charging for it. He is doing me a favor. You will see.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ev was back with a large ball of yellow yarn—Jonas’s favorite color—and some thick wooden needles that looked pricey even from a distance and a sign-up sheet for Knit Night members who would be interested in a children’s class. Leave it to Ev to turn my misfortune into an opportunity and further sell the Knit Night ladies on his brilliance. In fact, not a single person complained about Jonas, and Violet and the triplets doted on him. To my surprise, Jonas preened under all the attention. He was a typical middle kid at home—quietly enduring the chaos of the twins as they demanded all the energy Renee and I had to give. But here, he was laughing and actually talking as Mira slipped him pieces of the cookie she was supposed to be eating.
She looked tired and frail, and I felt bad that Ev was distracted with teaching Jonas instead of focusing on her. I said as much when he came up for more hot chocolate for Jonas.
“He is the best medicine for her. Not much I can do anymore.” Ev shrugged helplessly. It was the most he’d admitted about her condition, and my teeth clenched hard around expressions of pity he neither needed nor wanted.
He turned back toward the table, and we both watched as Mira praised Jonas’s efforts, straightening his grip with her own trembling hands. Ev’s eyes flickered with heavy shadows, and I longed to rub his shoulders, get some of the tension out, maybe gift him with a nap to relieve some of the circles under his gorgeous dark eyes.
Ev turned back to face me, making an obvious effort to smile. “Now, what should I order for me?”
“Decaf latte,” I said with a grin. I might not be able to give him a nap with a happy ending like I wanted, but I could make him smile.
The initial drink rush was over, so I could take my time, and I did a careful latte art just for him—a little sweater and two knitting needles.
“I love it.” Ev’s smile made me want to make him dozens of lattes.
“We are not quite to the sweater gifting stage, though.” He said the last bit like the punch line to a joke I should know.
“Knitting humor?” I asked.
“Something like that.” He winked at me as he collected the drinks and headed back to the table.
As the evening wound to a close, I came out from behind the counter to help put the tables back.
“So, what’s the verdict? Is Ev a good teacher?” I asked Jonas.
“The best. See what I made?” Jonas held out a scrap of lumpy knitted fabric. “It’s going to be a blanket for my guinea pig.”
“You’re not getting a guinea pig.” All three kids were desperate for a pet, but with my hours and their schedules, it so wasn’t happening. Jonas looked at me like I stole the last chocolate bar and I sighed. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe someday.”
“It would make a lovely coaster for a pot of tea,” Mira said faintly.
“Can I at least have a teapot? One that plugs in?” Jonas asked. Kid didn’t even drink tea, but that was how his brain worked—an errant comment from Mira and he was off to the races. All that boiling water and the kid with no impulse control? My insides went all wobbly at the thought. “How about a water pitcher?”
“I think I’ll take Mira home, get her settled while you close up,” Ev said, touching my shoulder. Even that small contact had me wanting to sink into him. “But then I can come and give you a ride home?”
“You don’t have to.” It would be a long trudge without a skateboard for Jonas, but we’d done it before.
“I want to.” Ev looked right at my mouth as he said the words. “And you do not work Sunday night right? I want to cook for you again.”
My whole body went hot at the memory of the last time Ev had cooked for me. When I’d finally eaten the food on my break, each bite had been laced with the memory of his kisses. I wasn’t sure whether he meant cook or cook, but I had to shake my head.
“It’s Brady’s birthday!” Jonas fairly trembled with excitement. “And we’re going to the zoo in the morning. Like last year. And then we’ll help him make the cake!”
“It’s your birthday?” Ev made a tsking sound, like I should have told him sooner.
“Yeah.” Truth was, I didn’t need a big fuss. Last year, Mom’s death had been fresher, and my birthday had been more about giving the kids something to get excited over and feel connected as a family about than something for me. But as I’d found out, kids love making traditions out of things. So zoo and a cake it was.
“Jonas? Do you think your plans could include dinner at my house?” Ev spoke directly to Jonas. Manipulative, brilliant bastard. “If you want help making the cake, you could come early. Or you can bring the cake and I will do dinner.”
Jonas considered his options with a very adultlike furrowed brow. “We’ll bring the cake. Do you know how to make whipped cream?”
“I do indeed,” Ev said solemnly. “Now, what is Brady’s favorite food?”
“Brady loves all the Turkish stuff you’ve made me,” I interjected before Jonas could request pizza or spaghetti, both of which were his favorites.
Jonas thought for a minute. “Nothing too weird. And lots of bread. The floppy kind you had with the soup.”
“Consider it done. Lots of bread. Maybe kebab? That’s meat on sticks?”
Jonas nodded. “We’ll bring him to you at dinnertime. He doesn’t want presents unless we make them ourselves.”
“That I can most certainly do.” Ev’s eyes sparkled.
Later, as he drove us home, I said quietly, “You don’t have to make me something. And the kids are going to exhaust Mira. And it’s not like we’ll be able to—”
“One more and and I’m going to make you barley water and knit you something unmentionable out of fake fur,” Ev grumbled. “It’s your birthday. People want to do nice things for you. Your job is to let them.”
“All right. Although I’m intrigued by the fake fur—”
“Hush. We do not speak of such atrocities.” Ev did an exaggerated shudder as he pulled up by the apartment building.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, checking my phone to see a message that the twins were on their way home as well.
“Any time.” Ev spent a long moment looking right at my mouth, his eyes furrowed, like he was doing some complicated calculus about whether or not to kiss me good night.
I solved the issue for him by leaning in to brush a quick kiss across his lips. Damn. Even the briefest contact with Ev’s mouth had all the sizzle.
“Call me later.” I gave him a heated look promising all the whispered dirty talk he could stand. And yes, that was totally what my game was reduced to these days.
“Is Ev like your boyfriend?” Jonas asked as I grabbed my skateboard from the back of the car.
I waited until we were on the path to the apartment to answer. “Not exactly.”
“But you both like kissing boys right?” Jonas pressed.
“Yes. We both like kissing boys.” Oh, if only Ev saw it as simply as a ten-year-old.
“I don’t want to kiss a boy.” Jonas made a sour face as he considered the prospect.
“When you’re older, you can kiss whomever you’d like, as long as they want to kiss you back,” I said carefully, ruffling his hair.
“Ev kissed you back.” Jonas gave me a sly smile. “I think you guys should be boyfriends. I like him.”
“I like him too.” I sighed as I opened