“Evan and I have decided that we’re probably best off if we keep our dates a little less public,” Ava announced as she came into the front of the pie shop, a pie in hand.

Or more interestingly, an unburnt, seemingly fully baked, pie. Which would make it a rarity in the pie shop.

“You talked to Evan?” Cori asked, pretending that her heart wasn’t suddenly racing.

“He just called,” Ava said. “He’s coming over for a movie night tonight.”

It had been three nights since Cori and Ava had switched places at the restaurant. And Evan had given Cori an orgasm in the cab of his truck. And then kicked her out of the cab of that truck.

“Movie night sounds like a good idea,” Brynn said from where she was hanging a set of the new curtains in the front window. “That’s a totally normal thing for a dating couple to do, his truck will be in the driveway, but it’s not out in front of everyone.”

“Exactly.” Ava set the pie on the counter.

“But you have to actually watch the movie with him,” Cori said. “That’s the deal. You doing fun, normal dating-type stuff.”

“I know. I intend to. He’s going to bring dinner and the movie over.”

“What time?” Cori asked, knowing she was going to either need to hide in her room or avoid the house. She didn’t know exactly what had happened the other night, but things had been intense. And no matter what emotions and thoughts had been swirling around in that truck, the bottom line was that her sister’s supposed boyfriend had had his hands on her bottom line.

She and Evan needed to behave, and apparently the only way to really do that, was to avoid one another.

And yeah, her ego was a little stung. Or very stung. She’d been half-naked on his lap. A lap that had purportedly had a lot of half-naked in it. And he’d said goodnight.

That bit of humiliation was making avoiding him a lot easier.

“Around seven,” Ava said.

“Okay.” It sucked that Bliss didn’t have a bar. And she couldn’t really go over to the next town that did have a bar, drink, and then drive home. Dammit. She was going to have to find something to do that didn’t involve liquor.

She was pretty sure she could do that. Probably.

“Come taste this,” Ava said. “I think I’ve got it.”

“You’ve got it?” Brynn asked. “As in, you made a good pie?”

“I think so.” Ava looked pleased, and both Cori and Brynn set down what they were doing to join her at the counter.

She handed them each a fork. Cori and Brynn looked at each other and quickly did rock-paper-scissors. Cori lost.

“Seriously?” Ava asked, as Cori stepped up to be the first to try the pie.

Cori just shrugged. “No sense in both of us having to wash our mouths out.”

Ava rolled her eyes. Cori dug her fork into the pie at one edge. It was cherry, which was generally her favorite. She took out a tiny forkful and gingerly lifted it to her lips.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Ava muttered. She picked up another fork and dug a huge bite out, putting it in her mouth.

Cori took the bite and chewed. Then she frowned, and scooped up another bite. The second was as good as the first. “Holy crap, Ava. You did do it.”

“Really?” Brynn grabbed a fork. She was nodding within seconds. “Wow, you did. This is really good.”

Ava smiled, nodded, then grimaced.

“What’s going on?” Cori asked, taking one more bite, then thought about how Ava’s skirt had been too tight on her and set her fork down. Then she thought about how she’d taken that skirt off and everything that happened after it, and she smiled and got a little flushed and then frowned and picked her fork back up. Because all she had now was pie. Because she was crazy about Evan, and Evan was really, really good with his mouth and just as good with his fingers…and she hadn’t gotten to know how good he was with other parts. But she sure as hell had imagined it all night long.

Yeah, she was going to eat pie. Because the guy she was falling for had tossed her out of his truck after giving her one of the fastest orgasms of her life, and he was now coming over to watch movies with her sister.

“Okay, I made that pie,” Ava said.

Brynn and Cori nodded, both still chewing.

“But,” Ava went on. “I didn’t make the parts of the pie.”

Cori narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I paid a woman for her pie crusts. And I bought the pie filling.”

Cori set her fork down. “Ava.”

“I know, I know. But listen,” Ava said quickly. “I am making the pies. I’m getting my hands messy. I’m learning my way around the kitchen. That’s the point, right? That’s what I’m supposed to be doing.” She sighed. “I can’t make a pie crust to save my life. I don’t get it and it’s making me crazy, but I can’t. And we can’t keep going like this. We have to get the shop open and since it’s a pie shop, we need to have pie.”

“So you found a loophole,” Cori said. She glanced at Brynn. “You are both finding all these loopholes in this plan.” She had to laugh. “I’m impressed. I thought I was the only loophole girl in this little trio.”

