The Idea of You Page 8

  “Sure. The placemats are stacked over there—just distribute them along with some napkins. I’ll get the silverware.” She turned toward the kitchen.

  Alaina went around the table to where Evan was standing with his wineglass. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  She set her wineglass down and spread the placemats around at each place. “How come you’re standing over here by yourself?” she asked.

  “I’m a little, uh, overstimmed—overstimulated—tonight.” He didn’t look anywhere near her, and his tone had that flat, almost monotone quality that he used from time to time. She was used to his lack of eye contact and the vocal intonations and understood both. She’d read up on Asperger’s and knew that eye contact was difficult, almost painful even, for him. She’d also learned about social interaction and difficulties related to that, including vocal modulation. She’d concluded that he appeared to adapt pretty well. He seemed quirky, but she liked that about him. He was unlike anyone she’d ever known.

  She wanted to understand what made him tick. “What does that mean exactly? Is it because of what happened this afternoon?”

  “Probably. You . . . unnerve me.”

  She instinctively touched her mouth, thinking of their kiss. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It isn’t bad. I don’t know what it is yet.”

  Sara came to the table with the silverware. “You want to do spoons and knives or forks?”

  “Whichever.” She held out her hand, and Sara gave her spoons and knives.

  Alaina helped her finish with the table just as the food started arriving. She stared at the gorgeously arrayed plates featuring pork loin with a sauce, some greens, and what looked like polenta. “You plated the food?”

  “He can’t not plate the food,” Tori said.

  “Who here doesn’t like fancy-looking food?” Kyle asked loudly.

  “I don’t really care,” Evan answered.

  “You’re the only one, bro.” Kyle set down the last two plates. “Let’s eat!”

  Sean, Tori, Derek, and Chloe all brought wine bottles and set them at intervals along the table.

  Alaina leaned close to Evan. “Where do I sit?”

  “You can sit by me,” he said, taking a chair that faced the kitchen instead of the windows. Rob and Emily took the chairs at either end, and five chairs were crammed on each of the sides.

  “If Hayden and Liam come home, let alone have significant others, we won’t all fit here,” Emily said.

  Rob smiled at her. “Maybe we just need a larger table.”

  “Shall we toast to our illustrious guest?” Kyle asked, lifting his glass.

  Alaina scoffed. “I’m not remotely illustrious.”

  “Let’s see, Golden Globe and Oscar winner. One of the highest-paid actresses in the world. I guess you’re right. Total slacker. Never mind.” Kyle winked at her. “To Alaina What’s-her-name, the biggest loser to ever grace our table.”

  Everybody raised their glasses and clinked them against their neighbors’. Alaina laughed as she tapped her glass to Evan’s and then Sara’s.

  “Kyle’s obnoxious,” she said to Alaina.

  “I can see that.” She could also see why he’d been the star of their reality show when they were kids and why Sean had wanted to profile him. He was naturally charismatic with crazy good looks to go along with it.

  She slid a sideways glance at Evan, who’d started eating. Had it been difficult growing up with someone who was such a master at things that came so hard to him? Or had Kyle and his other siblings helped Evan out and given him the confidence and inspiration to be who he was today? She’d never missed the idea of having siblings more than she did right now. It gave her something to think about as she planned the next stage of her life and started her own family.

  “Don’t worry, Evan, I made your plate special—no spinach, just Swiss chard and escarole.”

  Alaina paused in eating and turned her head to look at Evan. “You don’t like spinach?” she asked quietly.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Yet you ate it the other night.”

  He glanced at her. “I didn’t want to be rude.”

  He really was a gentleman. She nudged his thigh with the back of her hand and had to swallow a gasp. Damn, she had it bad. She sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me what you don’t like in the future. And tell me what you do.” She realized, belatedly, that he could take that a variety of ways. Nevertheless, she didn’t clarify. Let him take it however he wanted.

