Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,52
on her fingers. “He cooked us breakfast. He has a key to your house. There are razor trimmings in your bathroom sink.” She flashed a triumphant smile. “Call it what you will, but from where I stand, you two are living together.”
Spots danced before Eve’s eyes, and the world faded in and out for a moment. Fortunately, Matt and her father appeared on the front doorstep then, saving her from the conversation.
Matt, dressed in a suit for a day at the office, picked up her parents’ suitcase and loped easily across the tiny front yard. He hoisted the suitcase into the car’s open trunk.
Her heart did a crazy little tap dance. There was no doubt about it. She wanted him. But she wasn’t sure to what extent. Her heart couldn’t be trusted. It had been fooled before.
“And you’ll be coming home with Eve for our anniversary party?” her father was saying to Matt as the two men shook hands good-bye.
Eve froze. She didn’t want Matt to meet the rest of her family. Hadn’t the Tinker Bell story suggested anything to him?
“Matt’s a busy man,” she interrupted. “He doesn’t have the time to waste on a three-hour drive. That’s three hours one way,” she added for Matt’s benefit.
“I think I can work it into my schedule.” His eyes gleamed, and he shot her a look that dared her to argue with him.
No, no, no.
“It’s not a formal party like you’re used to. More of a reunion. Most of the family is Acadian,” she tried next, desperate to find something—anything—to make him change his mind. “A lot of them don’t like speaking English.”
“You’d be surprised what kinds of parties I’ve been to. And I speak French,” Matt said.
Of course he did.
“My brothers will try and treat you like one of the family,” she warned. “Trust me. You don’t want that.”
Instead of being put off, Matt seemed fascinated. “I’ve always wanted brothers. You’ve got, what—three?”
That answer pleased her parents as much as it worried Eve.
“You wouldn’t want these ones,” she said. Not if he wanted to live a long, healthy life. “They’re kind of rough. You know, physical.”
“It’s an anniversary party, not mortal combat.” Matt folded his arms across his chest, full of blissful, ignorant confidence. Eve pitied him.
Very well. He didn’t know what he was setting himself up for, but he’d brought this on himself. He couldn’t say she hadn’t tried to warn him. At least one good thing would come from this. Once he’d met the whole family, a casual relationship was all he’d want to pursue with her.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Wonderful!” Her mother’s face was beaming as she kissed Eve’s cheek. “It will be nice to have you visit. Both of you. You can introduce Matt to the whole family. We’ll see you on the weekend.”
“Exactly how much family do you have?” Matt asked Eve.
Eve smiled. “You should have asked that question first.”
She waved as her parents backed their car out of the drive, a funny little feeling in her throat. Spending a few days with them hadn’t been as hard as she’d expected it to be, but it hadn’t been wonderful, either. They disappeared around a corner, leaving her alone on the lawn with Matt.
And an empty house.
What she’d proposed in the darkness of night now seemed so…sordid in the bright light of day. She was such an idiot sometimes. How could they keep things casual when they were living together? How romantic could she be? How romantic did she want to be?
She plopped onto the steps, dropping her elbows to her knees and her head to her hands, suddenly unable to face the thought of entering that empty house with a man who made her forget everything but the way she felt. And the way she felt right now scared her. All she had to do was look at him in his custom-made suit, to smell his aftershave, to melt beneath those intense blue eyes, and she knew they weren’t right for each other. When they were alone and he was kissing her…touching her…she could forget everything and everyone else. But when she tried to envision the two of them together, the way other people must see them…
What a contrast they must make. Eve’s idea of dressing up for the office when there were no meetings scheduled meant she’d put on a stain-free blouse to go with her jeans and a pair of sandals instead of work boots. She studied her toes. She’d painted her nails Moroccan Plum.