“Well,” Ava said. “How am I doing?”

Cori looked down at the pie, then at her sisters. “It’s homemade crust?”

“Yep. And,” Ava added, “I paid her to adapt the recipe to make it something that would be exclusive to us. She won’t make it any other time, even on her own.”

“How did she adapt it?”

“I have no idea.”

Cori couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, we have an exclusive, homemade crust that you have to bake.”

“And fill,” Ava said.

Cori and Brynn laughed. “That’s gotta count. At least partially,” Cori agreed.

Ava smiled, but she looked earnest as she said, “It’s just that if Dad wanted me to learn about creating the product from scratch, I’m doing that. I know about making pie crusts now…I just suck at it. And I am making the pies—at least I’m putting them together. But I’ve also realized the weakness in my process, and I’ve fixed it. It’s resourceful.”

Cori shook her head. “No wonder you always get your way in the board room.”

Ava gave her a smile. “Well, maybe not always.”

Yeah, well, ninety-eight percent of the time was pretty much always.

“We have pie now,” Brynn said. “When can we open?”

“How many crusts to do you have?” Cori asked.

“A dozen,” Ava said. “I figure that’s optimistic for our first week.”

Cori would love to debate that, but she thought Ava might have a point.

“Okay, but you’re going to have to hide the pie filling cans,” Brynn said, pointing at Ava. “You know Parker will be all over that.”

“Ugh,” Ava said, with an eye roll. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure that out. But you—” she said, pointing a finger at Cori’s nose, “—have to keep your trap shut around Evan.”

Cori dug another scoop out of the pie and said, “No worries.”

She chewed as her sisters shared a look.

“What’s that mean?” Ava asked.

“Evan is avoiding me. And vice versa.”

They shared another look.

“Why?” Brynn asked.

Cori took another bite and shrugged. “Because I was myself,” she said around the mouthful of deliciously flaky crust and sweet-and-tart filling.

“And what’s that mean?” Ava asked.

Cori swallowed. “A nice guy steps up to help me and my sisters take care of the crazy-assed crap our crazy-assed father put in his crazy-assed trust and what did I do? I flirted, I kissed him, I fell for him, and then when he gave me a ride home, while I’m pretending to be my sister don’t forget, I climbed into his lap and had an orgasm.”

Brynn started choking and Ava’s mouth, literally, fell open.

Cori took the final bite of her pie and seriously considered taking another piece. She chewed as she watched her sisters process everything.

“You had an orgasm just sitting on his lap?” Brynn asked.

Cori swallowed and pushed her plate away. But not too far. “Well, Evan helped.”

Brynn nodded. “Okay, that makes more sense.”

Cori snorted, in spite of the fact that she was feeling stupid and sheepish.

“So he helped. That’s good. What’s the problem?” Ava asked. “Why is he avoiding you now?”

“Because—” She blew out a breath. “I brought a St. Bernard to the party,” Cori said.

There was a pause, then it was Ava that snorted. “Oh, honey, that’s not what you did.”

“It is,” Cori said. “He wanted me there. I’m not saying that he didn’t. But he didn’t realize that I always get carried away.”

“You made out—and very well from the sounds of it—with a guy you like, who really likes you. I sincerely doubt he regrets anything about it,” Ava said.

“Then why didn’t he keep going?” Cori asked. The question had been nagging her ever since. Evan Stone didn’t seem like the type of guy to pull back from a very clear offer from a half-naked woman. Hell, he’d slept with Jill and he said that he’d known, even at the time to some extent, that he shouldn’t have. “After the dog debacle, Dad escorted me out of the building immediately before I could cause any more damage,” Cori said. “The other night Evan got me out of the truck as quickly as he could. He didn’t even unbutton his shirt.”

Brynn was biting her bottom lip and looking unsure.

“Maybe it was just that it was our driveway and we weren’t too far behind and…” Ava trailed off.

“It wasn’t the right time or place,” Cori filled in.

“Yeah,” Ava agreed.

“Yeah.” That was the story of her life. It seemed she had a lot of trouble finding the right time and place to be herself.

* * *

Instead of hanging out at the house or trying to kill time at the diner or heading to the bar in the next town, Cori spent “movie night” in the kitchen at the pie shop. She wasn’t supposed to be the one creating the pies for the customers, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be in the place at all. And it definitely beat hiding in her room or, worse, joining Evan and Ava on the couch for their date night. In their living room, there would be no reason for Cori to stand in for Ava, and even though she knew nothing was really going to happen between Evan and Ava, seeing Evan after the whole…thing…the other night did not sound fun.