  Unfortunately he didn’t look her way again, so she couldn’t detect a thing about what might be going on in his head. He seemed tense, his body more rigid than normal. Was that her fault? Had she strung him up tight with their kissing earlier?

  “Kyle, this is delicious, as usual,” Emily said. Alaina forced herself to pay attention to something other than her attraction to Evan.

  “Maggie made the polenta, so it was a joint effort.” Kyle smiled at his girlfriend, who sat across from him, next to Emily.

  “I had a great teacher,” Maggie said, picking up her wineglass and giving him a little toast.

  Conversation sprung up around the table. Alaina was in the center on her side, and Chloe was directly across from her.

  “How long will you be here?” Chloe asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Alaina glanced around the table. Sean had assured her that everyone would keep her presence secret. Some of these people—maybe all of them—would have read the stories circulating about her. But she didn’t think anyone would bring them up. They didn’t seem like people who would care about that sort of thing. Plus, they’d endured their own fame, albeit at a different level, and, as Evan had demonstrated, they likely understood the negatives that came along with it.

  “You should come to The Arch and Vine,” Chloe said.

  “I don’t know that I want to go into town,” she said somewhat sheepishly. She hated sounding pretentious.

  “We could sit you in a booth at the back of the restaurant. It’s a narrow area—we use it for large groups because you can kind of contain people in the space. We could put up a screen so no one would see you.”

  “I’ll think about it.” She was curious to see the pub, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk going out. Furthermore, she still wanted to see the historic homestead Evan had mentioned.

  She turned to look at him. He was mostly quiet, but she’d heard him talking to Tori a little bit—she was on his other side. “Can you take me to the homestead tomorrow?”

  He glanced at her, and the gray of his eyes seemed sharper, more crystalline. Or maybe she was just being a fanciful romantic. Crystal would say that was definitely the case. “Sure, if you want. I can come by around one if that works.”

  She thrilled to the idea of spending the day with him again. Or at least part of it. “I have absolutely no schedule.”

  By the end of dinner, Alaina was sharing behind-the-scenes stories from her latest films. It helped to keep her mind off the too-attractive man sitting beside her. The entire table listened and seemed completely engaged. Everyone but Evan. But she knew that just because he didn’t look engaged didn’t mean he wasn’t.

  “Your parents must be so proud. Where do they live?” Emily asked.

  “It’s just my mom. She lives in Dallas.” Alaina gave a tight smile before taking a drink of wine. “Nice and far away.”

  Emily’s forehead creased. “You aren’t close?”

  “No. We both prefer it that way.”

  “Thanks for a great dinner, Kyle,” Rob interjected, perhaps to redirect the conversation before it could slam into the trainwreck that was Alaina’s mother.

  Chloe stood and started collecting dishes. Tori and Sara did the same.

  “Should we do something?” Derek asked.

  “Like introduce Alaina to your cut-throat games of pool?” Sean asked. He leaned around Tori, who was picking up plates, and looked at Alaina. “Make sure you talk to me before y
ou choose a cue.”

  She had no idea what that meant but nodded. “Okay.”

  Alaina hadn’t played pool in a long time. It sounded kind of fun, but she was focused on Evan. And dessert.

  It was like an invisible cord was strung between them, linking them together, and it pulsed with excitement and energy. Did he feel that way, too, or was she completely fooling herself?

  “I was kind of hoping for movie night,” Sara said. “Alaina’s stories put me in the mood.”

  “I can’t believe you’re turning down an opportunity to school everyone at pool.” Dylan stared at her. “Are you my fiancée?” This was met with laughter from around the table. Even Evan cracked a smile.

  Alaina leaned closer to Evan. “I take it Sara’s good at pool?”

  He turned his head, bringing their mouths close enough that she could probably kiss him. So tempting. “The best.”

  She couldn’t help staring at his lips or imagining them tangled with hers, his tongue invading her mouth. She thought of the theater downstairs. If they sat in the back in the dark . . .

