Sweet Southern Nights (Home In Magnolia Bend Book 3) (17 page)

* * *

E
VA
PULLED
INTO
the driveway of Dan and Fancy’s house and shifted into Park with a sigh.

The day had been exhausting, and the last thing she wanted was to make idle chitchat, but Charlie had left his backpack at the Beauchamps, and he had homework to do.

“Go inside and get your backpack,” she said to Charlie, who’d remained quiet as a graveyard the entire drive from New Orleans back to Magnolia Bend. They’d spent the afternoon visiting Claren, and it had been...not exactly excruciating, but very close.

The rehab facility where Charlie’s mom was staying had the highest success rate in the area. The doctor and staff were first-rate, treating their patients with utmost respect and compassion. One would think Claren would appreciate the efforts made to help her fight the addiction that had already cost her so much.

But no.

Claren had spent the allotted hour with Charlie raging at the judge, at the medicines that weren’t working, at Child Protection Services for giving Eva physical custody and about the fact she couldn’t go shopping for Charlie’s birthday. Then she’d sorta lost it.

“I suppose he didn’t even get a party,” Claren had said, her eyes blazing.

Eva didn’t want to provoke the roller coaster of emotion that was Claren. “Of course we had a party,” she said in a fake chipper voice, patting Charlie, who had remained silent throughout the entire visit. He’d been so excited to see his mother, but as soon as he took one look at her, he’d clammed up, tolerating Claren’s hug as if she were a stranger.

“
You
gave a kid’s birthday party?” Claren scoffed, pushing back hair seriously in need of a good coloring. Her eyes were ringed in darkness, her pasty skin holding two circles of color in her cheeks. “I would have loved to see that.”

“Hey, I can host a birthday party,” Eva said, keeping her voice light since the woman looked on edge. “I even got party favors.”

Claren looked at Charlie. “Did you have fun, bullfrog?”

Charlie nodded, as if in a trance.

“What’s wrong with him?” Claren asked, lifting an accusing gaze to Eva. “What have you done to him?”

“Nothing,” Eva said, giving Charlie a comforting pat before rubbing his shoulder. He didn’t pull away. Just lowered his eyes to the floor. “He’s readjusting. You know. It’s a different place, and when he last saw you in court it was sort of traumatic.”

“Are you mad at Mommy, Charlie?” Claren asked, pulling her son to her, smoothing back the hair from his forehead. “Mommy is sorry. She’ll make it up to you when she gets out of here. We’ll go to the carousel and have sno-balls.”

Charlie merely nodded, and Claren pushed him away. “You’ve turned him against me. I can see that.”

“No,” Eva said, rising from the stiff pleather sofa in the clinic’s receiving room. “He’s just overwhelmed, Claren. This is all new to him.”

“Oh, I can see what’s going on. You think you’re a better mother than I am. You’ve made it where he doesn’t like me.”

“Come on, Claren. You know that’s not true.”

“Oh, no. Go ahead and play mommy. Try and take him from me. You’ll never do it. I’m his mother.” She thumped her chest hard as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She grabbed Charlie’s chin and jerked his head up. “You hear that? I’m your mother.”

Charlie started crying and a concerned-looking woman in scrubs bustled over and placed a comforting arm around Claren, talking low in her ear. Claren burst into tears, her hands shaking. Eva pulled Charlie to her, curving an arm around his small body, wishing like hell they had waited until Claren wasn’t so on edge. It had been almost three weeks, and she’d already gone through detox. Eva assumed she’d be back to normal, but the frail, distraught creature in front of her wasn’t the strong Claren she knew.

The woman looked up with a kind smile. “I know your mother has enjoyed seeing you, honey. She’s missed you something terrible, but she’s still getting better.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Claren said, wiping her eyes, sniffling. “Mama’s still not feeling great, baby, but I’m so glad your sister brought you to see me.”

Eva nudged Charlie, and the little boy nodded. “Okay, Mommy.”

“Come here.” Claren gestured, her hands still trembling.

Eva moved Charlie toward his mother. “Go hug your mama, Charlie. We have to get back.”

Charlie moved reluctantly to Claren and managed to give her a hug.