But having the pie shop kitchen all to herself was perfect. She could experiment with some new pie ideas and, for the first time, feel like she was working while Ava was relaxing.

And she was being supportive. She’d made Ava and Evan two kinds of popcorn and had put extra pillows on the couch, because you couldn’t have a good movie night without pillows and popcorn. Everyone knew that.

It wasn’t until she had the pie ready for the oven that she realized that Evan was here with her anyway. She’d made Nutella bacon pie.

With a sigh, she slid it into the oven. Well, it wasn’t like Nutella and bacon was a bad idea. Ever. But it was annoying that even when she was trying to be good and stay out of the way, all of the things she really wanted wouldn’t leave her alone. She couldn’t leave Bliss the way she used to leave places when she started to feel restless or in the way. She could hang out at the house with them, but she’d never been very good at resisting temptation. Which Evan Stone most definitely was. And, evidently, she wasn’t very good at distracting herself.

She did the dishes, and then looked around. The quiet was nice. Time alone was nice. Living and working with her sisters meant they spent a lot of time together. Having a break was great.

Really great.

Super great.

Oh, who was she kidding? Cori sighed. She was the social one. She’d lived alone here and there, but she did prefer roommates. It often worked out to sublease from someone since she tended to not stay in one place for the entire length of a typical rental agreement. Hell, she could use some more noise and conversation that wasn’t about pie and paint. At the house, her sisters were busy and kept to themselves unless she made them come out of their rooms/offices and socialize.

Cori wandered to the front of the shop, taking in the new paint and cushions and curtains. It was looking really nice and there was no way this wouldn’t be a huge surprise to the people of Bliss when they came in. If they came in. She blew out a breath as she turned in a circle. People had to come in. Because she and Brynn and Ava needed the money. That wasn’t a position any of them had been in before, and it felt strange having to worry about paying bills. How did they bring in more money? How much could they bring in? If they only brought in so much, what should they spend it on? They needed to take care of the essentials, of course. Thankfully, the cost of living in Bliss was very low, and the few hundred dollars in the bank account were keeping the lights and water on at the shop. But the bills would keep coming, and then she really would like to buy some less-than-essentials. New pie pans. A bigger mixer. Of course, Rudy had gotten by with a hand mixer for years…

Cori shook her head. If it wasn’t Evan on her mind, it was Rudy. Or both.

She sat down at one of the tables and checked out the shop from that perspective. They needed something on the walls behind the front counter. Maybe a framed inspirational poster. She laughed. Okay, maybe not. But framed artwork would be nice. And she really wanted to put a chalkboard menu up. And then she’d need colored chalk. Lots of colored chalk. She loved colored chalk. Well, colored everything.

But chalk—colored or otherwise—was way down the list of priorities.

They had to make the shop profitable, and the adjustment from not-a-financial-care-in-the-world to where’s-the-grocery-money-going-to-come-from was taking a while. They all had personal accounts and credit cards. They weren’t supposed to use those for the shop—they were using the business account and the new card Cori had gotten for that—but their own checking accounts were keeping the fridge stocked and the utilities on at the house. They were secure, not homeless or starving, but they definitely had to figure the shop stuff out. They had some time, but they were going to need it.

And she knew that had been her father’s plan.

They needed time to realize that it was not a game. That it was real. And important.

And the thing was, it was becoming both of those things. Far faster than she would have ever expected.

Cori pivoted to look out the front window from the table. The curtains had turned out great. They were white with cherries, strawberries, lemons, grapes and blueberries. They weren’t making strawberry or lemon pie. Yet. And probably wouldn’t be making grape pie. Though she did intend to use grape jelly on some of the peanut butter and jelly pies. Still, the curtains were great and appropriate. And what she liked the best about them was that she and Brynn—and Noah—had made them together.

Okay, Dad, you might have known what you were doing.

Rudy Carmichael had been a brilliant businessman. But now Cori was starting to think that maybe he was just brilliant.

Cori rested her chin on her hand and studied the view outside her window. Her window. That didn’t sound as strange as it should. The shop was at the east end of Main and she could see the edge of the park from here. The park was huge. It ran through the middle of town with Main Street bordering it for five blocks and then continued seven more blocks to the man-made lake at the edge of town. There was a walking/running/bike trail, a playground area, three picnic and barbecue spots, and an impressive enclosure at the center that could be used for birthday parties and reunions and such.

