Читать онлайн книгу «Sweet Southern Nights» автора Liz Talley

Sweet Southern Nights
Liz Talley
One kiss can change everything Eva Monroe is always cool under pressure. As a firefighter, it's part of the job. But after kissing Jake Beauchamp in a moment of confusion, she's struggling to keep it together. Jake's her best friend and coworker–two very good reasons why crossing this line is a bad idea.Yet something between them must've changed, because one kiss isn't nearly enough–for either of them. But Jake is haunted by a past tragedy and isn't the commitment type. With more than just Eva's heart on the line, she needs to end things now before this fire burns out of control.


One kiss can change everything
Eva Monroe is always cool under pressure. As a firefighter, it’s part of the job. But after kissing Jake Beauchamp in a moment of confusion, she’s struggling to keep it together. Jake’s her best friend and coworker—two very good reasons why crossing this line is a bad idea.
Yet something between them must’ve changed, because one kiss isn’t nearly enough—for either of them. But Jake is haunted by a past tragedy and isn’t the commitment type. With more than just Eva’s heart on the line, she needs to end things now before this fire burns out of control.
Eva sat up.
“It was a dumb kiss,” she said. “I don’t know why I did it. Just drop it.”
Of course she knew why she’d kissed him. She’d dreamed about doing just that for three years, yearning for his body against hers, almost desperate to take one little taste of Jake.
But he didn’t have to know that.
“No,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin.
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“See, thing is, that was a crappy kiss. How can I let you walk around thinking that subpar kiss was indicative of what I’m capable of? That would be...a travesty.” He reached over and dragged her into his lap, turning her so she tipped à la Scarlett O’Hara into his arms.
“Jake,” she said struggling against him even as something way deep down inside her screamed, “hell, yeah.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_9dd1c3da-e8f8-57db-8bf7-d19903910920),
I’m so happy to be back in Magnolia Bend and giving that rascal Jake Beauchamp a bit of a comeuppance with a woman so suited to him. Of course, ol’ Jake never thought about how perfectly his best friend fits him. Eva’s such a strong woman, fearlessly stepping in to take care of her younger brother and determined to prove to everyone she’s tough enough to be the MBFD’s newest captain. And Jake has to make amends with a past he’s run from for all too long, finding the courage to break out of being the man he created long ago. There is danger, excitement and passion within the pages of this story, and I think you’ll like catching up with the rest of the Beauchamp gang.
So come back with me to the sweet Louisiana town where love, life and the good stuff all meet up.
I love hearing from my readers. You can stay in touch with me through liztalleybooks.com (http://www.liztalleybooks.com) or find me on Facebook at liztalleybooks (https://www.facebook.com/liztalleybooks).
Happy reading!
Liz
Sweet Southern Nights
Liz Talley


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
After being a finalist for RWA’s prestigious Golden Heart Award in Regency romance, LIZ TALLEY found a home writing sassy contemporary romance. Her first book, Vegas Two-Step, starred a spinster librarian and debuted in June 2010. Since that time, Liz has published fourteen more Superromances. Her stories are set in the South where the tea is sweet, the summers are hot and the men are hotter. Liz lives in North Louisiana with her childhood sweetheart, two handsome children, three dogs and a mean kitty. You can visit Liz at liztalleybooks.com (http://www.liztalleybooks.com) to learn more about her upcoming books.
The book is dedicated to the men and women who face deadly fires in order to save lives and property. A special thank-you goes to my childhood neighbor, Captain Guy Mandino, and the Minden Fire Department who so graciously gave me a tour, answered questions and modeled what it is to be an everyday hero.
I would also like to thank Bora Sunseri, who helped me in regards to Child Protective Services.
And finally, the person who gave me a chance to blossom into the writer I am today. I will forever be grateful to Wanda Ottewell for guiding me, teaching me and being my friend.
Contents
Cover (#u22564cec-cfe6-5d28-ba4f-2f18bdf4ddb0)
Back Cover Text (#u37f6b875-a0ee-5968-9a20-e574d2ac60ee)
Introduction (#ud2f615b0-850c-57d7-9d32-4f1f40264c14)
Dear Reader (#u89ff2743-f584-50cb-8aa5-61ad97677957)
Title Page (#uffea7c56-0f85-5ca7-b51e-3889f85e3326)
About the Author (#u5e33d5a2-022f-5fa4-bd60-a3adca1412ee)
Dedication (#u44b19542-ca7e-5967-aa4c-26878154b452)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub2709079-b877-5ba7-90bb-f8303b74cc1e)
CHAPTER TWO (#u3e437e8b-fcbc-5980-9607-3a7de85d027f)
CHAPTER THREE (#ue1c132a9-6238-5925-a16f-7b6c5d48c64c)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u117dfe10-6976-5839-a756-dbd04ddb1e86)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ua55d5f78-f071-59a1-9577-edcbacc5c4f5)
CHAPTER SIX (#ubac703ea-224c-56fd-964f-7bd39a1dc2e6)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_cd62b8f0-8371-5946-98fa-1ab275d9b907)
EVA MONROE ADJUSTED her helmet as Engine One roared up to the Magnolia Breeze residential complex.
“You ready?” Jake Beauchamp asked her, his blue eyes intense.
“I’m always ready,” she said, fitting the Nomex hood over her braided hair and securing the Velcro on her bunker coat. Her heart galloped in her throat. Didn’t matter that she’d done this hundreds of times. Preparing to battle a fire always felt the same. Like sex. Didn’t know how good or bad it was going to be, but you were going to get hot and sweaty either way.
Captain Sorrento crossed himself as he shifted the engine into Park alongside a curb grown wooly with overgrown crabgrass. A string of tired duplexes squatted next to the one smudging a sky the color of Cozumel Bay with dark smoke. “Check your radios. Everyone safe.”
“Everyone safe,” she and Jake repeated the department mantra.
Eva fitted her SCBA, strapping the air tank securely before pulling her mask over her mouth. She glanced at Jake, who’d done the same, his eyes crackling with intensity and focus.
Jake was always focused.
“FD2, go to C and give a status. FD5, start initial attack at A.” Captain Hank Sorrento already stood at the helm, flipping levers and barking directives at the engines pulling in behind. “Catch me a hydrant, Engine Four.”
Eva bailed out after Jake, just the way she liked it. When she first joined the squad, one of the older guys tried to let her out ahead of him saying “Ladies first.”
It had pissed Eva off...and Jake must have noticed because he said, “You kidding? She ain’t no lady. She’s a goddamn fire swallower, ready to put this bitch out.”
His words had made Eva laugh...and Dutch Rinaudo frown. Dutch was a home-grown Louisiana boy who still struggled with the fact Eva was his equal on the squad. Jake had grinned at Dutch and then pushed Eva back, bailing out before she could.
Later when she rolled the scene around in her mind, she wondered if his charging in first was because he couldn’t wait to face death or because he wanted to protect her.
Probably the first one.
Though she’d been friends with Jake for years, she didn’t doubt that embedded deep within his modern brain was the masculine desire to protect the weaker sex.
She snorted at the thought of her being weaker.
Weaker, her ass.
Jake hooked his accountability tag on the large cone designed to help keep track of who had tanks and was active on the scene before jerking back around to face her. “Want me to get the beast so you can break the window?”
Eva gave him the look, and Jake grinned. Ever since she’d nearly broken her hand trying to break a thick plexiglass window with the Halligan tool, Jake had given her grief.
Her heavy gloves prevented her from giving him the finger.
Smoke poured from the upper right corner of the freestanding, single-story apartment building. When Eva reached the backside as the captain instructed her to do, she called in her position and assessment. The captain barked commands, and Eva noted Moon Avery attaching the LDH to feed the pump.
“FD5, get the front door. Start initial through A. Let’s push this back. FD2, report to front.” Jake would go through and attack, while Eva headed back to the front to assist...or whatever the captain wanted her to do.
Moon set a ladder against the front side of the building and started securing the hose straps. Moon drove Engine Four and had worked for the department for almost twenty-three years. Martin drove the snorkel truck, which idled behind the two pumpers, the aerial bucket dangling like a forgotten toy.
Moon looked at her and jerked his head to an older woman huddled with a young girl, both crying.
Eva’s stomach flared aggravation. She shook her head.
Her radio crackled and Captain Sorrento said, “FD2, interview residents.”
“Shit.” Eva gritted her teeth, pissed that once again she wouldn’t be part of the attack and that she’d been relegated to deal with the teary-eyed while Jake and Martin smashed in the front door and knocked down the fire.
But then Eva looked at the older woman standing in a striped housecoat, dampness streaking her cheeks, anguish in her eyes, and softened as she headed toward where the pair held each other. Chief Blume met her there.
Eva pulled off her mask. “Anyone else in the building, ma’am?”
“Just me and Kiki. The people next door are at work. Ollie puts Zeke and Zara on the bus at ten to seven before she leaves for the day,” the woman said.
With sad eyes, the woman watched the hoses begin to pump. “They gonna ruin my mama’s quilt.” The girl she held to her looked about ten or eleven years old, and she watched stoically as the other firefighters scrambled to get into position.
Eva slid off her gloves, hooking them on her bunker coat. “We have tarps, and once we access the apartment we’ll do our best to cover your furnishings.”
The chief leveled bushy eyebrows at Eva. “I’m not assuming command, but I’ll send Martin next door to clear the apartment.”
“I can go,” Eva said.
“No, you stay here with Ms....”
“Glory Mitchell,” the woman managed, wiping her eyes with one hand.
“Ms. Mitchell,” the chief repeated, glancing back at Eva. “Take care of things here, Eva. Thanks.” The chief walked away before Eva could protest. She snapped her mouth shut, tamping down the sour taste of disappointment.
Over her shoulder, she heard Jake burst into Glory’s apartment using the battering ram. The older woman sucked in an injured breath before moaning and turned away. Her threadbare cotton robe swished against the tall hitchhiker grass peppering the yard.
“Oh, Jesus, they broke the door,” Glory said, her shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe this.”
“It’ll be okay, Ms. Mitchell. You’re safe, and that’s most important. Doors can be fixed.”
The older woman nodded, trying to staunch the emotion shaking her.
“So, can you tell me what happened?” Eva asked.
“When I saw those curtains on fire, I grabbed Kiki and we ran out the back door. She had her phone so I called 911.”
“Very smart, Ms. Mitchell,” Eva said, taking the older woman’s elbow and moving her back toward the sprawling mimosa tree on the edge of the yard. Seemed like the only thing that grew on the hardscrabble lot. Glory shuffled back, but her eyes remained fixed on the apartment building.
Captain Sorrento released the valves, and water started pumping out of the blue hose strapped to the ladder and the red hose Jake had dragged in through the front door.
“Ms. Mitchell, do you have any idea what may have sparked this fire?” Eva asked, placing a gentle hand on Glory’s shoulder.
“I don’t rightly know. I was cooking breakfast, and Kiki was in the bathroom. You do somethin’, Kiki?”
The girl shook her head but her gaze slid away.
“Then I heard Kiki start screaming.”
“So you don’t know where the fire started?”
Glory shook her head.
“Uh, the bedroom. I think,” Kiki said. “I mean, there was this, uh, lighter sittin’ on the dresser.”
Glory stiffened. “What’s a lighter doin’ in you and your mama’s room?”
“Ms. Quita gave Mama a candle that smells like peaches. She been lighting it at night so our room don’t smell like feet,” Kiki said, her voice almost a whisper.
Glory grabbed Kiki’s shoulder, pulling her toward her. “Girl, did you start this? Did you?”
“No, Ma Glory,” Kiki said, whipping her head back and forth. “I didn’t do nothin’. Mama lit the candle last night but she blew it out. I think. I don’t know. I just saw that lighter. That’s all.”
“Don’t make no sense,” Glory said, anger crackling in her voice even as she released the girl. “A lighter don’t suddenly light itself.”
“I opened the window,” the girl said.
“Why you do that?”
Kiki swiped an arm across her nose and stuck out her chin. “I was hot. We ain’t had no air-conditioning in a long time and I don’t wanna go to school sweaty. That’s all I did. I only told this lady the lighter was there ’cause there’s fluid in it that catches fire, right?” The girl looked at Eva.
“That’s right,” Eva said, scanning the area. A few residents of Spring Street had gathered, all in various state of morning dress, some holding coffee cups. Nothing like a fire to bring out lookyloos.
Eva flinched when she saw a Magnolia Bend Police cruiser lurch to a stop behind the snorkel truck. Funny how every time she saw one of the town’s finest stepping from a police car, she tensed for a confrontation. Her break up with Officer Chase Grider was recent enough to still make her uncomfortable.
Thankfully, it wasn’t Chase but his brother Cole.
Eva excused herself, radioed the point of origin to the captain and went to Engine One to get the prefire plan binder so she could start the on-scene report. Hank was still busy running the fire, which looked to be knocked down, while Moon was at the back of the engine, pulling out the positive pressure fan to clear the smoke and blow some good air inside the still-smoking apartment.
