Читать книгу Sweet Southern Nights - Liz Talley - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

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.