Maybe she should start doing the books here. She’d been doing them at home when Ava and Brynn went to work. But the adding and subtracting didn’t take long. Here, at least she’d have something nice to look at while she pretended the work took longer than it did. The view outside the window was pretty and inside it smelled like sugar and coffee and…pie. Crap! Cori shot out of her chair and ran to the kitchen where her pie was hopefully not too done.

She pulled it from the oven just in time. She set it on the cooling rack and tossed the hot pads on the counter. Then she turned and surveyed the kitchen. The kitchen that still perplexed her.

It really did look like a kitchen in a home. A big kitchen, but still very…homey. Which was the root of the confusion. This was Rudy’s kitchen. Ava had been working so hard to figure the pies out, that she hadn’t changed a thing. This was what their father had surrounded himself with purposefully for almost five years. It was where he’d spent his last days.

And the best way to describe how that made her feel was perplexed.

She’d looked through the house, but there was mostly just normal house stuff—dishes and furniture and a few books. But no papers or photos. Parker had told Ava that the guys had cleaned out Rudy’s clothes and shoes. But there was no indication that they’d taken any personal items out of the house.

And that didn’t perplex her. Prior to moving to Bliss, Rudy had lived in a professionally decorated penthouse with expensive furniture and artwork and no personal touches. In Bliss, he lived in a…house. A comfortable, homey house that had no professional touches. But also didn’t have many personal touches.

Prior to Bliss, he’d worked in a professionally decorated office with expensive furniture and artwork and no personal touches. But now, looking around the pie shop, Cori saw personal touches. Sure, the furniture and appliances were someone else’s, but he’d clearly preferred these over buying restaurant-grade stuff, and he didn’t have any connection to the appliances that had cooled and cooked his food before moving here. He’d had cooks to do all of the prep. She doubted that he’d set foot in the kitchen in his penthouse more than a handful of times, if that. Yet, in Bliss he’d not only gone into a kitchen on a regular basis, but he’d actually had two kitchens. And had spent most of his time in one of them. This one. With the regular bowls, the beat-up wooden spoons, the pot holders with cows on them that he could have easily bought at Target—and the idea of Rudy Carmichael in a Target made her almost giggle—the shop was more like a home than his home in New York had ever been. Was it possible that this place had turned into the home he’d never had? One that he’d always, on some level, wanted?

The pie was still too warm to eat, so Cori was stuck with a situation that rarely turned out well for her—she had time on her hands and nothing to do.

On impulse, she headed for the “office”. The closet with the folding table in it was as far from Rudy’s office in New York as he could have gotten. She pulled the door open. No way had he worked in here. Of course, from the looks of his books, he hadn’t done much office work at all.

But still…she couldn’t help but wonder what else might be different here. She regarded the middle drawer in the file cabinet with her arms crossed. They hadn’t opened that one. They’d—she’d—assumed that it only had an empty tape dispenser or a broken pencil in it. Or nothing in it.

But now, if she opened that drawer and there was nothing there, she’d be disappointed. She couldn’t lie. She wanted this place to have been different for Rudy on every level. When she was a little girl and had gone to his office and had opened his drawers, they’d been full. They’d had fancy pens in them and engraved stationary and everything had smelled like leather. If this drawer had nothing in it, that would be different, she supposed. The broken phone and stapler were different. But she wanted…more different.

And if that drawer smelled like leather, she was going to be upset.

She glanced over at the pie pans, rolling pin, and canisters that held flour and sugar. Okay, there were lots of differences. There wasn’t a gold gilded clock or a gold gilded lamp or anything that was gold gilded anywhere in the building. Maybe the town.

Rudy had made pie. For his friends. True friends, not business acquaintances. Men who knew nothing about, well, anything Rudy did in New York. He’d had coffee every day with men who made their livings running the hardware store on Main, teaching science at the high school, farming, and building houses and barns. Rudy Carmichael had nothing in common with these men. But they mourned his passing more than people who’d known him for over forty years.

She blew out a breath and reached for the drawer of the cabinet.

It was empty. Except for three photos, all obviously printed off from the internet. Her hand shook slightly as she reached for them. The top one was of Ava from an article about her winning a women in business award. The next was Brynn’s photo from the lab’s website. And the last was of Cori.

