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I choked on a laugh and Eva shook her head. “It’s true. Whenever Daddy screwed up, he’d make a big meal, sometimes seven courses, to make it up to her.”
Ah, that explained her fixation on love and romance. Her parents had lived out the ultimate happy ending—no wonder she believed in it so faithfully. “Smart man.”
“He learned the hard way that charm can’t solve everything,” Mira said with a laugh and then clapped her hands. “Lunch is almost ready, Eva, go wash up.”
“I just came to bring you food, Mama, I can’t stay.”
“Husbands to shackle?”
She glared and flipped me off.
“Eva,” her mother admonished. “That’s not nice.”
“I’m not nice, Mama.”
I laughed. “Finally, something we agree on.” Our gazes locked for a long, tense moment. I couldn’t quite tell if it was purely sexual tension or if something else was mixed in with it, but there was definitely attraction. I blame the fitted black dress that hugged her curves, exaggerated them to perfection. “You look lovely today, Eva.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Thanks. Your compliments are improving.”
Yep, definitely attraction. “Thanks, I have a good teacher. I’ll go grab those groceries so you ladies can talk about me behind my back.” I hurried out but slowed when I heard Mira’s words.
“Such a nice boy. Handsome, too. You could do a lot worse Eva.”
I knew I liked that woman for a reason.
Eva snorted. “I’m sure he’d be the best one-night stand I ever had, Mama.” Damn right, I thought, even though she hadn’t meant it to be a compliment.
“If that’s all it is, what’s wrong with that? Maybe you need to get your cookies fixed, as the kids say. Besides, who says one night can’t turn into forever?” Despite that last part, I knew I had an ally in Mira, so I made my way to Eva’s trunk for the groceries.
I returned just in time to hear Eva groan as Mira issued her orders. “He’s staying, and so are you. Everybody’s eating with a smile, so go wash up.”
“Whatever.”
I smiled to myself; it was nice to see the always-put-together Eva Vargas off her game. “Smells good in here.”
“Another recipe for your repertoire, no doubt?”
“Hey, a guy’s gotta eat and pasta is my weakness.”
A few minutes later, the table was filled with spaghetti puttanesca, a whole roasted trout, and salad. And loads of silence. Tense, uncomfortable silence, because Eva didn’t want me here.
“So, Oliver, what are you working on this week?”
Bless this woman. “The show this week will be about how to have the conversation about sexual boundaries. What you’re willing to try and what’s off the table. Safe words. That kind of stuff.”
Eva sucked in a breath but Mira leaned forward, interest thoroughly piqued. “People have this conversation?”
I nodded, amused by Eva’s increasing mortification. “Oh, yeah. You don’t want someone putting a finger or a tongue someplace that doesn’t rev your engine. It’s better to get it all in the open up front so when the clothes come off, you can just have fun. Go with the flow. Do what feels good.”
“What feels good,” Mira repeated as if she were learning a new phrase. “I like it.”
“Mama,” Eva groaned. “Please.”
“You just said it was time for me to get out there and start dating again, or was that my other daughter?”
Eva finished chewing but her glare let her mother know she did not want to have this conversation in front of me. The intruder. “Yes, but I meant a few dates over dinner, maybe a show. Not safe words and whips!”
“In fairness,” I added just to rile her up, “no one said anything about whips. Or chains.”
Her glare somehow intensified. It was so powerful that if she could have, that look would’ve stopped my heart. “You’re not helping.”
I shrugged and shoved a flaky piece of fish in my mouth. With my hands. “Isn’t open communication the basis of any relationship?”
Mirabelle let out a loud, cackling laugh. “He’s got you there, Eva.”
“Listen to your mama, Eva, she’s one smart cookie.” I winked, and the growl that came from deep in her gut was more than worth the dark glare that she aimed at me.
“Lunch is over and I need to clean up, Oliver, thanks for helping my mama.”
“I’ll help,” I told her and stood, grabbing the empty dishes.
“No need,” she said quickly, grabbing a few dishes and bumping me aside as she flipped on the faucet.
“I insist.” The sink filled with water and I grabbed the dish soap and added a few squirts. “Unless you can’t handle being so close to me.”
Mirabelle laughed and Eva groaned. “Whatever.”
Another victory for bachelors everywhere. “You don’t have to hate me every second of every day, you know.”
“I don’t hate you at all,” she said haughtily. “But I’d like you more if you weren’t out to ruin me.”
“Yeah? Maybe I’d like you more if you didn’t encourage people to completely change who they are so they can live someone else’s dream.”