Bobby John Crow, the department’s fire investigator, pulled in behind the police cruiser, meeting Cole, who held a coffee from the Short Stop. Bobby John’s motto was that every fire was potential arson. Eva had argued with him about it once, to which Bobby John had flipped a beer bottle cap and declared it was his job to prove it wasn’t.
Whatever. Wasn’t her job.
Jake came trudging out, still on his tank, tugging the red hose. Moon had already cut off the blue one. Acrid smoke hung in the air like a persistent salesman, and the apartment building looked forlorn and lost.
“Morning, fellas,” Bobby John said as he approached the engine. Eva grabbed the binder and stood, nearly bumping her head on the top of the engine. Bobby John made a face. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see it was you.”
But he had known damn well it was Eva bent over in Engine One.
He was the only guy who took pleasure in needling Eva about being a female firefighter. Yeah, Jake teased, but he respected her. And Dutch was just old-school and found it hard to step outside the social mores he’d been raised with. But Bobby John outright didn’t like the fact Eva had been hired— period. She’d overheard him once tell Dutch she was a token, that women didn’t belong in the department. He also hadn’t let go of the fact that when he’d hit on her the first night she was in town, she’d shot him down.
Eva turned, shapeless beneath her gear, her dark wavy hair concealed under her helmet. “Easy mistake, since you don’t get to see the female form that often.”
“Ouch,” he said, the smile not quite reaching his cold blue eyes. “What’ve we got here?”
“I think you’ll find your origin in the back bedroom. Ten to one, the curtains blew into a lit candle, but the residents are over there.” She pointed toward Glory and Kiki, who were now talking to a few neighbors.
Bobby John’s gaze flitted over her face, lingering a bit too long on her lips. For the umpteenth time in her life, Eva wished she was plain.
Yeah. Most girls wanted to be dainty and pretty.
Not Eva. Because being small and attractive wasn’t a plus when a gal was fighting for equality in a nontraditional occupation for women. She figured if she’d been born country-strong with a blockier form and a jutting jawline, she’d probably have climbed the ladder of the firefighting profession more quickly. Only a handful of female firefighters had made captain or chief in other Louisiana municipalities.
Eva barely met the required weight for being a firefighter, and her upturned exotic eyes, long dark hair and breasts a bit too big for her body type didn’t help when it came to hefting hoses and swinging axes. So she used her smart-assed mouth and brains to gain respect.
It worked, for the most part.
Sometimes the guys even forgot she had boobs.
But most of the time they didn’t, cracking jokes about her orchid shampoo or blanching when they found a box of her tampons under the sink at the station.
In some ways it felt like the 1960s in Magnolia Bend.
She probably should have taken the job in Slidell, but the charm of Magnolia Bend and the fact that it was only a short drive to where her mother lived had swayed her.
And then there was Jake.
“Hey, Eva,” Jake called, jogging toward her, mask connector dangling, his jacket split open to reveal the softball T-shirt that clung just tight enough to show how trim his stomach was. “Want to work out later?”
“Sure. But I already told Clint I’d meet him there.” She worked out with Jake’s childhood friend several times a week. Though Clint was in a wheelchair, he was a gym rat.
“That’s cool. I can pick him up and head to Ray-Ray’s from there.”
She and Jake were on C shift and had been since she’d started three years ago. She’d transferred in from Baton Rouge FD with six years under her belt. Jake had the exact same number of years’ experience and an easy way about him. Captain Sorrento had put them on the same shift, and they’d pretty much stayed together unless someone was on vacation.
Jake was probably her absolute best friend.
And he had no idea she’d fallen head over heels for him the first time she laid eyes on him.
“Perfect,” she said, pulling his tag off the clip on the cone and handing it to him. “I’ll be glad to kick your ass again.”
“Pfft,” Jake scoffed, rolling those pretty eyes before tossing his bunker coat in the back and grabbing the nearest hose. “You kickbox like a girl.”
“Damn right.”
“Which means she fights dirty,” Moon snickered, lifting the ladder back into place.
Jake glanced up, cracking a smile, making Eva’s heart skip a beat. Why did the man have to be so gorgeous? Why did his T-shirt have to cling so spectacularly to his torso? Why did—
The radio crackled, distracting her, as Martin relayed that the apartment was clear. Time to clear the scene.
Eva tugged off her helmet and bunker coat and found a pen. Normally, she’d help stow the equipment, but since Hank had pulled her around front and several volunteer firemen had arrived to assist, she filled in the paperwork normally done by the driver. Might as well save Hank some time and earn her some brownie points. With Wendell contemplating retirement in order to run a yard service full-time, Eva wanted to make captain.
Only Jake stood in her way.
And that was a huge problem.
Not because she loved Jake, but because he deserved the promotion as much as she did.
And she might get it over him just because she didn’t have a penis—which didn’t sit well with her. Not the not having a penis part—she really didn’t want one—but that she’d get the job not based on merit but rather on her gender. The word token flitted through her mind again.
“Hey, miss.”
Eva ripped her gaze from the paperwork fluttering on the clipboard to find Kiki standing beside her. “Hey, Kiki. You need me?”
“I’m just worried about Zeke.”
Zeke? Who was that? A cat? Eva had forgotten to ask about pets. “Who’s Zeke?”
“He lives in 30A. He’s only eight.”
Eva grabbed her mic. “Did we clear 30A?”
“No occupants detected. All secure,” Hank responded.
Eva looked at Kiki. “We didn’t find anyone.”
“Well, he ain’t gonna answer. He ain’t supposed to be home. He said he was gonna stay home because Jarvis Bell said he was gonna whip his ass for telling Mrs. Haydell he cheated on his spelling test. His Big Mama will whoop him good if she knows he’s home.” Kiki looked at the closed door of the apartment housed next door to hers.
“Christ,” Eva breathed, grabbing her mask and attaching her accountability tag to the PVC pipe atop the cone. “Stay here, Kiki.”
Eva ran toward the closed apartment, calling into her mic. “FD2, reassessing apartment A. Resident indicates possible child on the premises.”
“Shit,” Hank shouted.
Eva pulled on her gloves and connected the mask to the tank, sucking in the cool oxygen. She hopped onto the porch stoop and tried the front door—it was locked. Behind her she saw Jake and Martin coming toward her with the battering ram in hand.
Eva eyed the flimsy doorknob.
Then she kicked in the door. The wood of the jamb splintered and the door flew back, slamming against the interior wall. The apartment revealed in the morning light showed a place that was definitely lived-in, with breakfast dishes piled in the dated kitchen sink and a tired tweed green couch covered in laundry.
No active smoke.
Eva pulled off her mask, sucking in the acrid smell. “Zeke?”
No answer.
“Jesus, Eva. We had the beast,” Jake said behind her. “But nice kick.”
She didn’t say anything. Just moved toward the dark yawn of the hallway.
“Zeke?” she shouted again.
The heat in the apartment wasn’t a result of the fire they’d extinguished next door. The combination of a humid August and the heavy bunker gear she wore made Eva feel as if she’d entered the mouth of hell. She flung open the first door she came to—an empty room with a floral bedspread and lace curtains.
She motioned Jake inside as she stepped toward the other bedroom.
The door stood open, a huge fathead of some basketball player dominating one wall. A small unmade twin bed sat in one corner; pajamas and tennis shoes littered the carpet.
“Zeke?” she called.
From the open closet a head emerged. Two big brown eyes, popped wide, met her gaze.
“Zeke?” she asked, softening her voice.
“Yeah?”
Eva released a pent-up breath of relief. “What are you still doing inside? Don’t you know there was a fire next door?”
He crawled out, a small Matchbox car rolling as he emerged from the depths. “I don’t wanna get in trouble.”
Zeke looked about eight years old with closely shorn hair, gorgeous chocolate skin and—Lord help her—the cutest dimples she may have ever seen. “Trouble smouble. No one stays in a burning house.”
“Y’all put it out,” he said, shuffling toward her. His feet were bare, and he wore only a pair of faded athletic shorts that clung to his small hips.
Jake appeared at her shoulder. “Jesus. He was in here the whole time?”
“Yeah.” Eva toed the tennis shoes toward Zeke, nodding her head for him to slip them on. “Chief is gonna freak. Who was supposed to clear?”
Martin appeared in the room, looking like a thundercloud. “I did. Front door was unlocked and I came in each room. Even opened the closets. Never saw him. Cleared it and locked the front door, you know, outta courtesy.” Martin glowered at the boy, who studied the shoelaces he’d just tied sloppily. “Young man, why didn’t you answer me when I called out?”
The little boy didn’t look up. “’Cause you’re a stranger, and I ain’t supposed to talk to strangers.”
Eva slid her gaze over to meet Jake’s laughing eyes. She tried not to smile, but her lips twitched in spite of herself.
Martin grumped. “So she’s not a stranger?”
“She knew my name,” Zeke said, shrugging thin shoulders. He looked up and tilted his head. “’Sides, I seen her on the field trip. She let us climb on the fire truck.”
“Pfft,” Martin said, turning around and trudging toward the front of the house, muttering under his breath things no eight-year-old needed to hear.
“Come on, Zeke. We need to call your grandmother,” Eva said.
“No. She’s gonna whoop me good. I ain’t supposed to be here. I faked getting on the bus.”
“You’ll have to deal with those repercussions. Even without a fire next door, you put yourself in danger. Small boys cannot stay home by themselves.” Eva placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the front door.
“I’m gonna get a whoopin’ either way, I guess,” the boy said, his shoulders slumping.
“Maybe not,” Eva said, glancing over her shoulder at Jake, who watched the boy with a grin. She was about to go on about how Zeke could have been injured or even killed, but then when she looked back at the forlorn boy, who wagged his head, looking resigned to dealing with his grandmother, she zipped her lips.
“Oh, I’m gonna get it, all right. Big Mama don’t forget. But I’m glad you saved me anyway.”
Eva pressed her lips tightly to keep from laughing. Damn, the kid was cute.
Eva turned the child over to Chief Blume, who stood with Glory and Kiki. Glory renewed her waterworks after clutching Zeke tightly and groaning about how stupid the boy had been.
Eva slid the on-scene report into the binder filled with preplans for all the municipal buildings and businesses in the small town and then decided to help the rest of her team put away the gear. She’d just grabbed her accountability tag when Cole sauntered up, grinning like a kid at a fireworks stand. “Well, looka’ here. If it isn’t the hottest fireman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You don’t get around much. Not surprised, since you’re such a mama’s boy,” Eva returned, lifting her eyebrows, silently inquiring whether her favorite cop wanted to keep going toe-to-toe with her.
Cole laughed. “Call me pretty boy again and I’ll file a complaint.” He pretended to fluff nonexistent hair. Cole had gone prematurely bald at twenty-five and now shaved his head smooth. But he was pretty nonetheless. And absolutely gay. Not that anyone besides her and his brother knew. Cole swore he’d bolted the closet shut the minute he was sworn in as a police officer in Magnolia Bend.
“I said mama’s boy.”
“Oh, well. That’s true,” he cracked, lifting his foam cup in a mocking toast.
“How they hangin’?” Jake said to Cole as he extended his fist. He handed Eva one of the bottles of water he carried in his other hand.
“What’s up, Jake?” Cole asked, popping his knuckles against Jake’s.
“Just puttin’ out fires,” Jake said, jerking his head toward the apartment before sending a devilish grin Eva’s way. “Someone’s gotta do it.”
This time her glove wasn’t in the way of the finger she shot Jake.
Cole laughed. “She’s gonna kick your ass for that.”
“Yeah, she thinks she is, but ol’ Jake Beauchamp’s got a little something left in the tank,” Jake cracked, wiggling his eyebrows at Eva.
“I’m surrounded by the deluded,” Eva said, rolling her eyes.
“Gotta skedaddle. I’m meeting Chase out at Jennings. Someone’s been stealing copper out of their units,” Cole said, tossing the cup toward the trash cans standing sentry at the end of the driveway.
“Oh? Usually you’re investigating the doughnuts over at PattyAnns,” Eva called.
Cole mimicked a gun firing with a finger and thumb and staggered back toward his cruiser. “You got me,” he said with a flirty wink before sliding back into the car.
She and Jake stood for a minute, sucking down water and watching as Cole pulled away. He issued a wave and then hit the siren once as he rolled away.
“I think he’s in love with you,” Jake said, turning back toward the duplex.
“I’m pretty sure he isn’t,” she said.
“Because of Chase?” He made a face just uttering her ex-boyfriend’s name. Jake wasn’t a fan of Chase’s. They’d gone to school together, competing against each other for starting linebacker...and for who got to date the prettiest cheerleader. When Eva had broken things off with Chase, Jake had gotten a little easier to be around. She’d like to think it was because deep down underneath his playboy image, he carried a small torch for her. But she knew that wasn’t the reason. Jake had just gotten tired of Chase always hedging in on their gym time together, trying to outlift him.