Her heart flipped.

This one was from her Facebook page. Which meant that not had he gone looking for it, but it was completely candid. She was standing on a mountain with a huge grin with lots of white, sparkly snow behind her. She remembered that day. But she barely remembered the two girls with their arms around her. She’d spent a winter at that resort working in the shop where they rented out skis and snowboards. It had been one of many jobs and places she’d lived temporarily, and she’d never made a point to keep Rudy updated on where she was, but it looked like he’d found her. At least once.

She wondered if Ava and Brynn remembered the day they’d had their photos taken. Probably not. What they were wearing and where they were posed were the same as a hundred other days in their lives.

She looked at her photo and then at her sisters’ photos. They were so different.

But her smile was bigger.

She wondered if her dad had noticed that.

Cori sniffed. Okay, this place was not what she’d expected. But she’d always liked surprises and she thought she was ready for a few more.

She pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialed. A minute later the man she wanted to talk to most at the moment answered.

“Hey, Hank. It’s Cori. I was wondering if you and the guys were available for some pie and coffee and conversation.”

* * *

She somehow managed not to go straight to Evan’s house after her two hours of pie and conversation with Hank and the guys.

Well, she did go straight to Evan’s house. She’d heard so many stories about her dad that her head was reeling, and for some reason, she’d thought that Evan would love to know.

But she’d kept herself from actually knocking on his door. His house was at the end of a short dirt road—she didn’t miss the symbolism of that, at least the symbolism in her mind—and she’d stood at the end of the road in front of his house for a good ten minutes. But she hadn’t gone any closer. Or knocked on his door. Or thrown pebbles at his windows. Or called him.

She’d been proud of herself.

But the whole stuck-here-for-a-year thing was rubbed in her face three nights later. Because Ava had decided to have a game night. And apparently game night included Cori. And Brynn and Parker and Noah. And, of course, Evan. In fact, she was seated straight across from him at the dining room table, trying to avoid looking at him while Brynn considered her poker hand.

Not looking at him was incredibly hard. Harder than not knocking on his door. Because she really liked looking at him. And because she really liked how he looked at her.

Finally, Brynn laid down her straight flush.

“It took you that long to put those down?” Cori demanded, then laughed. “You were just making us sweat.”

“The sweet ones are the ones you have to look out for,” Noah said, smiling as he watched Brynn scrape her winnings toward the already huge pile of chips in front of her.

“There’s more to me than you might guess,” Brynn said cheekily. The cheekiness was aided by the beer she was drinking, but it was absolutely as cute as it would have been without the drink. She narrowed her eyes then. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

Ava laughed. “I should let you think that.”

“You let her win sometimes?” Noah asked.

“They let me win so it feels better than me just beating them all the time,” Brynn said.

Ava laughed. “You’ve never drawn the long straw without help.”

“But every spelling bee you’ve ever won was because I let you,” Brynn told her.

Cori gave a low whistle. Ava knew that but they’d never said it out loud.

Ava sighed. “Yeah, okay. But I really was a better public speaker.”

“Still are,” Brynn agreed. “And I beat you at every science fair.”

“What did you win at?” Evan asked Cori.

Dammit, now she was going to have to look at him. She gave him a tight smile. “Against my sisters? Nothing. Ever.”

“You guys never let Cori win at anything?” Evan asked Brynn and Ava with a frown.

Oh, boy, that little bit of protectiveness was way too nice. “It wasn’t like that,” Cori said.

Ava laughed. “Cori would never have let us help her win anything.”

“Yeah, we were all in that spelling bee,” Brynn said, slurring spelling with bee slightly. “We all got up there and since they went alphabetical by last name, we went in a row. Ava spelled hers right, I spelled my first one right, and then Cori got up there and got the word macaroni. She spelled it wrong on purpose. The very first word.”

“You added an extra C or something?” Parker asked.

“Oh no,” Brynn jumped in enthusiastically before Cori could reply. “She spelled it i-h-a-t-e-t-h-i-s and then took a bow and walked off the stage. Right up the center aisle.”

Parker snorted. “Not into spelling bees, Cori?”

“Not into performing for our dad,” Cori said, before she really thought better of it.

“What’s that mean?” Evan asked, with another frown.

