie?"
"She said she planned on writing all afternoon."
"Okay, sounds good. It'd be nice to get out of Colter a little. I haven't left town since I got here. I'll drive!"
Evan's face looked slightly panicked. "Heck no. I'm not riding in that thing you call a car."
"It's a perfectly acceptable car. Besides, you've ridden in it before."
"I know. I've helped you tape that car back together too many times to count," he said as he rolled his eyes.
Libby scowled at him as she marched past to snatch her purse from the coat hook.
"Are you coming or not?"
There was no reason to be mad at Evan. She knew her little car was on the verge of death. It had been nearly there for the past year or two.
She wanted to get a new car, but by driving around her old one, she had been able to make it out of college without any debt. Aunt Leanne had been adamant about Libby getting through college without debt. Leanne had paid for all of her books, and with the help of several part-time jobs, four different scholarships, and the beans-and-rice diet, she made it through. The scholarships had made the biggest difference.
Libby planned on getting a new one as soon as possible, but right now, Evan would have to man up and climb in. She climbed into the front seat and slammed the door — not because she was angry, but because the door only latched if it was slammed.
Libby was mildly surprised when the passenger door opened and a disgruntled Evan climbed in. His knees hit the dashboard. He looked at his knees and then at Libby. He pretended to scowl, but he couldn't hide the smile.
Libby laughed at the picture he made crammed into the front seat of the car. "You know, there may be more room in the back for you?"
"Very funny. Why don't you start this thing, or do I need to get out and give it a push start?"
Libby shook her finger at him. "Actually, this is a year newer than that model. All you need to start this car is the right combination."
Libby proceeded to pump the clutch repeatedly then turn the key in the ignition three times before it started.
"See? Nothing to it. Now, aren't you glad you didn't have to get out and push?" She smiled at him.
Libby was aware of Evan's hand on the back of her seat as she backed out of the driveway, the car creaking as it entered the road.
"That combination makes this car safer than any alarm."
"Yes, this car is ahead of its time. Pretty soon, all the new ones will be started with a combination. You'll be able to claim you've ridden in one of the earliest models."
"What a privilege," he said in a dry tone.
Libby narrowed her eyes and pretended to glare at him.
"Hey, watch out! Helen's crossing the road!" he yelled.
Libby slammed on the brakes and looked around. He was right; Helen was crossing the road.
A quarter of a mile away.
Seeing as how she had been driving twenty miles per hour, she would have had plenty of time to stop without his warning.
"I had forgotten that you're one of those," Libby groaned.
Evan held onto the door handle. "One of what?"
"One of those backseat drivers."
"Me? A backseat driver? Heck no. I'm not the nervous type. Do you see that stop sign?"
Libby slammed on the brakes repeatedly until they jerked to a stop at the stop sign. "Fine, if you're going to be so nervous, you drive."
She climbed out of the driver’s seat, walked around to the passenger side, and opened his door. "You can drive. I can't stand backseat drivers, and unlike you, I'm not an uptight bundle of nerves."
Evan didn't move. He looked from her to the driver's seat of the car and then back again.
"I can't drive stick."
"You can't drive — what?" Libby rubbed her ears.
"I can't drive a manual," he repeated with a groan. "Why do you think I've never offered to drive before?"
"I was pretty sure that was what you said. How do you live this long and never learn to drive a stick?"
"I don't know, good luck maybe?"
"Ha, that's not good luck. What if you're stranded in the desert and the only thing you have is a stick-shift car? Guess what? You'll be cursing your good luck then." Libby slammed the passenger door and marched back around to the driver's side and jumped in. "No more backseat driving."
"Okay, no more backseat driving. Pinky promise." He lifted his hand up.
Libby linked her pinky with his. His was twice the size of hers.
"Oh, and I'm going to teach you to drive stick when we get back from shopping."
"Wonderful," Evan said in a tone that said it was anything but.
"What are we shopping for, anyways?"
"Cars."
Libby snorted. He said “cars” like it was the most normal thing to go shopping for on a lazy Saturday morning. "You're buying another car? I thought you just bought yours."
"No, I'm buying you a car."
Libby slammed the brakes on the car so hard that Evan hit his head against the windshield.
"What. Did. You. Say?"
Evan rubbed his forehead as he answered her. "I said, 'I'm buying you a car.'"
"No, you're not. I don't need you to buy me a car."
"If you're going to be driving around Portland, you need a more reliable car than this thing."
"This car is reliable."
Libby chewed her top lip as she restarted the car. The downside of manuals: forget the clutch and they die. Something thumped in the engine as the starter turned over. It took ten tries before it started up again.
Evan gave her an “I told you so” look.
"Don't. Don't you say a word," Libby growled.
Evan pretended to zip his lips closed. But the silence only lasted for a moment.
"Libby, I want to do something nice for you. Let me spoil you with this. Please."
"Why? There has to be a reason!"
"Why does there have to be a reason? You're my friend. I'm tired of worrying abou
t you driving this thing around. Trust me when I tell you, you would be doing me a favor by getting a new car. I would be able to sleep at night. I wouldn't be worrying that you died in a ditch somewhere because your engine exploded."
"Dramatic much?"
Evan shrugged. "Grandma's rubbing off on me."
"Evan, you're not buying me a car."
"What-"
"But," she continued over him, "you can take me car shopping today."
"Libby, I want to buy you a car."
"It's out of the question."
Evan scowled and looked out the window. "It could be your hazard pay for staying with Grandma this summer."
Libby smirked. "Your Grandma's crazy, but I like her. And I don't want hazard pay for living with her."
Evan smiled at that. "She is fun; I'll give her that."
"I've meant to get a new car anyway. Might as well start looking."
"Listen, Libby. I don't want to seem insensitive, but cars take money."
"And what are you? Mr. Moneybags? My fairy godmother?"
"I'd prefer being called ‘The Godfather,’ but I could work with Mr. Moneybags."
"Evan, you can't just go around offering to buy people cars."
"You're not 'people.' You're you."
"Well, thank you for that clarification." Libby rolled her eyes.
"Libby, I know you were scraping by in college. I want to help take some of that pressure off of you."
Libby swallowed. She hated to feel like she needed people, but the fact that he wanted to do something nice, to help her, made her want to kiss him and punch him at the same time. "Evan, you can't buy me a car. It's too weird. But I appreciate that you care. I could only ever let family or my husband buy me a car."
"What about a boyfriend?"
"It would depend on how serious we were. Otherwise, I'd feel like a call girl."
Evan snorted. "So, basically, the only way you would let me buy you a car is if we were married?"
"Pretty much."
Evan adjusted the seat to lean backward, but it fell all the way back, hitting the backseat. "So, how many kids should we have?"
The Perfect Plan Page 21