  Evan abruptly stood and took his and Alaina’s plates to the kitchen. Alaina got up and poured more wine into her and Evan’s glasses. “More wine anyone?” she asked.

  Just about everyone answered in the affirmative, and Alaina ended up using multiple bottles to refill all the glasses.

  Chloe picked up her wine. “What movie should we watch?”

  “I suppose it would be weird if we watched one of Alaina’s,” Maggie said, coming back to the table.

  “It’s fine with me,” Alaina said, though she secretly hoped they wouldn’t. Watching herself made her uncomfortable. In fact, she hadn’t even seen a handful of her performances and likely never would.

  A phone rang on the counter.

  “Whose is that?” Rob asked.

  Kyle reached across the granite and picked it up. “Mom’s. It’s Liam.”

  “Go ahead and answer it,” she said.

  Kyle slid his finger across the screen. “Hey, douchenozzle. You missed another fine family feast.” His smile faded, and he handed the phone to his mother. “He wants to talk to you. He sounds serious.”

  “Doesn’t he usually sound serious?” Derek asked.

  Emily took the phone and retreated into a small office off the kitchen.

  Alaina turned to Evan, who’d come back to her side of the table. “What’s going on with Liam?”

  He shrugged. “No idea.”

  “So, what about the movie?” Maggie asked. “Action-adventure? Rom-com? Sci-fi?”

  Alaina knew what Evan would pick. “I love sci-fi. That was my first love. And fantasy.”

  “Really?” Evan’s gaze lingered on hers a second longer than usual.

  “I told you I loved Lord of the Rings. And Aliens is one of my absolute favorite movies. Ripley is maybe the greatest action heroine ever written.”

  “Classic,” Sean said, joining them. “Maybe we should think about a reboot for you.” He said this with a smile, but she sensed he was only half-kidding.

  “That’s total sacrilege. And anyway, I don’t think I could do it. They approached me about the prequel a few years back, and I just couldn’t say yes. I was afraid I would mess it up. I feel simultaneously bad and excited for all the young actors doing the next Star Wars movie. Amazing opportunity, terrifying responsibility.”

  Emily came back into the kitchen, and the conversation died down. “Is everything all right?” Sara asked, moving toward her.

  Emily looked pale—it seemed as though things were not all right. “Liam was in an accident. He’ll be fine, but he dislocated his shoulder and has a hairline fracture in his wrist.”

  Rob joined her and immediately stroked her back. “How the hell did he do that?”

  Emily looked up at her husband, worry etched in her face. “Heli-skiing.”

  Kyle dropped a towel on the counter, his brows pitched low over his eyes in either concern or irritation, maybe both. “He’s going to kill himself one of these days.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if that’s the point,” Tori murmured. She’d moved next to Sean and slid her arm around his waist.

  Liam had a death wish? Alaina shook her head. This family could star in their own movie. But then, she guessed they had with the reality show.

  “I think I’ll skip the movie.” Emily turned, her brow creased with concern, to Sara. “Will you and the others take care of the kitchen?”

  “Already on it, Mom,” Kyle said. Derek was assisting him with loading the dishwashers.

  Rob and Emily disappeared from the kitchen, their heads bent together and their hands clasped. It was an incredibly sweet image, and it tied a knot in Alaina’s chest.

  “I think I’ll skip the movie, too,” Evan said. His baritone thrummed through Alaina.

  She turned to face him, effectively blocking Sean and Tori from their conversation. “What? Why?”

  He didn’t look at her—surprise, surprise. “I just remembered I have something to do.”

  Disappointment sliced through the pleasant haze of desire she’d been floating in all evening. “What about dessert?”

  He shrugged, appearing absolutely unfazed. “I don’t think there is dessert.”

  She blinked at him. “We talked about dessert earlier.” Was this a cue he wasn’t picking up on? Had he not understood the coded flirting that afternoon? “You know . . . dessert?”

