as if it was entwined with Evan’s. However, none of that mattered. The less she knew about Evan’s life now, the better.
“You’ve done well for yourself.” Claire gestured to encompass his whole house. “Your place is beautiful.”
Evan ducked his head and glanced around. He looked slightly unsure. “Claire, listen. This is awkward.” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “But it doesn’t have to be.”
Both of them running for mayor was awkward, but they were adults and could deal with it. She sucked in a fortifying breath. Now or never. “We need to talk.”
He took a tentative step closer. “I know—I’m sorry. There’s a lot I’ve wanted to say.” His hand came up, as if he wanted to take her hand, or hug her, or rest it on her shoulder, but just as quickly he let it drop to his side. He shook his head once. “You have no idea how sorry I am. About everything.”
Danger! The conversation was not going in the right direction whatsoever. The last thing she wanted was to dig up and rehash any part of their old relationship. She’d held a funeral and buried those lost hopes a long time ago. Exhuming the grave was not going to happen. Not on her watch.
Evan’s brow pinched. “I’ve always re—”
She held up her palm. “I don’t want to talk about that. That’s not why I came here.”
“But I still—”
“No,” she said, louder and with more force than she meant to. “I’m serious. Please. I don’t want to go down that road with you. Not now, not ever.” She tugged on one of her sleeves. “Understood?”
He nodded. “I can respect that.” Then he swallowed hard. “If that’s what you want.”
It was strange to see the ever-sure Evan off-kilter and subdued. Maybe he’d changed over the years. Then again, he could be unnerved about being alone with her. At eighteen he’d decided he never wanted to be with her, and now he was stuck in such a predicament, if only for a few minutes.
Unwanted. Unwelcome. Undesirable.
Not much had changed in twelve years.
She needed to stop thinking like that.
Evan narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’re not here to try to convince me to drop out of the race, are you?” He stepped back, leaned against the half wall that separated his entryway from the living room and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not happening, no matter what you say. I hope you know that.”
She rolled her shoulders. Sparring with Evan was far more comfortable than where the conversation had almost gone.
“Oh, believe me, if you’re as cocky and mule-headed as you were in high school, then of course you’re not going to back down.” She set her purse on the half wall’s ledge. “So no, I’m not here to ask you to drop out.”
The confident smirk she remembered from the past returned to his face. “Cocky and mule-headed, huh? I seem to remember running for president of the senior class and winning.”
“Thank you for demonstrating my point.”
He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, but the tug of a smile hinted that he was enjoying their quick exchange.
“Besides,” Claire added, “you won because I didn’t run against you.” The words came out weak in her ears. If she had run against Evan back then no one would have voted for her. Evan was her best friend and she had a group of friends based on that, but she’d had none to call her own when she was a teenager. Fellow students had either been afraid of her, because of her father, or tried to befriend her in order to get something—again, because of her father.
“Hey!” Evan’s twin dimples appeared as he wagged his finger. “I won fair and square.”
Thank you for not taking a cheap shot.
“Oh right, completely fair.” A genuine laugh sneaked out. “Is that what you call flirting for every vote?”
“I did not—”
She let out a little eep. “You’re planning to get votes that way this time, too, aren’t you? Don’t deny it. You’ll bat your eyes and ‘yes, ma’am’ and hold doors all around town for every woman over thirty and get them all swooning.”
“One.” He pushed off the wall so he was standing less than two feet away. It felt too close, but her back was already against the door and she had nowhere to go. “Last I checked, being polite and respectful isn’t considered flirting. Two.” He used his fingers to tick off his points. “I didn’t win the high school election by flirting. We were dating. You probably don’t think very highly of me, and I’ve earned the lowest marks in your book with cause.” He shoved his hand into his hair and turned to the side. “But know that I’m never going to—how did you say it?” He met her gaze and Claire swallowed past the burn in her throat. “Bat my eyes at another woman if I’m committed to someone else. Three, for that matter I don’t think I even know what batting my eyes means. And four—”
She held up both her hands. “Okay, enough.”
“Four.” He cocked his head and his dimples deepened. “You think I can make women all over town swoon?”
And...he’s back.
This time she didn’t fight the smile that bloomed on her face. “Grow up.”
“You’re the one who suggested it.” He tapped his chin in an exaggerated manner. “Actually, the idea has merit.”
“Don’t pretend you have no clue what I’m talking about. I’ve heard the rumors.”
“What rumors?” His face fell.
“About how friendly—” she put the word in finger quotes “—you are with the tourists.”
He looked genuinely confused. “I guess I don’t understand what you’re insinuating.”
Come on, he had to know. A guy as good-looking as he was had to comprehend the effect he had on a single woman if he was showering her with attention. “Please, Evan. Don’t play stupid.”
“Are you kidding?” His confusion melted into a goofy grin as he pointed at his face. “This is what real stupid looks like. Take a picture. You might be able to sell it to the Discovery Channel. ‘Stupid, Captured in the Wild.’” He imitated a voice-over from an animal documentary.
“You’re impossible.”
He finally sobered. “Whatever you’ve heard, I don’t flirt with anyone. At least, not on purpose. I haven’t even had a girlfriend since...” He shrugged.
Since when? Since her? That would be impossible. A guy like Evan would be considered a hot commodity in a small town like Goose Harbor. Grandmas would invite their adult granddaughters to visit for the summer just to try to pair them up with him. An eligible, attractive bachelor who was deeply involved in the community and his church—what wasn’t to like?
Too bad when Claire looked at him she saw promise-breaker, dream-dasher and leaver, but she was in tune enough to understand why others might be drawn to him.
Evan studied her for a minute, almost as if he wanted to say something important. Finally, he shook his head and said, “Forgive me, where are my manners? Here.” He held out a hand. “I’ll take your coat. It’s cold out there. Let’s go sit by the fire and we can discuss whatever it was you wanted to.”
* * *
Evan crossed from the kitchen to the couch near the fireplace where Claire waited. The smell of chocolate from the mugs in his hands and the burning logs that popped and crackled in the hearth should have been comforting, but he was finding it impossible to relax.
Claire Atwood was in his house.
Years had come and gone since he’d given up hope of