Forever Summer - Melody Grace Page 0,54

be joking.

“Rule one, don’t eat her cooking,” Noah continued, looking deadly serious. “I guarantee you it’ll be undercooked or burned—or somehow both at once. Rule two, she’s sneaky. Watch out for the innocent questions,” he warned. “I swear, she was a police interrogator in a past life. She’ll have you confessing your darkest secrets in no time at all.”

“Anything else?” Evie asked, smiling. “Does she bite?”

“No, that’s the dog, Lucky,” Noah replied with a grin. “Just remember to scratch her between the ears, and she’ll love you forever.”

“Your mom or the dog?” Evie quipped. But as they got out and approached the front door, she saw the apprehension on Noah’s face. “It’ll be fine,” she reassured him, leaning up to give him a kiss. “And we don’t have to stay all evening,” she added. “We’ll have dinner, listen to a couple of hugely embarrassing stories about you, and then make our escape.”

“Promise?” Noah asked, pulling her closer. He kissed her again, deeper this time, and Evie felt a rush of delicious heat.

Oh.

She almost changed her mind right then and there to make a run for it. After all, they could be back at the inn in a heartbeat, alone.

Back in her bed.

Then the door swung open, and Gayle was standing there. Evie blushed, quickly detangling herself from Noah. “Hi,” she blurted, embarrassed. “We’re here!”

But Gayle didn’t seem concerned by the make-out. She clapped her hands together in delight. “Look at you lovebirds,” she cooed. “Come in, come in. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Evie stepped inside, but Gayle blocked Noah’s path. “Go fetch your father, he’s been in that barn all day.”

Noah gave Evie a worried look.

“I’ll be fine,” Evie reassured him, smiling.

“Of course she will,” Gayle said, shooing him out. “Evie and I can get to know each other, isn’t that right?” Once Noah left, she turned to Evie with a sigh and led her inside. “I should really install an intercom or some kind of buzzer. Jeff loses all track of time with his work!”

“That’s right,” Evie said, taking in the brightly colored clutter of coats and books and wildly patterned paintings. “Noah told me about the dollhouse furniture.”

“Of all the things …” Gayle gave an exaggerated shrug. “But it keeps him busy, at least. And leaves me to my hobbies in peace.”

Evie caught sight of a huge painting above the mantle. Gayle turned. “You like it? It’s one of mine,” she said proudly.

“It’s … very colorful,” Evie said, trying to make out what the shapes were. Wait, was that …?

“The male form is so inspiring,” Gayle beamed.

“Oh.” Evie blinked. It was.

“Creativity runs in the family,” she continued. “You’ve seen Mackenzie’s work? She’s a real talent. And Noah was artistic too, when he was younger.”

“He was?”

“Oh yes, he played the guitar—a terrible racket,” Gayle confided as they headed through to the kitchen. “But I have some old videos around here somewhere. We can watch after dinner! Now, come, sit. I want to know everything about how you two met. Have you been dating long? What are your plans here in Sweetbriar Cove?”

Evie had to smile. Noah was right, his mom was something like a hurricane. And she was directly in the path of the storm.

“It’s so nice he’s brought you to meet us,” Gayle continued, bustling around the counter. “He hasn’t brought a girl home since … well, since Caitlin,” she said, pressing her lips together in disapproval. “And we all know how that one worked out.”

Caitlin? It took Evie a moment to put it together. That must be the name of Noah’s ex, she realized. The one he’d been dating every woman on the Cape in order to forget.

Evie felt an itch of curiosity, but before she could ask anything, the kitchen door flew open. “I’m back!” Noah burst in, looking like he’d just sprinted there. “What did I miss?” he asked, looking between them anxiously.

“Relax,” his mother laughed. “I haven’t even brought out the baby photos yet. I was just finding out how you two met.”

“You know that. Debra asked me to help out with all the Beachcomber stuff,” Noah put in smoothly. “Is it time to eat yet? I’m starving.”

“Me too,” said an older man who followed Noah through the door. “I’m Jeff,” he said, reaching to shake Evie’s hand. “And you must be the sacrificial lamb on the menu tonight,” he added with a wink.

Evie laughed. “I hope not.” He had a distracted energy about him, and he was wearing a rumpled shirt and dusty pants, but