Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,47

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He dipped his head and gave her a gentle kiss this time, instead of the hot, soul-searing one his eyes promised. “While I’m gone, please try to be careful. If you need me, just call. And if you can’t reach me, then call my uncle. I know you don’t like him a whole lot, but he’ll look out for you for me.” His eyes softened. “I’d really hate to have anything happen to you.”

Eve’s heart dissolved into a little puddle on the floor.

Something was happening to her already, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to identify it. Identifying it would mean having to think about the future.

And Eve wasn’t ready for that.

…

The next morning, Eve took her parents to a party rental agency so they could book tables, chairs, outdoor lighting, and a tent. After that, they went to lunch at a small restaurant in a nearby mall. The waitress handed them menus, told them the specials, then wrote her name on a sheet of brown paper with a crayon.

Eve wondered when they would bring up the subject of Matt. She knew it was coming, and she’d bet odds of ten-to-one that her mother would start the proceedings.

They placed their orders and talked about the weather until their food arrived. One of her cousins had joined the army. A great-uncle in Ontario she’d never met had passed away.

Her father spread butter on a roll.

“About your houseguest…” Her mother’s words trailed off, letting Eve know what she thought of the houseguest in question.

There it was. She loved her mother, but while they might share genes, in terms of personality they were poles apart—and Eve always felt hers came up short. She wasn’t traditional enough for her dainty, Acadian French mother.

She plunged her fork into her salad. “What about him?”

Her mother fingered her napkin. “He seems to have a fondness for women.”

“He can be as fond of them as he likes.” Eve shrugged, feeling a tiny pang. “We’re colleagues.” Another pang. “He’s renting a room from me while we work on a project. When the project ends, he’ll head back to Toronto.” And since she doubted if Halifax would ever need another Matt Brison building, it was unlikely their paths would cross again. Pang, pang, pang.

Her mother didn’t appear convinced. “You have a history of getting involved with men, then changing your mind. And I’m concerned about the choices you make.”

Whenever her mother was displeased with her, she alluded to Eve’s ill-fated marriage.

“For the thousandth time”—Eve blew out a breath of frustration—“Claude wanted to head off to an island in the South Pacific and study the life-cycle of some rare breed of shellfish. I didn’t want to live on an island without indoor plumbing or a doctor. We had different goals. I realized it too late.”

“Claude was a nice man.”

If her mother only knew. She dragged a home-cut french fry through a puddle of ketchup. “Trust me, Matt’s a much nicer man.”

Her mother’s eyebrows rose a notch, and she looked down her nose at Eve, no mean feat for a tiny little woman. “I thought you were colleagues?”

“He’s a nice colleague.” Of course, he’d said he intended to prove to her he wasn’t nice, and that he wanted to get her naked. Eve fidgeted in her seat. Her mother made her feel like a little girl. Matt made her feel like a woman. And Eve wasn’t ready for any of this. “Do you have a point you’re trying to make?” she asked.

Her mother folded her napkin and laid it beside her plate. “We’d love to see you settle down, but with the right man this time. We’re concerned you’re about to make another bad choice.”

Eve wasn’t about to make a bad choice, because she wasn’t going to make a choice at all. She and Matt weren’t involved in any permanent sense. Theirs would be a short-term arrangement, if anything. They both knew that. Eve took a sip of water. There wouldn’t be any long-term commitment for her parents, or anyone else, to worry about.

“I’m almost thirty years old. I can make whatever choices I want,” she said. “Besides, I won’t be ‘settling down’ with Matt. Our relationship is a working one.” How much plainer could she make it?

Eve’s father spoke up. “I didn’t like him.”

Indignation on Matt’s behalf pricked Eve. How could her father make such a snap decision? What wasn’t to like?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, thumping her glass on the table. “Matt’s a wonderful person.” She