Wishing for the Girl Next Door (Piney Brook Wishes Book 3)

13. Karlee

I hear Evan rustling around in the main room and shove my head under my pillow. Only my sister would opt for a late morning wedding. Squinting, I grab my phone and check the time. Of course it’s time to get up.

I push myself to a sitting position and stretch my hands over my head. Thankfully, last night wasn’t terrible. Fingers crossed today goes well, too.

Gathering my clothes, I knock on the door between the bedroom and living room. “Are you decent?”

Evan chuckles. “Yep. Come on out, sunshine.”

I push the door open and grumble. “Why do you always call me that?”

He raises one eyebrow. “Because you’re so cheerful in the morning?”

I roll my eyes. “Clearly. Is it okay if I take the bathroom to get ready?”

Evan doesn’t move from his seat at the tiny table. “Of course. I’m just drinking my coffee and checking the news.” He holds up his phone.

“There’s a TV right there,” I say, pointing at the flat screen perched on the shelves.

He doesn’t respond, just takes a sip of his coffee, and waves his phone at me again. Whatever.

Walking into the bathroom, I flip on the light and sigh at my reflection. It’s going to take a bit of makeup magic and a lot of concealer to get through this day.

Thirty minutes later, I give up. I pull my hair into a braid that curves artfully around my head and down over my shoulder. It will have to do.

“You almost done in there?” Evan calls. “I need to get dressed so I don’t make us late.”

Taking one last look in the mirror, I smooth down the wine-colored satin dress I bought for the occasion and step out into the main room.

“Wow,” Evan says, his eyes wide as saucers. “You look amazing.” Twin spots of pink dot his cheeks, and he lets out a long breath.

“Thanks,” I say, turning so he can see the full effect.

“You’re going to outshine the bride.” He grins. “It’s a good thing you have a date. Otherwise, you’d never keep the guys away.”

I blush.

Evan winks and grabs his clothes, disappearing into the bathroom.

When he comes back out, I almost choke on the water I’m drinking. “Speaking of looking amazing,” I say, attempting to get myself together.

Evan looks down at his navy suit. “Thanks. When you said you were wearing a wine-colored dress, I called my mom to find out what I should wear.” He rubs his hands down the front of the suit jacket. “This is okay?”

“It’s perfect. You look very nice.” Understatement of the year there, Karlee.

“We better go,” Evan says, sliding on his dress shoes and putting his wallet in his jacket pocket.

I grab the clutch I brought and make sure I have a room key and my lipstick inside. “I’m ready,” I say, taking a deep breath and snapping the bag closed.

We step into the hallway, and Evan slips his hand in mine. I look at him and he leans close.

“Humor me?” he whispers.

I raise an eyebrow, but nod. We arrive at the venue a bit early, allowing us plenty of time to get seated. The converted farm where the wedding is being held is stunning. Green fields as far as the eye can see. In front of a rustic-looking barn, rows of chairs are set out along both sides of an aisle runner. As we make our way to our seats at the front of the bridal side, a soft whinny catches my attention.

“Look,” Evan says, pointing across the parking area to another field. “Horses.”

I watch them for a moment before Evan takes my hand and guides me to our seats. A few moments later, the groom and his best man take their places in front of the arbor decorated with large sunflowers. Soft music plays from speakers discreetly placed around the ceremony area.

The maid of honor makes her way down the aisle. The flower girl follows closely behind her, guarding her flowers from the ring bearer, who is trying to get her to toss them out. She stops and stamps her foot. “These are mine,” she says sharply, earning a laugh from everyone who can hear her.

Finally, the music changes, and my grandfather and Keeley come into sight. My breath catches as I take in my little sister. She radiates joy. The perfect bride.

“Still not as beautiful as you,” Evan says, leaning close to my ear and whispering. His breath tickles my neck and I reach for his hand and lace our fingers together, too caught up in the moment to question it.

The ceremony is beautiful, and when the officiant announces Scott and Keeley as husband and wife, the guests erupt in applause. They share a small kiss before turning and walking down the aisle to where the photographer is already waiting to take pictures.

“Come on, you two,” my mom says, motioning us to follow her to where the bride and groom are being posed this way and that.

