When Alec Met Evie (Appies, #6)

by Jenny Proctor

Apparently, imagining Alec wielding a hammer is more than enough to reignite my long-dormant feelings, because a twinge of something familiar pushes against my ribcage, making my chest flush with heat and my skin tingle with awareness. Except…no. Those are not feelings I need. I can feel gratitude, maybe even hints of admiration. But now is not the time for a crush, and not just because he’s my best friend’s older brother.

Barely a year out from my divorce, I’m not even sure I’m capable of the emotions a relationship would require. Not that I would actually expect the internet’s favorite hockey captain to ever be interested in me. I’m just saying if he was, I don’t think it would matter. Sometimes I feel like my divorce acted like a factory reset, and I’m having to learn how to love and trust all over again. The only exception to the very depressing condition of my heart is Juno. Loving her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Most of the time, I have no idea how to mother her or teach her or raise her into a capable human. But loving her—that’s like breathing.

But my logical brain checked out somewhere along I-85. Dreaming of this house, this cute little cottage where Juno and I can start over, has been a big motivator through all the stress and emotion of the past few months.

I realize Alec has said something and is waiting for me to respond. I scour my brain for the words I know I heard but clearly didn’t process, but I come up empty. “Sorry, what was that?” I ask. “I spaced there for a second.”

I’ve always been the guy who will move my date to the inside of the sidewalk or keep a steadying hand on her whenever we pass by strangers on the street. I open doors, open jar lids, carry heavy suitcases. But all of that just feels like being a nice guy who’s aware of his surroundings.

“Does it not bother you to have people bringing in instruments that are so poorly made? Why not tell them to return it and get something from a more reputable source?” She shrugs easily. “People do the best they can with the knowledge they have. And they often buy what they can afford. I’m happy to help because I’d rather they play something than nothing at all.”

His lip ticks up the slightest bit. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page, then.” Oh my gosh. Me. And Alec Sheridan. Megan’s freaking older brother Alec Sheridan. Are on. the same. page. And not just any page. A page torn out of an actual romance novel.

“Dinner on Friday and Halloween next week? You don’t think you’ll get sick of me?” He tosses me a flirty smile. “Not likely.” After I figure out how to breathe again, I spend the next twenty minutes talking about the repairs I’ve watched Victoria do and the restoration we’re starting this afternoon. Once I get going, I completely forget that Alec basically just admitted he caught the same feelings I did. That’s how much I’m enjoying this work. But Alec is also a really good listener. He keeps asking questions. Real questions. Questions that make it obvious he’s paying attention and not just humoring me.

Maybe fatherhood is just a matter of paying attention, of noticing what your family needs, then stepping up to take care of that need. It’s being present. Invested. Willing.

She’s happy to talk about herself if the subject comes up, but she’ll just as quickly shower compliments and ask questions. She isn’t bold like Summer or hilarious like Parker or intense like Gracie. Her confidence is quieter, her humor more understated.

But Evie isn’t holding back, her arms hooking around my neck, tugging me toward her like she can’t get close enough. I’m not the tallest of the Appies by any stretch, but I’m just shy of six foot three, and Evie’s a solid foot shorter. Plus, I’m in shoes, and she’s barefoot, so we’re both straining to make this work.

Theo stands and carries his empty bowl to the sink. He looks at me and grins. “That one got you, didn’t it?” I scowl. “What is that therapist teaching you?” “The true meaning of life, Captain. And I have you to thank for that.” He’s halfway across the living room on his way to the stairs when he turns and adds, “Spoiler alert. The answer isn’t hockey.”

Lucky for me, Evie also kisses me when I screw up. Turns out, I’m not always perfect at this whole relationship thing, no matter how hard I try. But Evie has had her own share of missteps too. Even though loving each other is mostly amazing, I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t punctuated with short bursts of intensity, of arguments and sadness, even disappointment. But those moments just serve as reminders to focus, to connect, to look at each other and remember that what we have with each other is worth it. And it is worth it.