Cori sighed. These guys all thought Rudy was amazing and she was starting to understand that maybe he had been. Here. With them. But he hadn’t always been, and if these guys were going to be their friends, then they needed to know where the girls were coming from. “That was our fourth-grade spelling bee. It was the first time that our dad came to any of our school stuff. And it was when the three of us were up against each other. He was really into us being better than everyone else. And he was into which of us was smarter and tougher and better under pressure. I wasn’t going to stand up there and compete for his entertainment.”

Everyone was quiet for a few seconds until Ava lifted her glass of beer and said, “From then on, I was good at all the big public stuff and Brynn was good at all the behind the scenes stuff.”

“And Cori was good at…” Evan asked, clearly wanting her sisters to fill in the blank.

“Making sure we never missed a scary movie and knew every move to every popular dance and that we each colored our hair at least once.”

Cori felt a little catch her chest at the way her sister was looking at her. It was an expression full of affection, and for a second she felt stinging in her eyes.

“Only because she was letting you both be all kick-ass and—”

“Evan,” Ava interrupted. “It was awesome. We loved all of that.”

Cori pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything, or grinning, at the look on Evan’s face.

“What color?” Noah asked into the awkward moment.

“What color what?” Brynn asked.

“What color did you color your hair?”

Brynn grinned. “I had black stripes for a while.”

Noah lifted a brow.

“And I was a redhead for a while.”

He nodded slowly. “Nice.”

“She rocked that red hair,” Cori said.

“I’ll bet.” The look on his face was thoughtful. “But I like the blonde.”

Brynn blushed at that. And Ava laughed. “I was just going to say that your poker face is scary, Nerd Girl,” Ava told her. “But maybe it’s not as rock solid as I thought.”

“Shut up,” Brynn muttered, still blushing.

“Seriously though, I might need you at the negotiating table,” Ava said.

“Well, maybe I can just come to a meeting some time and pretend to be you,” Brynn said. “Like Cori’s been doing.”

Cori felt her cheeks flush. Everyone thought Brynn was the sweet one, but she’d just thrown Cori under the bus to get the attention off of her and her reactions to Noah. Wow. Cori turned to Parker, desperate for another topic. “Well, I guess if game night is supposed to be a date, then it’s you and me, huh?”

Parker opened his mouth to reply, but Noah and Brynn said, simultaneously, “This isn’t a date.”

“Well, hey, you can be my date then, Brynn,” Parker said, and Cori wanted to kiss him.

But Noah scowled at him. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothing,” Parker said with a shrug. “Evan and Ava are a pair and Cori isn’t my type. So if you’re not gonna date Brynn, then maybe I should.”

“Hey,” Cori protested, not really caring but unable to let it go by without comment. “Why am I not your type?”

“You’re too much fun,” Parker said.

“And that’s bad?”

“I don’t like to have fun.”

Cori snorted. “Oh, then you need someone like me.”

“He’s fine.” The two firm words came from Evan.

Cori couldn’t help but glance at him again. It would be really nice if he’d stop talking. And getting offended on her behalf. And acting possessive. Like he was now. He was watching her intently. And he didn’t look happy. Yeah, well, she wasn’t happy either. Though, she had to admit that she didn’t feel unhappy. Just kind of…unsatisfied. Tense. Itchy. Yeah, itchy fit. Itchy like her clothes were too tight and scratchy and in the way. Like she wanted to take them all off. And have someone…scratch her itch. Someone with big, strong hands and long fingers.

She cleared her throat. Parker had long fingers. Hell, Noah did too. And he did manual work with his hands. If Brynn wasn’t going to date him, maybe Cori should.

Of course, she didn’t want to.

“And you’re not supposed to be dating anyone,” Evan said.

And then there was that. “Well, then it’s a good thing this isn’t a date for anyone but you and Ava,” she said.

He looked like he was about to reply, but Noah said, “Yeah, you don’t need to date Brynn,” to Parker. “This is date night for Ava and Evan. Only.”

Okay, this was sufficiently distracting. And entertaining. Cori leaned in. “But Brynn is supposed to be dating,” she pointed out. “And she hasn’t even started.”

“She’s got plenty of time,” Noah said, still scowling.

Brynn’s cheeks were bright red. “We just got here.”

“Well, and you’ve been busy,” Cori said. She paused, then added, “With painting, and sewing, and stuff.”

All things that Noah had been around for.

“Right. Exactly.” Brynn sat up straighter. “Should we play again?” She started shuffling.

“Sure.”

“You bet.”