“Yeah. Something like that,” she said, emptying the rest of the bottle.
“Hey, Wendell put in his papers. His wife’s gonna throw him a retirement party next month. Guess it’s official.” Jake took her empty bottle and walked it over to the trash can.
“What is?” she said.
Jake smiled against the sun peeking over the top of the trees, his auburn hair glowing like embers. His bright blue eyes, strong jaw and white teeth prominent against his tanned skin. He looked like pure sex. Like the kind of guy who knew right where to place his lips, right where to stroke, right where to tease. He was like a walking fantasy—teenaged heartthrob, rock ’n’ roll drummer and dangerous outlaw rolled into one. “That I get to arm wrestle you for the captain’s spot.”
Eva laughed and chucked him on the chin. “Give it your best shot, Maverick.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_5c3b862c-bb08-5ce5-b550-b64830681f95)
THE SCENE AT Ray-Ray’s was the same. It was always the same.
Jake peeled the label from his NOLA beer and watched as his older brother, Matt, threw darts with one of the teachers from the school where Matt was principal. Jake couldn’t remember the older guy’s name. Only that he was from Oregon and drank Johnnie Walker Black Label.
Across from Jake sat the guy he’d talked into peeing on an electric fence when they were eleven years old, the guy he’d caught his first bass with, the guy who’d stolen his old man’s cigarettes and shared them with Jake. Clint Cochran had been his best bud only since forever, and every week Jake picked him up and sat with him at a table while he nursed a gin and tonic.
“What’s wrong?” Clint said after several minutes of them listening to Trace Adkins belt out a tune. His friend took a sip of his drink, and Jake noticed how big Clint’s biceps had gotten. All his gym work with Eva had paid off...as had the fact that Clint had to heft himself into bed, to the toilet and into the car. It took tremendous strength to move the bulk of his lower half around.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“It’s this town, isn’t it?” Clint asked, his dark eyes searching his for some weakness, hoping Jake would finally crack. It was a game they played sometimes, a guilt-riddled, smoldering resentment of a game.
“Nah. Why would it be the town?”
“’Cause you’ve been here all your life and you’re sick of it. Hell, you’ve dated every woman within twenty miles and could drive the streets blindfolded. You’re done.”
Clint wanted Jake to admit he hated Magnolia Bend. He wanted Jake to say he was only here because he felt guilty. That if Clint hadn’t been paralyzed ten years ago that Jake would be in LA or Chicago or even Baton Rouge. That he’d be anywhere but at a run-down bar, eating stale pretzels and babysitting a cripple.
But Jake would never say that...even if sometimes it felt true.
“I’m not sick of it. I could be the goddamn mayor if I wanted. Right here is a walking poster for tourism.” Jake thumped his chest, trying to summon lightness.
“Hell, yeah, it is. I’d take a tour,” Vicky Barrett drawled, twirling a piece of hair over his ear before sinking down on the empty chair to Jake’s right. “What you boys got on tap tonight?”
“Well, I’m thinking about doing a couple of shots, dancing the two-step with a sexy lady and then getting laid,” Clint said with a wry laugh before looking down at his withered legs. “No, wait. I forgot.”
Vicky laughed and the sound grated on Jake’s nerves. “You’re such a hoot, Clint. And hell, you don’t need legs for two of those things.”
Jake didn’t say anything because Clint’s being in a wheelchair—no matter whether he could joke about it or not—would never be funny to him.
Never.
Clint knew that, but his friend danced on the edge tonight. He wanted a fight with Jake, but Jake wasn’t picking up what Clint was laying down. Been there, done that, hated himself for it.
The door to the bar opened, and Eva walked in accompanied by her friend Jenny, who worked for the sheriff’s department. He raised a hand, noting that Jenny looked pretty damn good in her tight jeans and halter top. He’d actually dated her back in the day. Maybe it was time to get reacquainted with the lithe Jenny, who if he remembered correctly made a good omelet and insisted on brushing her teeth before kissing him good morning.
Eva had her hair up, with hoop earrings that brushed her long neck. She wore a T-shirt that stretched her broad shoulders, framing a nice rack. Her shorts were a bit too short. He didn’t like her showing off her long legs any more than he’d like his sister, Abigail, doing so. No need to advertise the goods. He waved an arm and Eva inclined her head, giving Jenny a little push in the right direction.
Vicky noticed and frowned.
“What’s up, ladies?” Jake said, scooting his chair back and grabbing an empty one from the table behind him. He smiled at Jenny and patted the chair. “Have a seat.”
Eva rolled her eyes, snagged another chair from behind her and sank down next to Clint. “Hey, Clint. How’re things?”
Clint shrugged but his eyes lit up at the sight of Eva. “Same ol’ same old. Nothing’s changed since I saw you three hours ago. Or from yesterday when you stopped by with those brownies for Dad. They were good, by the way.”
“You know I didn’t bake them, right?”
“Duh,” he said, flashing a smile that made Jake’s heart ache. He’d seen that smile a million times...just not from the man currently in the state-of-the-art wheelchair. That smile was like a whisper of the past sliding past him.
“What’ll you have?” Jake asked Jenny as her leg brushed his, tearing his mind away from the maudlin. She smelled good—like wildflowers or some other crap women liked to slather themselves with. She wore a push-up bra that lifted her small breasts, creating a delicious valley for his perusal. He jerked his gaze away and lifted his eyes, meeting Eva’s. She mouthed “pervert” and he grinned. Hell, if Jenny wanted to show them off, he was obligated to look.
“I’ll take a glass of white wine,” Jenny said, grabbing a napkin to spit her gum in.
A tired waitress trudged toward them. “What’ll it be?”
Jake took out two twenties. “White wine for Jenny, a Miller Lite each for Eva and Vicky and another round for me and Clint.”
“You don’t have to pay for my drink, Jake. I got my own, Bonnie,” Eva said.
“Ah, let him,” Bonnie growled before trudging back to the bar.
The place was only half-filled because it was Thursday night and just barely eight thirty. Things would pick up closer to ten, but by that time Jake usually had Clint in the car heading back to Duck Blind Bayou and the custom-built, handicap-friendly lake house where his friend lived with his father. These nights with Clint were obligation nights. Not nights to pick up women or forget the clock. He could only lay the groundwork for something more with Jenny later.
If he wanted to go in that direction.
His personal life had felt desolate lately, as if he’d reached a plateau and didn’t know what direction to walk in. Up until early summer he’d dated a lethally sexy librarian. Kate had a smoking body beneath her pencil skirts, and she even wore those nerdy black-rimmed glasses and pinned her hair up. But the woman was flippin’ wild in the sack. She’d worn him slap out, but eventually it had been sex, sex and more sex, and contrary to what most men said, eventually you have to talk to each other.
Kate tanked when it came to conversation. She couldn’t name a single National League team, thought NASCAR was stupid and ate weird food like goji berries and flaxseed. Eventually they stopped calling each other for hookups.
But dating Jenny could get complicated. She and Eva had become good friends. He didn’t need the obstacle of having to watch everything he said to Eva or having her run to tell Jenny if he’d flirted with a woman at the grocery store. So maybe he’d forgo laying that groundwork.
“You want to dance?” Jenny asked, leaning toward him, her blue eyes soliciting an invitation.
“Sure,” he said, sliding his chair back. “Let’s work up a thirst.”
Clint’s gaze moved over the two of them as they escaped to the dance floor. Jake usually didn’t dance when he was with Clint because it felt too shitty to do something his friend could not, but for some reason, he had to get away for a moment. To think.
And to hold an armful of something sweet and warm.
Jenny looped her arms around his neck. “You look good tonight, Jake. I like your shirt.”
“This old thing?” He plucked at the fabric with his thumb and forefinger. It was a gingham plaid shirt from some preppy catalog his mother favored. The blue matched his eyes and set off the tan he’d picked up fishing with his brother all summer. His jeans were tight and his boots well-worn. He skipped wearing a cowboy hat, unlike most of the guys in the bar, because he didn’t actually ride bulls or drive tractors. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said.
And then he proceeded to pull Jenny tight against him and whirl her around the dance floor to a Luke Bryan song that made him long for another day on the lake and a cold beer.
For a few minutes he lost himself in the song, enjoying Jenny snug against him. Felt good to forget about the job, the fact he needed to repaint his garage apartment and the birthday party he had to attend for his cousin Hilda on Sunday. Let go and feel.
But the song ended too soon, and he found himself leading Jenny back toward the table. Clint and Vicky sat there, silently nursing their drinks. Eva was gone.
Jake picked up his beer and took a swig. “Where’s Eva?”
“Outside. Someone called and she said she had to go out for a sec,” Clint said.
Jake crooked an eyebrow. “Who was it?”
“How would we know? But she looked kind of surprised,” Vicky said.
He sank back into his chair, glancing toward the swinging glass door that Raylan had covered with inky tint. The name Ray-Ray’s was scrawled across the front, and the parking lot light looked like the glowing tip of a cigarette through the darkened glass. “Huh.”
Wasn’t his business, but still something rose on the back of his neck. Eva going off to meet someone wasn’t his concern. She was a big girl who could handle any man, a roaring fire and a passel of second graders wanting to scale the fire truck. Nevertheless, he was her friend. Hell, he was almost her family.
“I’m gonna check on her,” he said, standing.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Vicky said with a wave of her long-tipped fingernails. “Eva could handle anyone.”
“Let me just take her the beer,” he said, grabbing the frosty longneck and a napkin.
As he got up and left he heard Jenny say, “I love a man who looks out for a gal, but Eva hates nosy people.”
Jake passed his brother’s group, giving Matt a brusque “hey, dude,” as he continued toward the door. He pushed out into the dying day, twilight settling around him as he crunched through the gravel, looking for Eva. Cigarette butts and bottle caps littered the long concrete pad in front of the cinder-block bar. No one was in the front lot so he headed to the right, skirting the empty ice machine and weathered benches set out for the smokers. He heard raised voices as he rounded the corner.
Eva stood, arms on her hips, facing off against a pretty massive dude whose back was to Jake.
“Eva?” he called.
She leaned around the dude, her ponytail swinging out. “Oh, hey, Jake. I’ll be in in a minute.”
The guy turned and took in Jake. He had massive biceps, both tatted, and a tight T-shirt that stretched across the continent of his chest. He had a shaved head and wore motorcycle boots. Sons of Anarchy had nothing on this dude.
“You sure, Eva?”
The dude sneered. “You hard of hearing or something?”
“No. Got a clean bill of health from the doctor last month. Hearing’s perfect.”
“Then get your ass outta here,” the giant growled.
“Did someone piss in your cereal this morning or something?” Jake responded, moving toward Eva and King Kong. He shifted the beer bottles so he held them in one hand.
“It’s okay, Jake. Chris is about to leave. No big deal.” Eva gave him a determined smile and a look that said “please don’t do this.”
Jake didn’t know what to do. He could tell Eva was upset, but he didn’t want to make things worse for her. He also didn’t want to back down like a pussy. Jake wasn’t chopped liver, but the guy had a good four inches and forty pounds on him—he would likely grind Jake into hamburger meat. But at least his attention on Jake would give Eva a chance to get help.
“I’ll just stay here,” Jake said, leaning up against the steel siding replete with rust marks.
The giant’s thunderous expression told Jake his declaration wasn’t appreciated, but the man stayed where he was.
“Chris.” Eva placed a hand on the man’s arm. “Let’s just talk about this later, okay? Nothing has to be decided today.”
Chris grunted. “Things have to be settled by Monday. That’s the court date. And I leave next Wednesday.” With that remark, he picked up the motorcycle helmet sitting on the hood of Eva’s Jeep and tucked it under his arm before turning toward Jake. “This guy need his ass whipped before I go?”
Eva managed a smile. “Nah, that’s just Jake.”
“If he bothers you, let me know. I could use some fertilizer for my roses.”
Jake had no idea what was going on, but he was tired of the subterfuge. Looking at Eva, he said, “Who is this asshole?”
Chris growled and took a menacing step toward Jake.
Eva jumped in front of Chris, punching the beast on his arm. “This is Chris, my older half brother.”
“This is Chris?”
Eva nodded. Chris bared his teeth. Jake started laughing.
“This is the guy who developed the prize-winning hybrid teacup roses? The horticulture guy?” Jake asked, relaxing a little.
Chris crossed his arms. “You know, I get tired of this shit. What did you expect? Some skinny dude slumped over in a lab coat, looking at you through Coke-bottle glasses. What? A botanist can’t have tats?”
“No, you just surprised me. The way Eva talks about you, I just expected—”
“A pansy?” Chris said, a slight twinkle in his eye even though he still looked annoyed.
Jake pulled himself from the wall and walked toward Chris. He handed Eva her beer and extended his hand. “I’m Jake Beauchamp. I stand shoulder to shoulder with Eva every day.”