  Comprehension dawned in his eyes. “Right, dessert. Um, tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow. She’d been looking forward to . . . what? Sex? Yeah, she’d thought they were going to have sex. And he’d been . . . Hell, she didn’t know what he’d been looking forward to. Nothing, apparently.

  “Sure,” she said coolly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded, then said good night to everyone else and left the kitchen.

  “Well, I’m still up for a movie, if you are,” Tori said.

  “Why not?” Her evening had moved into unsalvageable territory, so why not catch a flick, enjoy some good company, and get drunk? She grabbed her glass and one of the still-full bottles from yesterday. “I’ve got the wine.”

  Tori grinned at her. “Then let’s go.”

  As Alaina made her way downstairs to the theater, a niggling voice at the back of her mind told her to be patient with Evan, that he was worth waiting for.

  Just a bit louder, however, came the admonition that she’d maybe just dodged a bullet. Her life was headed in a direction that was bound to become even more complicated, and adding Evan into the mix would be a mistake.

  Chapter Seven

  EVAN YAWNED AS he walked up the stairs to the garage apartment at about ten to one the next day. He’d stayed up far too late working on Alex’s book. Liam’s accident had given him a jolt of an idea for the story, prompting him to go upstairs to work on it into the early morning hours. He’d slept a little late but had still squeezed his workout in. It was the one part of his routine he simply couldn’t compromise.

  But it was okay, as he was still early to pick up Alaina. He knocked on her door and waited. And waited.

  He knocked again. Still nothing. Impatience growing, he knocked a third time. Silence.

  He pulled his phone from his back pocket and pulled up her number. He’d done as she’d suggested and gotten her cell from Sean. He typed in a message: Where are you? I’m standing outside the door.

  He leaned against the wall on the small landing while he waited for her to come to the door. Still nothing. He pounded on the wood. His phone vibrated.

  I decided it was a nice day for a walk. Your dad gave me the key and directions to the homestead.

  Shit.

  If she went exploring around there and looked too closely at the cabin . . .

  He jogged down the stairs and out the door, then around the garage to the path that would take him through the woods, over a small rise, and eventually to the homestead. Thankfully it was a nice day—cool, but sunny.

>   Less than ten minutes later, he arrived at the 130-year-old house and went to the door. It was locked. Where had she gone? If she’d returned to the apartment, he should’ve passed her on the path.

  He circled the farmhouse but didn’t see any sign of her. Apprehensively, he made his way toward the cabin. He went through the copse of trees and down the hill to the creek. As he neared the small structure, his fears were confirmed. There, standing outside the front door, was Alaina.

  Irritation propelled him to move more quickly. “What are you doing?” he called out.

  She turned and shaded her eyes against the sun. “Just looking around. Does someone live here?”

  He stopped a few feet from her. “No. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “Why not? Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, this is private property.”

  She dropped her hand from her forehead. “I didn’t realize.”

  He had to get her away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “What’s the big deal? Hey, did I piss you off or something last night?”

  “What?” He glanced at her, blinked, and averted his gaze. She looked a little irritated. “No, you didn’t piss me off.”

  “Are you sure? Because you’re being kind of a jerk, and you were a total jerk last night.”

  Evan tried to think of what he’d done. “I don’t understand.”

  “I thought we had plans. You know, the dessert thing. Next thing I know, you’re cutting the night short without so much as an apology.”

  “We didn’t have specific plans.” He’d remember that. He remembered flirting with her at the underground pub after they’d kissed. Had she taken that as a solid . . . date? “I told you I suck at social situations. I didn’t understand.”

  “Listen, if you aren’t interested in me, that’s fine. I’m cool with just being friends. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t lead me on.”

  Lead her on? “I didn’t mean to. We kissed. I thought you liked it. I liked it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I liked it. It’s why I was looking forward to last night and was disappointed that it didn’t happen.”

  He felt bad about that. He didn’t like upsetting people, especially since he could almost never tell when he had. “I’m sorry you were disappointed.”