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“If you had come up to my table in your uniform, you wouldn’t have sat down,” Eve said bluntly.

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “You got something about guys in the military?”

“I know I want a calm, predictable life, and you don’t get that when you marry a career man.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you would say that, given who your dad is,” Oliver said.

“Believe me, my dad wants me to get involved with a soldier even less that I do.”

Oliver didn’t say anything, but guilt and shame niggled at her.

Why do you need to be ashamed for how you feel and what you want out of life?

“It’s not that I don’t respect you or the other men and women who do what you do, but I want a man who will be home for dinner at a decent hour and not gone for years on end. I also refuse to date doctors, lawyers, or CEOs.”

“Well, good to know that you don’t care about money, either.”

“Money doesn’t make up for being alone,” she said softly.

“Considering I’m the last guy you want to get involved with, I’ll respect your wishes,” he said. “I’ll be completely professional from now on.”

Eve swallowed the lump in her throat, and a large part of her wished she hadn’t said anything. Oliver picked up the folder marked VENDORS and started perusing it, but she didn’t believe he was really reading it. She’d hurt

his feelings.

It’s better to stop whatever this is now than to drag it out and get hurt later. It’s better this way.

“WELL, I GUESS that’s it, then,” Oliver said.

Over the last two hours, they had hammered out every detail and divided every task.

And it had been painfully polite, just the way Eve had wanted it.

Her admission that she didn’t date military men had pissed him off and, worse, presented him with a challenge. He had always been a stubborn son of a bitch, and if anyone ever told him he couldn’t do or have something, he’d go out of his way to prove them wrong.

Evelyn had just waved a bright-ass red flag in his face, and all he wanted to do was chase it.

Chase her.

“Thanks for helping me bust through all this,” Eve said.

“And with enough time to watch The Walking Dead.” Oliver thought she winced, but he might have imagined it. He could tell by the way she’d acted earlier that she regretted telling him about her dating policy, but he’d just chalked that up to her nice nature. For all her sass and snark, Eve was a sweetheart.

When she had all her stuff gathered up, she paused and glanced around his house. “You know, I could help you clean up. If you want.”

“That’s okay, I can get it.”

“I don’t mind . . . ”

“Really, Evelyn, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything. I’m a big boy,” he said.

“I didn’t offer because I felt bad,” she said testily. “I offered because despite the terrible people skills, I do like you and think we could be friends.”

Great. Already in the friend zone.

“I have friends.”

“I’m sure you do, but how many of them would help you clean up your house?” she asked.