“Not really,” Eva said, her tone slightly peevish, but Jake knew what she meant. It was rare the captain sent Eva into an assault first. It was a hard thing, being a female firefighter. Most of the men in their unit had been brought up with the notion of carrying packages or opening doors for the fairer sex. Times were a-changing, but the very nature of the men in Magnolia Bend had a lot of catching up to do. Most still said yes, ma’am,and some thought a woman’s place was either in the home or in traditional female-dominated jobs like being a teacher or nurse.
“But we do work together.”
Chris took his hand and delivered a bone-crushing handshake. “I’d say it was good to meet you, but you’ve already pissed me off.”
“Oh, come on.” Eva punched him in the biceps again. “Be a sport. No one expects a guy like you to dote on dahlias.”
Chris managed a grin that nearly cracked his face. Like the Tin Man, he probably needed some oil. “Dahlias are my weakness. Okay, what the hell. Bygones and all that.”
Jake pulled his hand back and tried not to wince at the throbbing pain that the man’s handshake had induced. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
Chris jerked his head toward the bike. “Gotta run. Guys are waiting.”
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Eva said, lifting on her tiptoes. Chris bent down so she could buss his granite jaw with a kiss.
Then with a slap on her ass, Chris straddled his hog and fired it up. “Later.”
Both Jake and Eva turned and watched him roll out.
“What was that all about?” Jake asked, turning toward his friend.
“Just stuff,” Eva said with a shrug of her shoulders, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. She used her fake happy voice. Something was wrong, but she wasn’t the type to lay her cards on the table. He’d find out...eventually.
“Worried me for a moment. Looked intense.”
Eva made a face. “Jeez, Jake, you think you have to save the world, don’t you? I’m not some weak female who needs the tough Jake Beauchamp rescuing her.”
“I know. And I don’t treat you that way. You know that. But you’d do the same for me.”
She tilted her head and it made her look cute. Like a teenager. He liked when she did that. “I don’t interfere with you and what you do in a parking lot anymore. Remember?”
Jake laughed. “It was a bucket list thing.”
“Twins?”
He wasn’t going to admit they’d just been goofing off and not really having a three-way. He’d become legendary after Eva and Monk Lewis had caught him with the Bertrand twins messing around in the back of his pickup truck. Okay, so the twins had stripped down to their underwear and they’d all been a little drunk. The whole thing had ended there, and he’d never even scored with either one of them that night...but Eva didn’t know that. “It’s every guy’s fantasy.”
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“But you love me anyway,” he said, slinging an arm around her neck and tugging her into a noogie.
“Stop, Jake, you’re messing up my hair,” she shrieked, elbowing him in the ribs, trying to keep hold of her beer.
He let her go, grinning at her. Her slick-backed hair stuck up in big mounds. “Looks better.”
She tugged the rubber band from her hair, and thick brown locks tumbled around her shoulders. “Now look what you did. I don’t have a brush with me.”
Her hair had honey highlights that caught in the parking lot lights. She looked pretty with her hair down, softer and more like a woman. “I like it like that. You should wear it down more often.”
Eva’s lips turned down. “Gets in the way.”
“But it makes you look pretty. Keep it down. You’ll have a better chance of getting lucky tonight.” Even as he said the words, he wanted to reach out and snatch them back. Eva was his friend, but even so, he didn’t like the idea of her with another guy. Which was stupid.
She snorted. “With who? Do you ever look past the bimbos in Ray-Ray’s? It ain’t exactly brimming with available guys...who have all their teeth.”
“Then why are you here?”
Eva started toward the entrance. “Because I’m tired of watching reruns. Nothing on TV and Jenny wanted to get out. She’s on the rebound. The banker broke up with her.”
Jake rubbed his hands together. “Perfect.”
Eva turned around and pressed a hand into his chest. “Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you can be a nice guy, right? Dance with her. Buy her drinks. But don’t prey on her, Jake.”
Something in her tone punched him in the solar plexus. “That’s what you think of me? Jesus, Eva, I don’t screw everything in a skirt.”
“No, you screw everything in a skirt, pants and shorts. I’ve been around you for a few years. I know you.” That tone again. Eva thought he was nothing more than a gigolo, spreading himself around town. But he wasn’t. Well, not really. He’d never sleep with someone who couldn’t go toe-to-toe with him.
For the first time in forever, he felt embarrassed about the way he lived his life. At the hands of Eva. She never made him feel lacking. Eva was always on his side.
Her censure surprised him.
“Maybe you don’t really know me,” he said, his words soft as the night descending around them. Eva’s face glowed in the light cast from above them. She looked so different with her hair down that he wanted to touch her.
Which freaked him the hell out.
This was Eva, his best bud. The person who complained about him using all the toothpaste and eating all the yogurt. The woman who left a nest of hair in the drain and beat him at Scrabble every single time they played at the station. This was the one woman he’d never let himself have the slightest attraction for.
So, yeah, freaked out.
Eva bit her bottom lip, and Jake found himself really looking at her lips for the first time. They were perfectly proportioned—not too big, but not thin. Pretty lips covered in a creamy lipstick the color of plums.
Weird.
“I’m not trying to be mean, Jake. You know I love ya, dude, but just give Jenny some space. She’d go home with you tonight, but she doesn’t need that right now. You know?”
“I wasn’t planning on taking her home. I was joking when I rubbed my hands together. You know what a joke is, right?” He sounded petulant. Like a kid who’d asked for dessert and got a big fat no.
Eva smiled then. A strained smile but a smile. “Sure, Jake. I’m acquainted with jokes. Just last week there was that snake in my bed. Ha-ha.”
“That snake was cute. Admit it,” he said.
“Only you would think a snake was cute.” She opened the door and slid inside Ray-Ray’s, leaving him outside contemplating the odd dynamics that had just occurred between them. Or maybe it wasn’t between them. Maybe it was him.
Something he couldn’t explain had ricocheted out of nowhere and popped him right in the face.
And he didn’t like it.
He wanted a take-back because he didn’t want to see Eva as anything other than what he’d always seen her as—his bud. Sure, he knew she was attractive. He hadn’t missed that. Pretty obvious. But from day one, he had shifted her into a sort of “family” slot.
But something had happened just a minute ago.
No. It was just a trick of the light or something—it had to be. Nothing had changed. Eva was Eva. And he was the same as he’d always been.
Mostly.
So he felt itchy in his skin and maybe dissatisfied with his life. That wasn’t new. He went through periods of melancholy...of dwelling on what if.
What if he’d gone to law school?
What if he hadn’t tried to avoid that deer?
What if Clint hadn’t ended up in a wheelchair?
What if Angela hadn’t died?
What if he didn’t live in this godforsaken town anymore?
Yeah, his life was a pile of what-ifs.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_bdd5e086-ba7c-53b0-8d6a-870b1da8204c)
EVA HANDED THE stack of trendy jeans to Fancy Beauchamp. “Here, Mrs. Beauchamp. These go on that table up front.”
Frances “Fancy” Beauchamp was the chairman of the Ladies Auxiliary Annual Rummage Sale to benefit the local women’s shelter. She had hair the color of rhubarb, a smile as wide as her son Jake’s and plenty of pluck to temper her image as the perfect pastor’s wife. “Thank you, darlin’,” she said, taking the jeans. “And if you keep calling me Mrs. Beauchamp, I’m going to go lookin’ for my mother-in-law. We don’t need that battle-ax around today.”
Eva reached deeper into the last black garbage bag councilwoman Hilda Brunet had dropped off at the church and pulled out a pair of heels she was certain cost the same as her new flat-screen TV. “Don’t let Jake hear you call his MeeMaw a battle-ax.”
“Ooooh,” Fancy said, forgetting about MeeMaw Mollie and snatching the shoes from Eva’s hand. She snuck a peek inside the shoe. “Manolo. I might buy these myself.”
“They look like they’d hurt your feet.”
Fancy laughed. “Well, honey, sometimes we must suffer to look a little taller and thinner. I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”
“You’re a preacher’s wife. Aren’t you supposed to be above lust?”
“I’m pretty sure Paul didn’t know the relationship between women and shoes when he talked about the sins of the flesh,” Fancy joked. Then she twisted her lips. “I’m teasing, you know. I don’t have to have Manolo shoes. I’m content with what I have. But they would look great with my black skirt and the sequined sweater I bought on sale at Chico’s.”
“Well, if they match, you should go for it. It is, after all, for charity.”
“Right!” Fancy snapped her fingers before giggling. “I knew you’d validate me, Eva.”
Eva smiled at Jake’s mom. Like her son, she kept things light and fun. Always joking, cajoling, fattening people up with her “special” recipes, which was code for “a lot of butter.” Fancy was the mother Eva never had.
“That’s me. Validator.”
Fancy motioned toward her daughter, Abigail. “Hey, Abi. Eva wants to be called Eva the Validator.”
Abigail pushed back dark hair with the cool swoosh of silver. Eva always thought Abigail looked dramatic...and a little like Cruella de Vil. “Why? Is she in charge of validating parking or something? I thought it was free.”
Fancy giggled at her joke. “No, she just validated my purchase of your cousin’s shoes. Look.”
She held them aloft and Abigail rolled her eyes. “Mom, you’ll break an ankle in those. I’m not ready to change your diaper yet.”
Fancy frowned. “As if I’d let you change my diaper. Jakey will take care of me, won’t you, honey?”
Jake had been walking by, carrying a large box filled with kitchen items. “Whatever you need, Mama.”
“See?” Fancy said to Abigail, propping a hand on her hip.
“She wants you to change her diaper,” Abigail called after him.
“I’m out,” Jake said.
“Wait a minute, I changed your diaper until you were nearly three. You owe me, buster.”
Jake set the box down and grinned, “I’ll get married and put that in the prenup. My wife will have to give me foot massages and learn how to make good cornbread, throw a baitcast reel and change my mother’s diaper.”
Abigail snorted. “Good luck with that, Neanderthal.”
Eva chuckled, happy to be with Jake’s family. They were so normal, and they loved each other so much that the goodness spilled over and splashed onto those around them. Eva had never had that sort of family life, and ever since she’d moved to Magnolia Bend it was something she’d lusted after. Should have made her pathetic—her accepting any opportunity to be part of their family—but she couldn’t help herself. The Beauchamps were just plain fun.
“Can you believe this, Eva? My own children pawning me off on some poor unseen, unknown woman. God help the girl who marries Jake. He’s always been difficult. You know, when he was a baby, he refused to crawl because he didn’t like the way the carpet felt on his knees. And he spit out his peas...and squash. Still won’t touch green peas. And—”
“Mom, stop giving her ammunition,” Jake said, pulling a pot and toaster out of the box and setting them on the table. Abigail immediately sped over and started helping him, pointing to this table and that, brooking no argument. Abigail was the general of the family.
“She doesn’t need ammunition. She knows you,” Fancy said, setting the shoes aside.
Eva didn’t validate that particular observation because lately she wondered how well she really knew Jake. After Thursday night’s soft-spoken rebuke of her assessment of him, she had a feeling something had changed.
Or maybe deep down under the facade she presented to him—his bud, his comrade, the person who helped him pick out what to wear on dates—she wanted something to change.
But regardless, on a personal level for her, everything had changed. Mostly because she was about to become a mother.
To her six-year-old stepbrother.
That was why her half brother, Chris, had stopped by at Ray-Ray’s. Their stepmonster, the surviving widow of Eva’s father, had been arrested Wednesday night for possession, solicitation and child endangerment. The dumb-ass had left Charlie home alone overnight while she went out, got high and then got busted for prostitution. After Claren sobered up enough to remember she had a kid, the police went to her apartment and found Charlie with a neighbor, crying and wearing dirty clothes. CPS stepped in, placing him in a temporary foster home, after contacting Claren’s elderly parents in Ohio. Finally, a foster care worker called Chris, but because he was scheduled to spend a month in France doing research on some cross-pollination genetics thing with roses, he couldn’t step up to take Charlie. So that left...
Yeah.
She had to be in court at nine o’clock Monday morning when Claren appeared before the judge. But before that, the CPS agent would be coming to her house for an inspection and background check on Sunday so she could take temporary custody of Charlie.
Eva had no experience in taking care of a child, but what option did she have? She couldn’t leave her own flesh and blood with strangers, especially since poor Charlie had been saddled with a crazy-assed mother. Plenty of challenges lay ahead, including a schedule that wasn’t ideal for playing at being a substitute mother.
She felt totally lost.
She wanted to talk about it with someone other than Chris. Normally, she’d confide in Jake, but he didn’t know anything about being a parent, either. He bought his nephews and nieces totally inappropriate gifts like fireworks and giant chocolate candy bars. Fancy would be perfect to talk to, but Eva felt embarrassed about how craptastically screwed up her family was—she had two half brothers from two different mothers, not to mention her own mother had been married three times, too.
Monroes weren’t the luckiest when it came to love.
“I need to find my sweet husband and ask him a few questions about the schedule for tomorrow,” Fancy said, wadding up the black garbage bag and tossing it toward the trash barrel sitting on the perimeter of Burnside Hall. “Can you finish with this table?”
“Sure,” Eva said.