“I don’t think we should interrupt.” Mom has a tendency to take over during times like these.

“Don’t be silly. Keeley wanted family shots as well.” She grabs my hand and starts pulling me to the group, now mingling around the photographer, awaiting orders. Halfway there, she turns around and calls to Evan. “You too. Come on.”

He hesitates, looking at me for guidance.

“Mom, we’re not even dating. I’m sure Keeley doesn’t want my friend in her photos.” I don’t want to make this any more awkward for Evan than it must already be.

“Nonsense, Karlee,” Keeley calls. “Of course I want him in the photos. If he was special enough for you to bring to my wedding, he may as well be family.”

I can feel myself turning the same deep red as my dress. “What if he’s camera shy?” I ask, trying one last ditch effort to save her the expense of having him removed digitally later.

Evan wraps his arm around my waist, startling me. “It’s fine. Whatever the bride wants, the bride gets. Right, Sunshine? Besides, it’s not like I plan on going anywhere.” He winks, and my mom grins.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and wait until everyone else is distracted. “What was that?” I hiss quietly.

“It’s not worth causing a scene and upsetting the bride, right?” He leans close as though he is placing a kiss on my cheek and whispers. “Besides, I didn’t think your mom was going to take no for an answer.”

Several photos later, we are finally done and making our way inside the barn where the reception is being held. A sweethearts’ table is at the front of the room, but the rest is open seating. We find two chairs at a table off the side of the small dance floor and sit.

“Thank you, again.” I take a sip of the water already placed at each seat.

“Please, stop thanking me,” Evan says, rubbing my back softly. “I’m enjoying myself.”

Other couples join us at the table, making small talk and introducing themselves to one another. I do my best to be polite, but small talk isn’t my favorite.

After the bride and groom share their first dance, the buffet lines open. Evan takes my hand when our table number is called and guides me to the line.

“This is quite the spread,” Evan remarks, taking a plate and adding skewers of grilled shrimp.

“I think Mom said they were hoping to have a little something for everyone. Keeley didn’t want to do a sit-down lunch—too formal for a daytime wedding.”

Evan nods. “Why did they choose to get married earlier in the day?”

I shrug. “Flight times. They have to be at the airport early this evening. Scott is taking her to Ireland, where he was born, for their honeymoon.”

After lunch, the dance floor opens for couples. I watch as my grandparents dance together, just as in love today as they were when they married fifty-five years ago. Grandpa dips Grandma, and she giggles. It brings a smile to my lips. That’s the kind of love I want.

Evan stands and holds his hand in my direction. “Dance with me?”

He frowns when I don’t immediately take his hand. “Oh, she doesn’t dance,” someone calls from across the table.

Evan raises a brow in challenge. “She’s danced with me before,” he says, reminding me of that night at the Curly Pig.

I stand and take his hand. “I’d love to.”

Evan guides me to the dance floor and places his hands at the small of my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” he says, chuckling softly.

I glance at my sister dancing with her new husband, and smile. “I think they are having a good time.”

Evan turns us so he can see them, too. “I agree.” He spins me before pulling me close again. “Though they’re not the only ones.” His eyes on mine leave no room to wonder who he’s talking about.

“I am having a nice time,” I say, leaning into his touch.

Evan pulls me just a little closer, and when the song ends, I’m not quite ready to leave the dance floor. The Dj announces it’s time to cut the cake, though, so we head back to our seats.

Evan places his hand on the back of my chair. I lean into Evan’s side and place my head on his shoulder. I wonder what it would be like to be loved by him.

“Karlee, are you almost ready? Checkout is in twenty minutes.”

“Almost,” I call, stuffing the last few items in my suitcase. After the wedding yesterday, my mother insisted we all go back to her house for dinner. Thankfully, it ended up just being my mom, my grandparents, and Evan and me. Everyone was exhausted from the wedding events, so it wasn’t odd when Evan and I left just after we ate. I love my family, but weddings seem to invite people to ask too many personal questions.

Evan is waiting patiently at the small table, his suitcase already by the door, when I come into the main room.

“I’m ready.”

“Do you want to stop by your mom’s on the way out?”