“Ava and I are just getting our signals down,” Evan said.

“Signals?” Brynn asked.

“Sure, the ones we’re using to cheat,” Evan said, giving that teasing grin that made Cori want to take her clothes off and climb right back into his lap, regardless of the fact that the last time had been kind of a bust.

“You’re cheating?” Brynn asked.

“We’re trying,” Evan said.

Brynn laughed. “Neither of you have won a single hand.”

“Well, we’re still figuring it out.” He gave Ava a wink and Cori shot to her feet.

“Who else needs a refill?” Cori honestly wasn’t sure how much more friendly, not-a-date-but-kind-of-a-date poker she could take. At least without more vodka and pomegranate juice. Or beer. Since that was what was being served tonight.

She took orders and headed for the kitchen with empty glasses and bottles. She rounded the corner into the kitchen and put a wall between her and Evan and all that fucking charm he just couldn’t shut off. It didn’t matter that Ava seemed unaffected by it all.

“Do you need help?”

She squeaked as Evan pushed through the door right next to where she was leaning. She straightened quickly and managed to not drop anything. “Nope, I’m good,” she said, moving toward the sink.

“You can’t carry all of that by yourself.”

“I’m very strong.” She set the glasses down. “And have wonderful balance.” She turned to face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “And I’m incredibly flexible.”

Yeah, okay, she maybe shouldn’t have said that. That was taunting him. Or poking him. Or something. But honestly, she was lucky that was all she’d said.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She lifted a brow. He was going to apologize for tossing her out of the truck?

“I thought tonight would be a good idea. Something fun for Ava that I’m guessing she doesn’t do often, or ever. But not public. But not just the two of us.”

Oh, that. Cori shrugged. “Hey, I’m all for game night.”

He watched her for a long moment. Then said, “But you didn’t have anything to do with this game night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re playing poker and eating chips and dip and drinking beer,” Evan said.

“So?”

“So, you made strawberry popcorn for us the other night.”

Cori swallowed hard and crossed her arms. “You didn’t like it?”

He laughed and took a step closer to her. Then seemed to realize that he shouldn’t do that and stopped and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I loved it, Cori. It was great. So was the chili lime popcorn.”

She relaxed a little, but tried not to show it. “Well, I didn’t know if you’d prefer sweet or savory.”

Again there was a long moment of quiet. Then he said, “Sweet.” His voice sounded a little gruff. “If I had to pick, it would always be sweet.”

She cleared her throat. “What’s your point?”

“You made popcorn, and not just any popcorn, for other people. There’s no way that if you were in charge of game night that we’d be having chips and dip from a container.”

“You don’t like the dip?”

He blew out a breath and gave her a look. “Of course, I do. It’s fine. It’s stuff I’ve eaten a million times. I like it. I’ll eat it again, another million times.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he asked, “What would you have done with game night?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But she shifted against the counter. No, none of tonight was her idea. Ava had set it up. And it was fine. Chips and beer went perfectly with poker, and poker was a great game. Lots of fun.

“Yes you do. Come on,” he said. “What would you have done with game night?”

“I didn’t think about it.” She hadn’t. She’d very specifically not thought about it.

“So think about it now.”

“I need time to plan something. I can’t just pull an idea out.”

“Yes you can.”

“Why is this so important?”

“Because…I just want to know,” he finally said. “And I want you to see it.”

“See what?”

“That even things that are completely fine, good even, are better with your touch.”

Oh man. She wasn’t good at resisting things she wanted on the best day. But when that thing said things like that? Character building. This is character building. She squeezed her arms, reminding herself she needed to be hands-off with Evan. “Yeah, well, sometimes I touch things too much.”

He shook his head slowly. “Not for me.”

Geez.

Finally, he sighed and turned. “Okay, back to poker.”

He pushed the door open and Cori felt her mouth open without conscious command. “Adult Candy Land.”

He turned back. “How do you play?”

“Each color means you have to do something different. Sing, act out a scene, do the hokey pokey, give someone a compliment, take a shot.”

“With all different kinds of candy for snacks?”

“Candy themed shots,” she said. “And spiked gummy bears.”

He gave her a big, satisfied smile. “That’s my girl.”

Then he went back to the dining room. And Cori went back to pretending that she wasn’t falling in love for the first time in her life and complicating everything when she wasn’t even supposed to be dating and when her life had half a chance at being pretty simple for a change. Because that would be just a little too typical.