“Jake, come help Eva. I have to find Dan,” Fancy ordered, already heading toward the large double doors that led to the offices of the First Presbyterian Church of Magnolia Bend. Jake had been slumped against the wall, tapping on the phone. He looked up, his forehead crinkling.
“She said to go help Eva,” Abigail told him, returning her attention to tagging the kitchen items she’d commandeered from Jake.
Jake pocketed his phone and started toward Eva. He wore an old workout shirt that had a tear in one sleeve and a pair of athletic shorts that showed off his toned thighs, still tanned from summer days on the lake. He looked absolutely yummy...as usual.
“I don’t need help, so if you want you can go out and see if Matt needs some?” Eva said, rearranging the shoes on the rack below the table.
“Nah, it’s hot out there.” Jake grinned, picking up a pair of sensible flats. “Hey, Abi, I found you some new shoes. Think Mrs. Crofton donated these because they were too nerdy. Right up your alley.”
Abigail looked up and rolled her eyes. “I’m oblivious to your taunts. Plus Leif likes me barefoot.”
“I bet,” Jake drawled, making Abigail shoot daggers at him with her pretty green eyes. He turned back to Eva. “What do you want me to do?”
“Start putting these out,” Eva said, toeing a box of shoes his way.
Jake obeyed for a few seconds before reaching up to tug her ponytail. “So you’re back to wearing your hair up.”
“I told you, gets in the way otherwise,” she said, smacking his hand back.
“I like it down,” he said.
“You don’t get a say-so.”
He frowned. “I know what looks good.”
Eva laughed. “I’m aware of that particular talent, but I’m more interested in keeping it out of my eyes. And why do you care? You’ve never cared before.”
“I don’t,” he said, picking up some espadrilles and eyeing the ribbon ties. “These look uncomfortable.”
“Women don’t mind uncomfortable as long as it makes their legs look long and lifts their butt. You, of all men, ought to understand this.”
“They’d look incredible on you. You already have great legs,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Eva said, her stomach feeling hoppy at his words. He sounded almost flirty in the way Marshall Mitchell had flirted with her in the seventh grade. Your binder is girly. Can I touch your hair? Let’s just try kissing and see what it feels like.
“Nothing. Why? What’s wrong with you?”
Everything.
“Nothing. You’re just acting weird. Like flirting with me. You outta practice or something?” She snorted so he’d know she knew the idea was ludicrous.
“Why wouldn’t I flirt with you? According to you, I sleep with every woman who has a pair of tits and no ring on her finger. You fit the criteria. Especially the tits part.” His eyes slid to her boobs, making something hot slither down her spine.
What the hell?
Jake had never—
She put the kibosh on that notion. Jake wasn’t into her. He’d never commented on her being a woman, beyond a little teasing here or there. As usual he was being outrageous, totally irreverent. Just Jake.
But his comment made her realize she’d hurt his feelings last night when she’d told him to lay off Jenny. “And here I was thinking the ring thing didn’t matter.”
His head jerked up, outrage in his eyes. “You know I don’t mess with married women.”
“I’m joking. You know what a joke is, right?” she said with a smart-ass smile, repeating the same phrase he’d used last night. “I’ve heard of honor among thieves. Is there honor among man whores, too?”
Jake threw a wadded-up nylon knee-high at her.
“Gross,” Eva shrieked, pushing away the object he’d pulled out of the espadrille.
“You know I’m sensitive about being a man whore,” he cracked, his blue eyes dancing, white teeth flashing.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of a laughing, sexy Jake. God Almighty, the man was gorgeous with that brown hair that glinted red in the sunlight, strong jaw and hands she’d fork over her next paycheck just to have run over her naked shoulders and down her back. Eva swallowed, blocking out the irrational desire for a man who was her friend.
Friend.
“Well, you don’t have to throw someone’s nasty old knee-high at me. I’ll try to remember you’re sensitive about spreading yourself around.”
“Spreading myself around?” Jake parroted, withdrawing the other wadded-up hosiery from the toe of the other shoe. “Do you want to rephrase that?”
Eva took a few steps back. “Don’t you dare.”
Jake flashed an evil grin that was also sexy as hell. “Oh, I dare.”
Eva scrambled backward, nearly tripping over a stroller. “Don’t you do it. Jake!”
Jake lunged for her, and Eva sidestepped, scrambling behind another table displaying candle holders and ashtrays. He dangled the stocking that was stained black at the toes. “I think this would look nice on you, Eva.”
“You two cut it out,” Abigail yelled. “We’ve got lots to do.”
“You heard your sister,” Eva warned, shifting left and right as Jake swung the offending thing her way.
“Since when do I listen to her?” he said, lurching around.
Squealing, Eva ran toward the emergency exit door. “Stop, Jake!”
He ran behind her, laughing like a lunatic.
Eva slammed out the door and tried to push it closed on him. The metal door was hot from the sun beating down on it, scorching Eva’s hands. She jerked back and Jake barreled out, catching her around the waist, pushing the hosiery toward her face.
Eva wiggled against him, pulling at his arm locked around her. “Don’t you dare, Jake Beauchamp.”
He laughed against her, his breath warm near her cheek. She sank down, trying to wriggle away, which caused Jake’s arm to move up and his hand to cradle her left breast.
They both froze.
A second ticked by. Then another.
He let go, and Eva stumbled away, feeling the heat scorch her cheeks while at the same time acknowledging how good his touch had felt.
If only...
She spun around, her eyes meeting his. He’d lowered the stupid stocking, laughter gone, an odd look on his face.
Her gaze met his, and she saw in those fiery blue eyes something she’d never seen before.
Swallowing, she shrugged. Because she couldn’t think of anything better to do in an awkward moment such as this. Painfully awkward.
So Jake had grabbed her boob. It was an accident, a by-product of him acting like a silly little boy. No big deal.
Jake gave a small chuckle. “Oops.”
“Yeah,” she said, dropping her gaze. “My fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. I was the one who grabbed you.”
Eva wanted to forget it. Pretend it hadn’t happened, so she looked at the forgotten knee-high in his hand. “If I slide by you, do you promise not to put that on me?”
He looked down at the stocking and then back up with a twinkle in his eye. “Why don’t you try and see?”
Eva gave him a flat look. “Please. Like I trust you.”
He merely smiled, his gaze actually dropping to her lips. She resisted the urge to lick them. And then this weird thing happened.
She’d been in some dangerous situations, heated situations that caused frissons of alarm to raise the hair on her neck.
This was how she felt now. Crazy electrical.
Eva moved forward slowly, placing her hand on the door handle, her eyes on Jake as she inched very, very slowly past him. He didn’t move, but his gaze held hers, mischievousness fading as something hot took over.
Something Eva had wanted for a long time...ever since Jake had come out of the shower at the station, towel looped around his lean hips, droplets of water dotting his chest, the first week she’d worked for the Magnolia Bend FD.
Carefully, she started inching the door open. She’d put about five inches between the metal door and frame when Jake leaned back on the door, slamming it shut.
“Don’t,” she said, narrowing her eyes as he turned his right shoulder in, blocking her escape, lifting the hosiery.
He grinned and then tossed the stocking over his shoulder.
She gave a nervous laugh.
And then he moved, slamming into her. Not hard. But emphatic.
Her brain received the signals, processing the sexual energy slaking off Jake. He reached up, his hand brushing her ear. He was going to kiss her. Finally.
So Eva made it easy for him. She raised onto her toes, closed her eyes and met him halfway.
Her first thought was he tasted like spearmint gum. Her second thought was to wonder why he tugged at her hair. Her third thought was oh, shit.
Because Jake hadn’t been about to kiss her...he’d been about to give her a trademark noogie.
But being Jake, he didn’t gasp in outrage, ripping her from him.
No.
Jake Beauchamp would never embarrass a lady like that. He dropped his hand and made his lips soft.
Eva dropped down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, half of her reveling in the small taste of the man she loved. The other half of her praying the earth would open beneath her feet and swallow her whole.
Surely that could happen, right?
Surely God would have pity on a fool who’d mistakenly kissed the devil out of a man against the wall of the First Presbyterian Church of Magnolia Bend...when he’d only been about to give her a noogie.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_4fab96ff-3a22-5bec-b77e-6a2272f71ca3)
JAKE ENTERED THE Tenth Annual Rummage Sale to benefit the Magnolia Bend Women’s Home like a man hunted. Not because he didn’t want to be there supporting his mama and her pet project early on a Saturday morning, but because after yesterday afternoon’s incident with Eva, he didn’t want to face the discomfort he knew would be between them.
Eva had kissed him.
And though at first he’d been shocked to the toes of his Brooks running shoes, he’d settled into it and enjoyed all one point seven seconds of the kiss.
But then Eva had stopped kissing him, wiping her mouth and looking horrified.
As though she’d walked into junior high naked.
Plain appalled.
He’d stepped back and arched an eyebrow and simply said, “Wow.”
She’d looked as if she might choke, her face flooding with color, her eyes bulging, hands fluttering at her side. She’d managed an “excuse me” before bolting through the door he’d shut, leaving him behind not knowing how to handle what had just happened.
“Hey, Jake,” his brother Matt called, waving from behind the tables set up with cash registers donated by Maggio’s Office Supply store, according to the sign that said as much. “I need more of this paper tape. Can you grab Ma and see where she put the supplies?”
Jake waved a hand in affirmation, scanning the crowded hall filled with racks of coats, tables of folded jeans and shelves holding knickknacks. He saw his sister and her fiancé, Leif, his niece Birdie, who was walking around selling raffle tickets for a quilt stitched by his aunt Opal, and his brother John’s wife, Shelby, who was hand-selling some strappy shoes to Merlene Dibbles, who had no business wearing anything strappy. His father swilled coffee at the refreshment table with several other men, shooting the breeze, no doubt discussing the likelihood of St. George’s football team making the playoffs again. But he didn’t see his mother.
And he didn’t see Eva.
Maybe she hadn’t come. She hadn’t answered any texts or phone calls he made from Ray-Ray’s last night. Which meant she was avoiding him. Which meant the ball was in his court. And he didn’t know how to handle this situation other than to get it out in the open and talk about it. Wasn’t going to go away. And since their shift started Monday at five o’clock in the evening, they couldn’t continue avoiding it.
He looked at Matt, who’d just finished checking out several ladies carrying totes provided by First Magnolia Bank. “Hey, where’s Mom?”
Matt didn’t look up. “Dunno. If I did, I wouldn’t need you to get me the paper.”
“Right.” Jake made his way down the housewares aisle, smiling at people he’d known forever plus a day, almost colliding with a cute three-year-old escapee who was making for the toy section with the harried mother following behind. He finally made it to his dad.
“And that’s why we’ll struggle on offense. Gary’s got to get that o-line beefed up. Feed those boys,” Dan Beauchamp said before slapping him on the back. “Right, son?”
“Uh, right. Hey, where’s Mom?”
His dad shrugged. “Saw her head to the kitchen with Eva.”
Dread pinged inside Jake. He knew what he had to do, but he liked talking about emotions just as much as every other man liked talking about emotions...which meant not at all.
Thing was he’d liked kissing Eva, and that was bad news. From the very beginning, when he’d found out that the chief had hired a woman in order to diversify the department, he’d vowed to leave her the hell alone. Every man knew you didn’t shit where you ate. Or whatever that saying was. So before he’d even met Eva, he’d vowed to not go there. When all the other guys hemmed and hawed about sharing a shift with her, he’d stepped up. Hell, he liked the idea of having someone different to shoot the shit with. Moon wore him out with talk of hunting everything that moved, and Martin wanted to play dominos nonstop. He figured having a woman around would be interesting. And Jake liked interesting.
But then Eva had walked into the station with her dark hair braided, face free of makeup, a confident smile in place, and he’d felt shell-shocked. This wasn’t the way a firefighter should look, so...so pretty. Wasn’t as if she was delicate or girly, either. Quite the contrary, Eva was athletic, fit, full of vitality. Her squared jaw gave her a sexiness he wasn’t supposed to notice, and she looked mighty fine in the uniform that had been tucked in at a trim waist with the baggy pants failing to hide the rounded hips and tight ass. He’d been hit with full-on attraction.
So he’d shaken her hand, excused himself while the chief gave her the tour of the main station, went to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and had a little talk with himself. When he’d finally come out, to Moon joking about the burrito he’d eaten the night before, Jake had determined he’d treat Eva just like he treated Abigail. Treat her like a sister. Respect her, protect her and bug the hell out of her. And never, ever see her as anything but a friend. No ifs, ands or buts. Eva Monroe was off-limits.
But yesterday had changed everything.
Last night he’d been haunted by the way she’d felt against him, breasts to chest, pelvis to pelvis, lips to lips. It had felt so damn good it had shaken him to his core...and that was probably why he dreaded seeing Eva today. If it had really been nothing, it would be one thing, but she’d knocked down that careful wall of friendship he’d built years ago, and he could no longer pretend the attraction didn’t exist. Like the flip of a light switch, he’d gotten turned on to what kissing Eva was like. And that was very dangerous. He felt off-kilter, as if he might do something crazy. Like kiss her again.
