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I think I just got whiplash. “Ah…thanks. I’ll do that.”
“Maybe I’ll send him my German coffee cake. Though I’m not sure how well it’ll go in the mail.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure that would work. How about some of your peanut butter cookies instead?” Because Evan will eat like one to be polite and then I’ll have the rest of the box to myself. Awesome.
“Good idea. Martha’s niece from next door will take them to the post office for me. She’s been wonderful, helping out with our groceries and everything.”
“I’m glad, Mom.” My heart hurts a little that I’m not the one there to help my parents get what they need during a time like this.
“She’s a fan or yours, did you know?”
“Really?” I grin. “I’ll have to send her some signed books. I really am grateful that she’s helping you and Dad stay indoors.”
“Yes. Well. Hopefully this silly stay-at-home nonsense will be over soon and we’ll get back to our regular lives. We’re old, Sadie. We don’t want to spend our last years stuck at home staring at each other bored stupid.”
“Do you want to spend your last days fighting for breath, dying alone in a hospital?” I ask in my best fake sweet voice. “A friend of Evan’s passed away just last night, Mom. This couldn’t get any more real.”
Silence from her. “I’m sorry he lost a friend. And I already told you we’re staying put. There’s no need to use that tone on me.”
“Okay, Mom. Thank you for being so reasonable.” I am mostly sincere. Mostly.
She huffs. “Your father says hello. He says he never believed what they were saying about Evan. Too much raw talent, apparently.”
Give me strength. “Right.”
“It’s wonderful that you’ve found a man who can look after you. Those football players earn quite a lot of money at his level.”
“We look after each other, Mom. And I’m not interested in his money.”
“Of course not, dear,” she says soothingly. “But a wealthy husband would certainly make life easier for you. No more worrying about rent in between payments from your books and so on. Of course, he’ll need to hire a housekeeper or cook for himself. That was never one of your strong points.”
“I can cook,” I grouse.
Dad’s laughter comes through clear and Mom has a smile in her voice. “No, you can’t, dear. Lord knows I tried to teach you, but you were always happier with your nose in a book.”
“I’ll have you two know I cooked dinner last night and hardly burnt it at all. Just a little around the edges. But Evan didn’t care. He ate it anyway. So there.”
“Good for you, sweetie. I don’t suppose you two have talked about the future yet?”
“Right now we’re just concentrating on clearing his name and getting through lockdown. It was nice to talk to you, but I have to go, Mom.”
“All right. We love you. Take care.”
“I love you both too. Bye.” I set down my cell and ever so subtly bang my head against the table.
“That was your folks, I take it?” Evan asks with a grin.
“They always believed in you and they’re very happy you’re rich.”
He laughs. “Excellent. Good to know they’re on our side now.”
“Are you sure you want to take on the crazy that is my life?” I offer him my most pitiful pout.
“Yep.”
“You didn’t even hesitate.”
“Nope.” He tips his chin at the laptop in front of me. “Getting any work done? This must be damn distracting for you.”
“It’s all fine and good. We deserve this win. You deserve it.” I smile. “And yeah, I’m working on the blurb. Reducing a story you’re in love with down to a couple of short punchy paragraphs sucks. However, it must be done. On the plus side, all of this exposure in the press has given my book sales a bump.”
“That’s fantastic. Nice to see a silver lining.”
“Yeah.”
He rises from the couch and starts doing a series of stretches. With everything going on, he hasn’t done his full regular workout today. And for a gym junkie like him, that’s got to be doing his head in. Not only being stuck indoors, but not being able to exert his usual amount of energy on sports, etc. He’s dealing with so much right now, but my gaze still glues to his ass when he touches his toes then drops into a series of squats. A good girlfriend would volunteer to sacrifice herself on the altar of his lust. Or my lust. Whatever. You can’t say sex isn’t a decent workout when done right. And boy does Evan know how to do it right.
“You’re ogling me,” he says.
“Sure am.”
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Would you mind if it was video because there’s a lot of muscle flexing going on here which would come in use later. When you’re like playing an away game and I’m on my own and lonesome.”