Mom had mentioned grabbing lunch today, but I told her I had to get back for work. She doesn’t have to know I have tonight off. This weekend has been a lot, and I would rather have the time to decompress.

“No. Thanks, though. I told her I was working tonight.”

Evan laughs. “Well, that’s one way to get out of another meal with the family.”

Taking both suitcases, he wheels them down to the front desk and checks us out.

“Did you get a receipt?” I ask, knowing they’d charge my card already on file.

“No, I forgot,” he says, guiding me into the parking lot.

“I should go back in and get one.” I turn to walk back inside, and he catches my arm.

“Karlee, I got it. It’s no big deal.”

My mouth drops open. “No, no way. You came here for me. The least I can do is pay for the room.”

“It’s already done. Please, let me pay?” He puts the suitcases in the bed of the truck and opens my door. “Now let’s get you home so you’re not late to work.” He winks.

“You’re terrible,” I say, climbing inside the truck.

“Ah, but you still like me.”

I blush. He’s not wrong. This weekend has been lovely. Holding his hand, feeling like I’m the center of his attention. It’s been nice. Too nice. I have to remember he’s a friend. He is only doing me a favor, nothing more.

We’re half-way home when my phone alerts me I have a text.

Mona:How was the wedding? Did you two scoot off and elope?

Karlee:I told you, he was just pretending to be my boyfriend to get Patrick to leave me alone.

Mona:I wouldn’t be so sure about that.

I glance at Evan. He’s smiling and humming along to the country song that’s playing in the background.

“Evan, we should talk.” I realize how ominous that probably sounds and rush to clarify. “I mean, about the rumors back home.”

He glances at me and smiles. “What about them? They’ve died down, right?”

I shake my head and hold up my phone. “Not if the message I got from Mona just now is any indication.”

He laughs.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious. What are we going to do? I tried telling them you were only faking it to help me save face, but they’re not buying it.”

He laughs. “Well, we could always tell people you realized you were still in love with your ex.” He shrugs. “Or, we could really give it a shot.” A faint pink colors his cheeks.

“Wait, what?”

He looks at me, his brown eyes sparkling. “I like you, Karlee. Why not?”

“Because you don’t date, for one,” I say, holding up a finger. “Because you don’t like me like me.“ I flip up another finger. “The list goes on, Evan.”

I don’t understand what’s happening in my life. One day, I was working toward a goal. Ticking boxes, adding to a hefty savings account, and dreaming of the typical family life. Now I’m in a new city, alone, with possibly the cutest and nicest guy I’ve ever met offering to what? Pity-date me?

“Who says I don’t like you like you?“ He reaches over and takes my hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before letting go to drive. “Seriously, Karlee, I really like you. I’ve been drawn to you since the day Peanut ran up that tree.”

I suck in a breath. “You have?”

He nods. “Yeah, I even told Heath you were off-limits.”

“You did?” I feel like I should have a bigger vocabulary than this right now, but I don’t. Words have escaped me.

“I did. When I saw you with Patrick that day at the coffee shop, I— Well, I didn’t like that feeling. I wanted it to be me sitting across from you. Except you’d be smiling. I hated how upset you looked.” He glances at me from the driver’s seat. “What do you say? Give me a chance to woo you?”

I laugh. “Who says ‘woo’ anymore?”

He grins, that dimple popping out again. “You’re right, but you know what I mean. Let me take you on a date. If you don’t feel anything for me at the end of the night, we’ll figure out a way to tell everyone we’re just friends.” He looks at me for a long moment. “We are friends, right?”

I sigh. “Okay,” I agree. “One date to see how it goes.”

He grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand. “Thanks, Karlee. You won’t regret it.”

Goosebumps erupt on my arms. I can still feel where his lips, soft but firm, were on my hand, and I wonder what they’d feel like pressed against mine. I feel the bloom of a blush heat my cheeks. “Okay,” I whisper.

“When are you off again?”

“Wednesday, but that’s a workday for you. We can wait until I have another weekend day off,” I protest, not wanting him to go out of his way.

“And when is that?” he asks.

“In two weeks.”

“No way. I can’t wait that long now that I’ve gotten you to agree to a date.” He seems so eager, and it’s endearing.