He pushed through the swinging door into the huge stainless-steel kitchen, where they prepared the monthly Feed Our Neighbors dinner. His mother and Eva were deep in conversation.
Fancy’s head jerked up. “Jake, glad you’re here. Take this receipt tape to Matt.”
Eva didn’t look at him. Instead, she fiddled with her fingernails, picking at her cuticles. Probably meant she was avoiding him or uncomfortable.
Duh.
“Sure. That’s actually what I came for,” he said, deftly catching the roll of paper his mother tossed to him. “Morning, Eva.”
“Morning,” she said, not lifting her gaze.
He stood there for a minute, and his mom gave him a puzzled look.
“Hey, E, when you have a sec, I wanted to talk to you,” he said. They couldn’t go on like this. They’d have to talk about it. Put it behind them so they could go back to the way they were before. Just f-r-i-e-n-d-s.
He had no clue why he’d spelled it out in his thoughts, but then again, he had no idea how he was going to see Eva as his sister ever again.
“Sure,” she said, still not meeting his gaze.
And that’s when Fancy caught on to the discomfort. She looked from him back to Eva and then back to him, lifting an eyebrow. Jake tried to warn her with his eyes, but she plunged in anyway. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” they both said in unison.
“Huh,” Fancy said, her eyes narrowing. “Well, none of my business anyway.”
Which was code for “I’ll rake you over the coals later, Jakey.” His mother didn’t like being out of the loop. Her job was to manage the lives of her children, leaning heavily at times, backing off at others. She danced the Mom dance rather well.
“That’s right,” Jake said, giving her the nod. The one that said, “Don’t bother. I won’t give up my secrets.”
Fancy just smiled. “I’ll see you later, Jakey.”
Jake sighed and melted out the door, back into the chaos of the rummage sale. The buzz of conversation had elevated to a dull roar in the acoustically challenged community hall. Jake ducked around a gaggle of women arguing over which purse would be the right size for the LSU home opener that weekend and ran right into his brother John.
“Here, hold her,” his brother said, shoving Jake’s five-month-old niece into his arms. Lindsay cooed and gave him a toothless, drooly grin. “I gotta pi...uh, go to the bathroom.”
“Wait—” Jake said, tucking the receipt tape under his arm and shifting the baby to his left arm.
Lindsay smacked him in the face with a wet hand, and John disappeared behind the women, heading toward the lobby and the restrooms located there. The baby hit him again.
“Hey, Linds. Don’t go abusing your ol’ uncle Jake,” he said, smiling at the baby who had blond wisps sticking out all over her head and blue-green eyes that crinkled when she laughed at him. “Oh, you think that’s funny?”
He tickled her little round belly, making her squeal.
“Well, if that don’t melt an old woman’s heart,” someone said to his right. He turned to find Carla Stanton standing there.
“Mrs. Stanton. How you doin’ this fine morning?” he asked, trying to avoid Lindsay’s fingers creeping into his mouth.
“Pretty good. Still getting over a headache. My blood pressure was out of whack,” she said, her eyes not on him but instead riveted to the baby he held. “That’s John’s baby, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said, juggling the baby, who stared at Carla with wide eyes before squealing again as if she had something to say to the older woman.
Carla was John’s late wife’s mother, who had given John and Shelby a lot of grief when they’d first gotten together last fall. Bitter with pain over the death of her only child, she’d held on tight to the idea John couldn’t...wouldn’t be happy if her daughter couldn’t be happy. Hadn’t mattered that Rebecca was dead. But Shelby, Jake’s vivacious, generous new sister-in-law, had taken the high road, insisting they name their daughter in remembrance of the woman who John had loved and lost. Lindsay Rebecca Beauchamp was radiantly untouched by the pettiness of adults and turned all her adorableness on the older woman who’d nearly ruined her mother’s life.
Carla watched the baby, a small smile on her lips. “She’s a pretty baby.”
“Yeah, she is. Takes after her uncle Jake, of course,” Jake said, making a face at Lindsay. “Don’t you?”
The baby smacked him again and laughed. Carla’s smile grew.
“Here, you want to hold her?” he asked, shoving Lindsay at the woman. Her hands came up to hold the little girl, likely out of self-preservation.
“Oh, no, I shouldn’t—” she started just as he withdrew his hands from around his niece.
The baby stared at Carla for a few seconds before babbling something.
“Oh, really?” the older woman said to the baby, smiling and nodding her head. “I didn’t know.”
Jake scanned the room and saw Shelby watching them. She caught his eye and smiled, a sort of secret knowing in her eyes.
“I’m gonna hand off this tape to Matt and I’ll be right back. You got her?” he asked.
“Of course I have Lindsay Rebecca. We’re already old friends, and I certainly know how to take care of a sweet baby girl,” Carla said, catching the hand the baby lifted to smack her and giving it a kiss.
So she knew the baby’s name? Huh.
Jake hustled over to his brother, who had started beckoning him frantically. A line had formed and he looked harried. Jake tossed him the roll of tape, which he deftly caught. Matt was the athlete of the family. Though both Jake and John had been fairly proficient, Matt had been the star, netting a scholarship to play at Tulane. He might have gone pro as a tight end if he hadn’t blown out one of his knees.
“Thanks,” Matt called.
“No problem,” Jake said, turning back so he could take his niece from Carla. But John had already arrived and stood in conversation with his former mother-in-law. So Jake turned, intending to hunt Eva down, but Fancy appeared at his side like a specter from long ago.
Woo woo woo woooo. Woo, woo, woo, woooo. The Twilight Zone theme song played in his mind.
“So what’s going on with you and Eva? That was weird back there,” his mother said.
“Jesus, Mom, you couldn’t wait until—” he glanced down at the watch that wasn’t on his arm, since he didn’t like to wear a watch like most guys “—seven minutes had passed? They should use you down at the police department. I’ll talk to Uncle Sam about putting you on the force.”
She pinched him under the arm, the way she used to years ago in the second pew to the right of the pulpit.
“Ow.” He twisted away.
“Don’t forget I’m your mother. And that when you call on Jesus it better be for something important and not in vain, Jacob Edward.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with only 10 percent sarcasm. “But I’m pretty sure Jesus understands. He had a mother, too.”
That made Fancy smile. His mother could be awfully bloodthirsty for a preacher’s wife. “Even so, you know that your behavior—”
“Doesn’t reflect on you or Dad. I’m my own person,” he said, knowing he probably sounded like a petulant child. What was it about mothers that did that to a guy?
He knew what people around town said about him—that rascal Jake’s the family rebel. He drinks, whores and avoids church. Real degenerate. He didn’t mind that version of himself. No, because that version prevented people seeing through him to the pitiful coward beneath the bullshit.
He couldn’t pretend to be the tortured hero, because he hadn’t been a hero on that lonely stretch of highway, in the twisted wreckage beneath that huge harvest moon. He’d lain in his friends’ blood, crying like a baby. He hadn’t been able to help Clint...hadn’t been able to save Angela. In fact, his weak attempts to tug Clint from where he lay had done more damage than good.
Jake Beauchamp...coward.
So he covered it up with being a degenerate. He knew he was the perfect head case for a shrink, but he didn’t care enough to change. Because changing meant he’d have to remember, have to dig the knife beneath the skin to clear all the gunk. Change meant hurting again.
“I know who you are, honey, and neither your father nor I have tried to change you. Your behavior, however, is never off the table.”
He nodded because she was right. Neither of his parents rode his case like they could.
His mother patted him. “Just remember you’re in your father’s house.”
“God?”
“No, Dan’s. Well, you know what I mean. Now, what’s going on between you and Eva? Because I gotta tell you, Jake, I think she’s really going to need some support in these upcoming months.”
A thread of alarm cinched his heart. “Why? What’s wrong with Eva? Is she sick?”
“Of course not. She’s healthy as a horse, but that’s exactly my point—you don’t know what’s going on in her life, and that’s abnormal.”
“Wait, what’s going on in—” Jake left off the rest because the good town doctor, Jamison French, had stopped right in front of them.
“Morning, Jake. Mrs. Beauchamp,” Jamison said, giving them both his best bedside smile.
“What’s up, James?” Jake asked, extending a hand and giving the man a good firm Beauchamp handshake.
“Good morning, Jamison, and it’s just Fancy,” his mother said.
“Of course. Well, looks like a good turnout,” Jamison said, making polite conversation the way any decent human being would.
So it wasn’t that Jake didn’t like Jamison. He liked him fine. It was just that Jamison was the Cary Grant to Jake’s James Dean. They were both single, good-looking guys in their thirties with all their teeth. No baggage, from good families with a decent income. And the target on their backs in Magnolia Bend had been fixed. The thing that made him twitch was the fact that Jamison was the better of the two, with his perfectly combed blond hair and artsy-fartsy hipster glasses framing sparkling blue eyes brimming with wit and goodness. In contrast, Jake crushed beer cans, peed in the woods and wore old frat T-shirts.
“It is a good turnout.” Fancy nodded, a pleased smile curving her lips.
“By chance have either of you seen Eva?” Jamison asked.
“Eva? What the hell do you want with her?” Jake snarled, puffing up his chest, hands curling into fists. He spit at Jamison’s feet and bared his teeth.
Okay, so he didn’t actually do either of those things...but he thought about it. After all, Jamison Fancy Pants had no business asking after his Eva.
Correction. Just Eva.
“She was in the kitchen,” Fancy said, pointing over her shoulder, her eyes holding a question.
“Great. I’m picking her up for the Zydeco Festival over in Garden City. Buckskin Nash is performing at noon, so...” Jamison looked at his watch. He actually had one. Nice Swiss Army stainless steel, with all those gauges divers needed. Figured.
“Here I am, Jamison,” Eva said, from behind Jake. They all turned toward her, and Jake noticed for the first time how pretty Eva looked. She’d worn her hair in a ponytail and had put on makeup...or at least shiny lip gloss that made her lips kissable. She wore a strapless short romper thing, which looked too sexy to be wasted on Jamison. “You ready?”
“I thought you wanted to talk,” Jake said.
Eva finally met his gaze. Her eyes looked defiant, almost angry. “You were the one who wanted to talk. I have a date, so you’ll have to wait until later.”
Jake frowned...something he rarely did. “Fine.”
Eva lifted a bronzed shoulder that also looked kissable. Wasn’t as shiny as her lips. Just luminous. “Ready?”
Jamison smiled and damn him, his eyes moved down Eva’s body. If the man had had a mustache, he might have twirled it. “Absolutely.”
Jake clenched his fist and turned away. What the hell did he care who Eva dated? She’d dated at least three dudes since she’d moved to Magnolia Bend, and he’d not blinked one eye. Of course, that had been before she’d kissed him, chiseling a brick out of the wall of indifference he’d built between him and her obvious charms.
“See you around, Jake,” Jamison said, using his manners.
Jake grunted.
“Bye, honey, have fun,” Fancy said, giving Eva a motherly smile. “We’ll talk later. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Eva looked at his mother with a grateful smile and followed Jamison out of the hall. She hadn’t even told him goodbye. Had treated him as if he didn’t matter, as if he hadn’t even been worth the kiss she’d given him yesterday.
“Where are you going, Jake?” Fancy called as he stalked off.
“To the bathroom,” Jake said, not needing to go to the bathroom but wanting to find a place where no one would talk to him or meet his eyes. He didn’t want the confusion to show, and the urinal worked as well as any place.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_d6a39392-5e7b-5514-98d0-57d7d6fb184f)
EVA TAPPED HER toe to the music and sipped the ice-cold beer Jamison had bought for her. The band on stage was decent, and the sun had finally retreated behind a cloud, giving them all some relief. Listening to zydeco was fun...when it wasn’t ninety-two degrees and you were sitting beneath a shady tree. Garden City hadn’t planned for the heat, which was stupid because they were holding a festival in September. That equaled scorcher on the scale of Louisiana weather.
“You okay?” Jamison asked for the third time in an hour. He looked crisp and cool. She had no idea how, because he wore linen pants.
“Fine,” she said, taking another sip and fanning herself. “I’m having a good time.
“Good,” he said with a smile, raising his arms and clapping along as Beebo Nash cranked up a solo on the accordion. The ocean-blue polo Jamison wore rode up on his toned biceps and revealed a trim stomach peeking out above his pants. “I’ve been dying to take you out for a while. I’m so glad you said yes this time, Eva.”
“Yeah, well, I’m stubborn that way. Wanted to wait a couple of months to date after I ended my last relationship.”
Jamison slid his gaze toward her and grinned. “You have rules about dating, too?”
“No, not really. Just felt right to wait. Do you have rules for dating?” she asked, acknowledging with a wince the sun once again coming out from behind the clouds. Felt as if it was beating them down with the heat.
“Sort of. Having dating rules makes things easier for me,” he said with a smile, looking way too handsome.
