Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,67

dolls home with me?” she asked.

“Do you really want them?” Her mother seemed genuinely pleased. Even after all these years, those dolls still meant something to her. Eve was ashamed she’d only asked for them now because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes, I really want them.” She’d build shelves in the spare room for them. That way, those glassy, lifeless eyes could stare at Matt first thing in the morning. Assuming, of course, Matt still planned on sleeping in the spare room.

Things had gotten very complicated between them. Eve preferred straightforward and simple. She hated this guessing, but she hated having to ask even more.

“I’ll get a box for them,” her mother said.

Therese hurried out of the room as if afraid Eve might suddenly change her mind, rushing past Matt, who was standing in the hall. The look he gave Eve was warm and approving, and she was suddenly embarrassed to be caught in another sentimental moment.

“Just for that, I’m not going to say anything about the car keys,” he told her.

“Thank you.”

She wanted to wrap her arms around his big, reassuring body, but was uncertain of her right to do so. They’d agreed on casual. She’d done her part to romance him, just as he’d wanted. She had no idea what their boundaries now were.

They packed the dolls in the box her mother provided, then Matt carried them to the car.

“I hope you’ll be with Eve the next time she comes home,” her mother told him as they said their good-byes.

“He might be back in Toronto by then,” Eve said to her mother, mainly to see what Matt’s reaction would be.

He tucked the box of dolls into the back seat and closed the door. “I’ll just have to make sure we visit again before then.”

Eve got behind the wheel. Matt seemed preoccupied, and that made her nervous, so she babbled a bit about her work and some of the restoration projects she’d worked on as they drove.

“Historic reconstruction and restoration is a specialty of yours, isn’t it?” Matt asked. “I hear there’s an art gallery restoration project slated to go ahead for next year. Are you planning to bid on it?”

“I’d like to,” Eve said. “But most of that work is done by invitation to tender, and I’ve never passed their initial screening criteria.”

After that, he spoke very little. Instead, he spent most of the drive on his cell phone, talking to Toronto. It was business, and he apologized several times, but consequently, neither one of them was in an especially good mood by the time they reached Halifax that evening.

The city’s lights glittered on the black waters of the harbor as they crossed the MacKay Bridge and headed for home. Matt carried their bags and the dolls upstairs, and Eve went outside to drag her compost container to the curb for pickup in the morning.

The neighborhood was quiet.

Then a man stepped into the pale glow from the streetlight at the end of her driveway.

“Hey, Eve,” Claude said.

Chapter Thirteen

Matt heard a noise that sounded like a bin overturning and looked out the bedroom window to see what was going on.

Then he heard her shouting his name.

She came from the side of the house, on the driveway, and walked toward the street. Her attention was fastened on a tall man standing under the streetlight on the sidewalk. He wore high-top sneakers, knee-length denim cut-offs, and an orange polo shirt. His hairline started a little farther north of his ears, and the wide smile had been replaced with sulky belligerence, but Matt recognized his face from the newspaper clipping.

Son of a—

He had been entertained when Eve told him how she’d broken her ex-husband’s nose and blackened both eyes, but he’d heard about it after the fact, when it was too late to worry and everything had worked out. Now, presented with the very real probability that she’d try it again before he could get there—only this time Claude would be prepared for it—Matt discovered his reaction was different. It bordered on panic. He raced down the stairs and out the front door just in time to see Claude give her a shove.

And Matt saw red.

Yet, as it turned out, she didn’t need his protection. In typical Eve style, she didn’t waste time on words. She hauled back her arm and swung a punch at her ex-husband, as hard as she could. Claude, however, had indeed been prepared. He turned his head to the side so that the blow