“Okay, Wednesday it is then.” Butterflies do the conga in my chest. I’m nervous, but not because I think the date will be awful. On the contrary. I’m nervous because I’m almost certain it will be the best date of my life.

Wednesday afternoon, I’m staring at the clothes laid out on my bed. I grab my phone and stare at the text message from Evan I’d gotten earlier today.

Evan:Dress comfortably. I’m wearing khaki’s and a button-up, if that helps. I’ll pick you up at six.

Comfortably. I eye the assortment strewn across my bed. Overwhelmed, I decide to ask for help. I open the text app on my phone and start a group chat. Since the girls at work found out I was going on a real date with Evan, they’ve been insistent on being there for me. It’s kind of nice to have girlfriends again.

Karlee:What do you wear on a casual date when you don’t know what you’re doing?

I snap a photo of my bed and send it.

Terran:Oh, this is fun! Did he give you any clues?

Karlee: No. Just said to dress comfortably and be ready at five thirty.

I glance at the clock and my heart rate kicks up. It’s already four forty-five.

Mona:Wear the sundress. It’s casual but flirty. *winking emoji*

Marla:Agree

Terran:I was going to suggest the jeans with the tank top, but they’re probably right.

I shoot off a quick text, telling them all thanks, and grab the sundress off the bed.

Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed, my hair is curled, and I’ve added just a touch of makeup. Casual, but flirty. I like it.

I still have fifteen minutes, so I snap a selfie and send it to the group text. All three women respond right away, telling me it’s perfect. Good.

All too soon, there’s a knock at the door. I take a deep breath, and slide on my strappy sandals. Closing my eyes, I remind myself taking chances isn’t a mistake. I swing open the door, and my jaw drops.

“Sunshine, you look amazing.” Evan leans in and places a small kiss on my cheek. “These are for you.” He holds out the biggest bouquet of Gerbera daisies I’ve ever seen. The colorful arrangement is wrapped in white ribbon.

“Thank you,” I say, taking the flowers and stepping back so he can come in. “Let me get these in some water, and I’ll be ready to go.” My eyes drink him in. Charcoal gray dress pants have replaced his usual jeans. A white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled half-way up his forearms, accentuates his natural tan. He was handsome at the wedding, but this is next level. He’s dressed like this for me.

I turn quickly and head to the kitchen to find the vase I have tucked in the cabinet. When I’m sure he can’t see, I wipe around my mouth, making sure I didn’t accidentally drool.

“These are beautiful,” I say as I fill the vase with water and slide the stems inside. “I love them.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

I am met with his signature dimpled smile when I turn back around. Placing the flowers on the countertop, I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and try to catch my breath.

“Ready to go?” Evan leans on the wall near the door, his hands in his pockets.

I pick up the small handbag from the coffee table and nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I hope my voice sounds steady, because nerves are making my body tremble.

Evan opens the door and lets me out first. I lock the door and drop my keys into my purse. He takes my hand, never dropping it as we descend the stairs, making sure he’s one step ahead of me.

“Why are you going ahead of me? There’s room for us to go down together.” It seems unusual to me.

Evan smiles. “It’s proper etiquette for me to go first. That way, if you trip, I can catch you.” He winks.

“Oh, really? How do you know that?” I ask, fighting back a laugh.

“My mom made sure I took etiquette classes in high school. She wanted me to be the perfect gentleman.” He blushes, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen all day.

“That’s really sweet.”

He grins. “You’ll have to tell her that when you meet her. She’ll be thrilled her efforts paid off, and I’ll get some brownie points.”

We both burst out in laughter. “A momma’s boy, huh?”

He shrugs. “A family guy, really.”

When we get to the bottom of the stairs, he lets me lead the way to his truck, but when I put my hand on the door handle to open the door, he stops me.

“I’ll get that.” He looks at me with his deep brown eyes. “Okay?”

I shrug. “Okay, but I am capable of opening a door, you know.”

Evan opens the door and gives me a hand up. “I know, but I enjoy taking care of you a bit.”

Before I can respond, he shuts the door and walks to his side of the truck. Other guys I know only open doors because they feel obligated to. This feels different—like he’s choosing me.