Strange. Eva didn’t have real rules, just gut feelings. She sorta thought rules for dating were a bit too anal. “Like for first kisses, sex, what?”
“More like gifts, family, house keys. That sort of stuff,” he said, curving an arm around her waist, jerking her forward as a drunk guy stumbled their way. The weight of his hand felt good on her hip. Deep down even the most vehement feminist had to innately appreciate the protective instincts of a man. Or maybe it was just Eva who felt that way. She spent much of her time as one of the guys, subject to discussion on bodily functions and field-dressing a deer. Being treated like a woman felt nice every now and then.
“You okay?” Jamison asked yet again, concern etched on his handsome face.
“I think you’ve asked me that four times within the hour. Must be the whole doctor thing spilling over,” she said, pressing her hands against his chest.
His forehead crinkled, but he didn’t move his arm from around her waist. Instead, he grinned at her, his blue eyes growing almost smoky. “You know, you’re right. I say that a lot, but then again, I have to. Most women aren’t too comfortable with me. Hazard of the profession, and another reason I’m really glad you haven’t scurried away from me.”
“Maybe if I wore a paper gown?”
He snorted.
“Besides, you’re the pot of honey,” she teased.
He stared at her lips, and Eva prepared herself to be kissed, but Jamison must have decided against it. He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Honey?”
Eva tamped down the disappointment mixed with relief. She didn’t know if she wanted him to kiss her or not—or if she was insulted or not.
“Yeah, you’re a honey pot. Women swarm like bees around you.” She raised her voice into falsetto. “Dr. French, you’re so wonderful. Buzz, buzz, buzz.”
That made him laugh, and the man looked good laughing. His eyes crinkled behind the lens of his glasses, and his bright teeth flashed against his tan skin.
He said nothing more, merely turned his attention to the stage where a slim woman with dark hair, a lithe body and a helluva voice worked the microphone. The crowd cheered as the band shifted into a new song that showcased the singer’s raspy voice.
“She’s good,” Eva said.
“Yeah, that’s Morgan Cost.”
“No kidding! She was married to Jake’s sister’s ex-husband.”
“I didn’t know she married Cal,” Jamison said, clapping along to the song. “I mean I knew he ran off to California with her a few years back. Anyway, Morgan released a record last month, and it’s getting good airplay on country music stations. There was even an article in the Baton Rouge Advocate last week.”
“Huh,” Eva said, impressed by the woman’s voice but little else. Morgan had run off with Abigail Orgeron’s husband in the middle of a party they’d been throwing. Jake’s sister had been left with a daughter, a huge mortgage on a bed-and-breakfast and a scandal. In Eva’s eyes, Morgan would always have that black mark against her, no matter how talented she was.
She hadn’t known Jake back then, but he still got steamed when someone brought up the topic of Calhoun Orgeron. Eva didn’t like the man much, either, especially since he’d already hit on her at church earlier that year when he’d dragged his butt back to Magnolia Bend after Morgan had dumped him.
“Well, she’s definitely a good singer. I’ll give her that, I guess,” Eva said, joining Jamison on the clapping.
Hours later, after eating jambalaya, drinking another cold Abita beer and sharing a sno-ball with Jamison, who obviously didn’t mind swapping spit in that manner, Eva stepped onto the porch of the cute bungalow she’d bought in the Laurel Creek subdivision. Jamison trailed behind her, still giving off the breezy yacht-club vibe. The man’s pants weren’t even creased, and no sweat ringed the undersides of his shirtsleeves.
Eva pulled at the filmy material of her romper. The silly thing, bought in a moment of insanity, was plastered against her chest, advertising the wares a little too well. She found her house key and stuck it in the door. “Thanks for inviting me, Jamison. It was fun.”
“It was. I’m glad you went with me.”
“Would you like to come inside for a drink? Or to use the bathroom?”
Why had she asked that? Just because the beer had done a number on her didn’t mean he had to go to the bathroom, too. Jeez, she sucked at dating.
Jamison grinned. “You’re asking me in to pee?”
Eva never blushed, but she felt close to it in that moment. “Sorry, I know you have a bit of a drive home. That was stupid.”
“Nah, it was cute,” he said with another blinding smile. “I really should go, but I hope we can do this again.”
With Charlie about to come live with her, things felt uncertain in her life. But taking in her brother didn’t mean she had to quit being who she was. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Good. So maybe... Tuesday night? They’re showing Bringing Up Baby at the Grand. Want to share some popcorn with me?”
Eva shook her head. “I have some things going on early in the week, but maybe by Friday I can get away.”
“Well, that movie won’t be showing, but I bet we can find something to do,” he said. Any other guy would have made the last statement sound sexual, but not Jamison. He sincerely meant they’d find something to do. That thought almost made Eva giggle.
“That sounds great,” she said, twisting the key.
“It’s a date, then,” Jamison said, moving toward her.
Okay, so now he’d kiss her. She turned toward him, but he merely gave her a quick squeeze of her shoulders. “See ya then. Thanks.”
Then he was gone, moving quickly down the steps toward the new Mercedes he’d parked in her driveway.
Eva watched him before giving him a quick wave as he climbed inside the car.
Maybe Jamison was gay, but she didn’t think so. But what man turned away from a kiss—twice? She didn’t know many who would, but perhaps it was one of those rules for dating that he professed to have. Maybe kisses on the first date weren’t allowed no matter what. Or maybe he wasn’t into her. Maybe he was—
“Hey.”
Eva jumped, dropping her keys. “Jake, you scared me to death.”
Jake grinned like the devil he was. “You look alive to me...and I must say, damn nice in that short thing you’re wearing.”
Eva bent over to grab the keys she’d dropped, holding a hand to her bodice so the fabric didn’t gape and show her boobs to the man she’d always wanted to show her boobs to. “Um, thank you.”
“Guess ol’ Jamie didn’t appreciate it, huh? No good-night kiss.”
“It’s not night,” Eva said, twisting the doorknob and pushing into the blessed coolness of her house. She didn’t bother asking Jake to come in—she knew he’d do so anyway. The only thing she cared about was going to the bathroom.
He closed the door. “But it was a date, right?”
“I guess,” she said, dumping her cross-body purse onto the piano bench, setting her keys atop the instrument. “You want a beer?”
“I always want a beer,” he said, checking out the picture of Eva’s mother, which she’d hung above the flowery club chair in the living space. It had been taken when her mother had graduated high school and was the way Eva liked to remember her mother—as a laughing girl. Not as the emotional wreck she was now.
Eva pulled off her sandals and padded barefoot through her small kitchen and into the bathroom, which she made quick use of. She then pulled two beers from the fridge, popped the tops and walked back to the living room, sinking onto the couch. “How was the sale?”
“What?”
“The rummage sale. Did they raise a lot of money?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” He walked over and grabbed the beer she held out before dropping onto the couch beside her.
Eva didn’t want him to sit next to her. Any other time it would have been fine, but at the moment a kiss sat between them. She’d spent all of last night and half of this morning berating herself for being a damn idiot.
She’d kissed a man who’d been trying to give her a noogie. Who did that? Especially when she’d been so successful in holding back her feelings for him for the past three years. But, like a valve bursting on a pipe, she’d gone and spewed forth the desire she had for him. It was another problem piled onto a plate that felt suspiciously full at present.
“So we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?” he asked.
“No. We’re not.”
He studied her for a few minutes as she pretended to be impassive. Finally, he reached out and picked up the TV remote control. “So you want to watch Ohio State and Notre Dame?”
“Do what?”
“Play football.” His voice was incredulous.
“Not really, but sure.”
Jake put the game on. A couple of announcers were discussing the OSU quarterback’s injury and how with one turn of an ankle, his college career was over.
Yeah, tell her about it. One innocent little misread and things could turn upside down fast.
About mid-beer, Jake looked over at her. “So you wanna talk about why you had to talk to my mom?”
“No.”
“Eva, this is ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous. It’s none of your business.”
He actually looked miffed. Turning his attention back to the TV, he finished his beer and sat the empty bottle on the coffee table littered with health magazines and one copy of Parenting, which she’d snagged at the grocery store yesterday.
Charlie coming to live with her scared Eva silly. She knew nothing about living with a boy. Her half brother, Chris, had already been eight years old when she emerged on the scene, and since he lived with his mom, her father’s first wife, in Belle Chase, Eva rarely saw him. And by the time she could actually interact with Chris during his visits on random weekends, he was too busy for a snot-nosed girl. Not that Eva dealt with sinus issues or anything.
As a teen, she’d rarely babysat. And when her father had married his third wife, Claren, Eva had been in her twenties. The odd time they’d brought Charlie over to visit, she’d been at a loss for how to change a diaper or even how to entertain him. The only time her career put her into contact with kids was when she conducted a field trip tour of the fire station.
Mother material she was not.
She tucked her feet under her, careful not to touch any part of Jake’s naked leg. Unlike Jamison’s very put-together style, Jake wore athletic shorts, a T-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off, and his thick hair looked as if he’d raked his hands through it a million times that day. A five o’clock shadow finished off the gruff, sexy image. Polished wasn’t Jake’s vibe. Rumpled sex god was more like it.
“I guess I should go,” he said. Jake looked uncomfortable, something he never seemed to be. And it was her fault. She’d screwed up, and now she was acting as if things were different. If she wanted to erase the kiss and its repercussions, she had to go back to being herself.
“You don’t have to. The game’s nearly over, and I think Georgia plays South Carolina next. I could order pizza from Gumbeaux’s.”
See? Everything was normal. Just like always. They’d watch TV, share a pizza and never, ever talk about the kiss.
Ever.
“Sounds good but I don’t like this vibe between us. You’re acting weird after the ki—”
“Uh-uh. Don’t say it. Please. It never happened.”
But it did. She knew it. He knew it. But maybe—
“Fine. It didn’t happen. Erased.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. So pizza?”
“Yeah. Get extra olives on my half,” he said, toeing off his sneakers and propping his socked feet on her coffee table. As if he was her brother. As if he’d already forgotten.
Gotta love the single-mindedness of a dude.
Perfect.
“I know what you like.” Eva uncurled and padded toward the kitchen to grab her phone and the number for Gumbeaux’s. After ordering Jake’s extra hamburger, extra olives pizza, she slipped off to her room to change into a T-shirt and some shorts she’d made from an old pair of sweatpants. She even took out her contacts, washed her face and put on her glasses.
She returned to the living room and held out her hand.
Jake moved his head around to catch a play.
“Money.”
He looked up. “For...”
“Pizza. No freeloading.”
Jake reached for his wallet, pulling the pocket inside out and leaving it that way. Yeah, Jake wasn’t anything near Jamison French...other than being good-looking as the devil himself. He handed her a couple bills. “That’s too much,” she said, shoving a ten back at him.
“Keep it.”
“No, this isn’t a date. We go halfsies.”
“I’m drinking your beer. Keep it.”
Eva shrugged and tucked the money into her wallet, plopping onto the wing-backed chair far away from Jake. He watched the game until a commercial came on, and then he turned to her. He wrinkled his nose. “Why’d you change?”
“Because it’s just you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t have to stay gussied up.”
“But you did for Jamison?”
He sounded almost jealous. Weird. “Of course. It was a date. Don’t you take a shower, brush your teeth and douse yourself in cologne when you go on a date?”
“I don’t douse myself.”
Eva laughed. “Well, I guess it’s better than smelling like gym socks.”
Jake faked outrage. “I hope you know my gym socks smell like a summer’s day.”
“Exactly. Ripe.”
A short while later the doorbell rang and Eva answered, taking the piping-hot pizzas and inhaling the deliciousness. Seconds later she grabbed paper plates and set the boxes on the coffee table, lifting the lids. Jake dug in, pulling out several pieces, dangling the stringy cheese into his mouth before taking the first bite.
“Ah, now that’s some good pizza,” he said, chewing and making an orgasmic face. Or at least that’s how she envisioned his orgasmic face. Yeah. She’d fantasized, in the small darkness of her room, snug beneath her down comforter, her mind going where she normally wouldn’t let it in the brightness of the day. “Come sit by me, Eva.”
He’d patted the couch next to him, offering her a nonwolfish smile.
“Why?” she asked, pulling out a slice of the classic pepperoni with extra cheese pizza that was her favorite.
“Because it’s stupid for you to sit in that uncomfortable chair over there. Your couch is squishy and comfy, and I won’t bite you...even after the event that shall not be named.”
Eva realized she was being silly. This was Jake. And even though he said he’d forgotten the kiss they’d shared...and even if he’d already brought it up as a shall not be named happening, she couldn’t see the TV all that well from the scratchy chair she’d inherited from her grandmother.
She got up and slumped down on the cushion next to him, chewing her pizza thoughtfully as the Notre Dame quarterback ran the ball into the end zone for a touchdown. “I don’t want to refer to that thing yesterday as anything. You said you’d forget it.”
For a few seconds Jake chewed. Finally, he said, “What if I don’t want to forget it?”
Eva’s belly flopped and it had nothing to do with the pizza. “Why wouldn’t you?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t expect it, but it was interesting.”
She sat her half-eaten pizza on the plate, rubbing her fingers against the paper towel she’d placed in her lap. “Interesting? No, it was insane. I don’t know why...ugh, you know, this is why I didn’t want to discuss it. Why I wanted to forget about it. Makes everything so weird between us.”
Jake tossed his empty plate on top of the pizza box. “Yes, it does, but still, I have questions that need answering.”
Eva sat up. “It was a dumb kiss. I don’t know why I did it. Just drop it.” Of course she knew why she’d kissed him. She’d dreamed about it for three years, yearning for his body against her, almost desperate to take one little taste of Jake.
But he didn’t have to know that.
“No,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin.
“No?”
“See, thing is, that was a crappy kiss. How can I let you walk around thinking that subpar kiss was indicative of what I’m capable of? That would be...a travesty.” He reached over and dragged her into his lap, turning her so she tipped à la Scarlett O’Hara into his arms.
“Jake,” she said, struggling against him even as something way deep down inside her screamed “hell, yeah.”
His eyes held devilment, humor and something deeper. Almost tender. He lowered his head, rubbing his soft lips against hers. She immediately stilled at the sweetness, the hand she pushed at his chest turning to knot his T-shirt.
He lifted his head and crooked an eyebrow. “That comparable?”
Eva didn’t have words so she nodded.
“Not good enough,” he said, dipping his head again, settling his lips against hers with gentle but insistent pressure.
Open to me.
His tongue traced the top of her bottom lip as his free hand slid up to her face, thumb tracing her jaw. Eva let go of his T-shirt and moved her hand to wrap around his neck. She opened her mouth and Jake delivered, his tongue sliding against hers.
He tasted like pizza—warm, yeasty and so damn good. Desire unwound in her belly like a hose slipping from the fire engine, spiraling low in her pelvis. That sweet, achy throb pulsed as he shifted her in his arms, his kiss softening before becoming demanding. Finally, after several seconds of kissing the daylights out of her, he used his teeth to nip at her lower lip, tugging it before lifting his head.
Their eyes met, their breaths mingled.
Jake gave her a triumphant smile.
Then he tipped her up, setting her in her original spot. He grabbed his beer and took a swig, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “There.”
Eva knew her eyes were as wide as the pepperoni pieces on the pizza slice she’d abandoned. “What the hell was that?”
Jake opened the box and set another two slices on his plate. “That was correcting what happened yesterday.”
Eva pulled the plate from his hands.
“Hey,” he said.
“You can’t just kiss me like that and then pretend it wasn’t anything more than blowing your nose.”
“It was way better than blowing my nose, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe. I’m not one of your bimbos. I’m not the sort of girl you can casually tip into your lap and maul, you arrogant, self-centered...ass.”
“Eva,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Now, don’t go getting mad. It was merely payback. You kissed me. I kissed you. Now we’re even.”
“Even?” she repeated, her hands still shaking even as the desire shriveled up like the fern his sister had given her as a housewarming gift. “You are insane.”
Jake laughed. “Maybe so, but at least you won’t walk around town thinking I’m bad at kissing. I mean, if we’re gonna kiss, we might as well do it right. That’s all I was thinking.”
She pressed her hand against her lips and then slugged him.
“Ouch,” he said, ducking her next swing.
“Get out,” she said, feeling overly dramatic, but not caring enough to stop or calm herself.
Jake thought the kiss was no big deal. Of course he did. He went around having sex if the wind blew right—a kiss might as well be a handshake to him.
But it wasn’t to her. That kiss hadn’t been anything like the chaste, embarrassing thing she’d given him yesterday. No, that kiss had been toe-curling, panty-dropping, pure ecstasy, and it had awoken a hunger that hadn’t even poked its head out of its cage yesterday.
Full-on, body-quaking desire.
Absolute, bone-jarring lust.
Something she couldn’t hide with a man like Jake.
“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning away from her. “Stop making it something it’s not.”
“You stupid, big-headed idiot,” she said, pushing off the couch, standing over him.
“Come on, Eva. Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she growled.
“God, you’re acting like a normal woman.”
“I am a normal woman, you creep. You can’t do what you just did.”
“Why?” he asked, his eyes focused on her hands.
“Because.”
“Because?”
Eva backed away from him. “You and I both know why I’m pissed. Because you turned that into something. You...” She couldn’t say it.
A few seconds ticked by.
“I made you want me,” he finished, the teasing gone from his voice.
“Yes. Why did you do that? God, Jake.” Eva backed away, shoving her glasses up her nose, feeling as if she wanted to run to her room, slam the door and lock him out. Physically she could do that, but that would be childish...and he’d still be in her head anyway. She’d still taste him on her lips.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying... I don’t know why I did that. I’ve been feeling strange when I’m around you lately.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re Eva. I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable around you. I shouldn’t notice your lips, the way your boobs look in a tight T-shirt. I shouldn’t think about...” He stopped, his face registering that he hadn’t meant to be so honest.
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and getting off the couch. “I’ll go.”
She watched him, not knowing what to do. Things had gotten out of control.
Jake set his hand on the doorknob, turning back to her. “I’ll see you Monday, right?”
Eva shook her head. “Dutch is covering for me. I have to go to New Orleans for family business.”
“Then tomorrow? Hilda’s birthday party?”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure if she was going. She had to go to Baton Rouge and get some things for Charlie so she could turn her girly guest bedroom into something a little boy would feel comfy in. Plus, the lady from CPS was coming over to do an inspection and meet her.
So much in her life was about to change, and to top it off, so had her relationship with Jake.
And that scared her because now he knew...somewhere deep down he had to know how she felt. It had been in her kiss.
“Don’t be mad at me, Eva. I didn’t know it would turn into that.”
And then Jake slipped out the door into the fading day.
Leaving her wanting...leaving her knowing that she could never be the same woman she’d been just days ago.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_7c96d097-a7d3-57c6-b22c-488bbacfd09e)
JAKE WALKED INTO his cousin Hilda’s house and nearly stepped on his sister, who looked to be hiding in the foyer’s coat closet.
“What the hell?” he whispered, righting himself against the door frame of the closet.
“Shh!” Abigail said, putting a finger to her lips. “Cal’s mother is in there—” she jabbed a finger toward the formal dining room Hilda rarely used “—telling Violet I was the one who made Cal leave in the first place.”
“What?”
“Shh!”
“But—” he started before Abigail cupped a hand over his mouth.
“I know, but I still want to hear the conversation since it’s about me.” Abigail cocked her left ear toward the dining room. Jake grew still and listened, too.
“Well, after working on the Laurel Woods Art Fest committee with her, my opinion has certainly changed,” someone said. Jake was almost certain it was Violet Joyner, the Magnolia Bend First Baptist Church’s pastor’s wife. Sounded like someone with a stick up her ass, and Violet always fit that description.
“What do you mean?” Minnie Orgeron, Abigail’s former mother-in-law, asked.
“Well, you’ll never believe how crassly Abigail behaved, running around with that hippie guy, acting positively like a heathen. Never would have thought it of the daughter of a minister, but you never know with people. Of course they are Presbyterian.”
Abigail’s eyes widened and she stifled a laugh.
Minnie sighed. “I agree, Violet. What a person sees on the surface is one thing, but the inside is quite another.”
Jake whispered, “Jeez, don’t they know heathens have more fun?”
“I thought that was blondes?” Abigail whispered back.
“Yeah—blond heathens have double the fun.”
“I know,” Abigail said, wiggling her eyebrows obviously because her new fiancé was very blond and quite possibly a heathen.
“Why are you letting those old hussies get away with talking bad about you?” he whispered, trying to peer out behind the door.
“Because I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Abigail said with a giggle. Then she stepped out of the closet and shut the door loudly before sashaying into the dining room.
“Oh, hello, ladies,” Abigail trilled. “Have either of you seen Hilda? My mama wants to cut the cake soon.”
Jake could almost feel the two old gossips’ guilt slink past him. Five seconds later the ladies themselves slunk past him, giving him a quick hello, before trotting off toward the back patio, where Hilda’s seventieth birthday party was in full swing. Of course, no one would mention that they’d been celebrating her seventieth birthday for the past three years.
Abigail sauntered by, slapping him on the butt and giving him a knowing grin. Jake laughed.
To think his once socially conscious, uptight sister got a thrill about being gossiped about made his heart warm. Yeah, Leif Lively and love had made Abigail a lot more pleasurable to be around.
“Hey, there, Jakey,” his father said, coming around the corner, holding a glass of fizzing, fussy punch. “Your mama’s been looking for you. She said something about Eva.”
His stomach fluttered. “Is Eva here?”
“No, she sent her apologies and a gift for Hilda. She already opened it. One of those kinky firefighter calendars. Eva sure has a strange sense of humor.”
And beautiful eyes. And soft lips. And breasts that would... Jake stopped right there. Because that’s where his thoughts had kept tripping for the past twenty hours. Okay, seven of those he’d been sleeping, but still. He was in trouble.
’Cause he’d upset the apple cart.
He’d lifted the rock and looked beneath to find the creepy crawlies.
He’d spun the chamber and pulled the trigger.
Too late now because every shade of gray muddled his thoughts. Yeah, no more black-and-white with him and Eva. And it was his own damn fault.
Or at least most of it was.
“Son?”
“Oh, sorry. My mind went somewhere it shouldn’t.”
His father frowned. “Everything okay? You haven’t been yourself these past couple of months.”
“Nah, I’m fine. Did Mom say where Eva is?”
“I think she had to go to Baton Rouge. No, maybe it was New Orleans.”
Jake didn’t know whether he was sorry Eva wasn’t there or relieved. He had to get his feelings under control, and as of 3:11 p.m., which was the current time reflected on Hilda’s antique clock, he’d failed to get a grasp on that damn kiss.
He had thought it would be funny to kiss Eva like he’d kissed almost half of the eligible female population in Magnolia Bend, but it had backfired and blew up in his face.
Because it hadn’t been amusing in the least.
On the contrary—the kiss had been hot.
And it had rocked him to his core, even though afterward he’d pretended it hadn’t.
Three years ago when Eva had strolled into the station with her no-nonsense braid and her chin jutted in determination, he’d drawn the line. Black-and-white. But now everything was gray. Like concrete. Slam-his-head-against-concrete gray. That should be a new Sherwin Williams paint color.
Hilda appeared at his elbow. “Hello, Jake, dear. Something to drink?”
Jake dutifully kissed her cheek. She smelled like Paris...the expensive part with the fancy perfumeries. “Happy seventieth, cuz.”
Hilda blinked and then smiled. “Yes, I can’t believe that many years have already passed. I feel positively twenty years younger.”
Dan barked out a laugh. “I hear seventy-five is the new twenty-five, right?”
Hilda sniffed. “As if I’d know.”
Jake looked over Hilda’s shoulder for his mother. He had no idea why Eva would be in either New Orleans or Baton Rouge. She was a homebody and hated the traffic that plagued both cities. Must have something to do with her brother Chris. Or maybe something else in her past? Worry wriggled into his gut. She’d been secretive over the past few days. Could have to do with her mother. Eva’s mom was in a constant state of fragile health paired with financial ruin. But why would Chris be involved? They shared a father, not a mother.
Maybe it was something to do with their father’s estate.
Or not.
“Now, Jake, since your brothers and sister have found love and marriage, it’s time to work on you,” Hilda said with a gleam in her eye.
“No, thank you,” Jake said, stepping away from Hilda’s long fingers as they grazed his forearm.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You’ve played around long enough. I’m very happy to help you out. After all, I practically gave your sister that delicious man on a silver platter.” She nodded toward Leif, who stood next to Abigail, absentmindedly rubbing the small of his sister’s back.
Dan could hardly hold in his laughter. He slapped Jake on the back and choked out “good luck” before slinking off toward the kitchen and the no doubt elegant cake bought at Swiss Confectionary in New Orleans. Jake’s father was known for his enormous sweet tooth. In fact, his mother always told people she’d landed the handsome new Presbyterian preacher after he’d tasted her caramel cake she’d baked for the Ladies’ Auxiliary fund-raiser.
“Now, let’s start with your clothing. You canter about town wearing sloppy T-shirts and gym shorts that should have seen the bottom of the rubbish pile years ago. I have some lovely catalogs I will loan you. Don’t worry, I’ll mark up the selections I think will suit you best. You’re a handsome man beneath all that scruffiness.”
Jake bristled. “I’m not scruffy.” He rubbed his recently shaved face.
“Darling, it’s not just about your hygiene, it’s the whole look.”
“I like my look. I don’t want to come across like—”
“Jamison French,” Hilda said, pointing toward the dapper man chatting with Shelby and John. Jamison wore a pair of pressed trousers and a long-sleeved shirt with a blue sweater vest. He looked like a rich prissy pants. “Now, that’s a man who knows how to play up his best assets.”

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