“We’ll come back next weekend,” Eva told the woman whose eyes had refilled with tears. “You take care, Claren. Work on getting better. You have a really good reason.”

Claren looked up with watery blue eyes. “I know.”

Then the woman helped Claren stand, giving them another patented comforting smile. “Nice to see you folks.”

And then Claren and her guardian angel disappeared through double doors, leaving Eva and Charlie alone in the room reserved for guests.

Charlie looked up at Eva and said, “I wanna go back to your house.”

And they had left, quick as spit.

Charlie had barely made a peep the entire journey home. At one point he’d nodded off as Eva mentally flipped through all the various craptastic conflicts in her life.

So as she sat in the car in front of the Beauchamp house, she wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into bed and throw the covers over her head. Everything in life felt too hard at the moment.

She looked at the dashboard clock. Charlie had been gone for almost ten minutes.

“Christ,” she breathed, shutting the car off and climbing out.

The sound of boys whooping and hollering met her ears.

“Great,” she said to the trees dancing in the wind above her. A leaf swirled into her path, reminding her it was the beginning of October.

Instead of jogging up the front porch stairs and going through the house, she slipped through the side yard to the back corner, where Sunday afternoon football and Wiffle ball games were often held. She nearly ran over Jake’s uncle Carlton, who was sneaking a smoke behind an oleander bush.

“Oh, hello,” the older man said, hiding his smoke around his back.

“I see the cigarette,” she said.

He pulled the still-lit cigarette out and studied it as if he wondered how it had gotten in his hand. “Oh, this.”

Eva laughed. “It’s okay, Mr. Burnsides. I won’t tell.”

He cracked a shit-eating grin. “Well, they do say it’s good for my glaucoma.”

“That’s marijuana?”

“Oh, I should try that then,” the older man said, stabbing out the bud, tossing it into the depths of the bush and pulling breath spray from his pocket. “I must go help Francesca with the leftovers. She always packs me a nice little doggy bag.”

“Have a good evening, Mr. Burnsides,” Eva said, suppressing a smile. Uncle Carlton was infamous for being a colorful character in a family filled with colorful characters.

When Eva rounded the corner she saw two good things.

First, Charlie was on the ground, squealing in delight as Jake tickled his ribs in order to steal the football. Seeing Charlie laugh after his earlier stoicism lifted her spirits.

Second, Jake was shirtless.

“Eva,” Birdie called out. “Come play with us. You can be on my team. We’re the shirts.”

Jake, who very obviously was a skin, hopped up with a smile. “Nah, come be on my team.”

Eva gave him a flat look. Matt jogged over, shirtless himself, and snagged the football, tossing it to his son. “All girls have to be shirts. This isn’t California.”

“I need to move to California,” Jake joked, walking toward Eva. He grabbed his shirt from a tangle on the outdoor patio table and struggled into it, hiding all that gorgeous male flesh.

Pity.

“Charlie can take my place. I need to talk to Eva for a second.”

“Awww,” Will cried, “You’re the best player we have.”

“Have you seen Charlie run? Just give him the ball. Send him John’s way,” Jake cracked.

John pretended to scratch his nose with his middle finger, making Will, who was old enough to know what it meant, howl.

Dan Beauchamp, however, frowned at his son.

Eva looked up at Jake when he halted in front of her, mopping off his face with his forearm. “Whew, it’s hot today.”

“I need to get Charlie home and start homework.”

He studied her. Eva self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She’d left her hair down today because she hadn’t had time to dry it and then braid it. The brown mess tumbled around her shoulders, getting in her way.

“I love your hair down. Smells good,” he said, inhaling as he leaned closer.

“Stop.”

“No.”

Eva swallowed as the desire smacked into her.

Remember me? I ain’t going away, sugar. You want him. He wants you. What’s the friggin’ problem?

Yeah, the need gnawing at her sounded a lot like a Mafia bully—strong and powerful, making insanity sound reasonable.

“What did you want to talk about?” she said, stepping back, trying to erase the sight of a bare-chested, grinning Jake from her mind. “We’ve said all that needs to be said, right? Or maybe this is about work?”

Jake took her elbow and steered her back toward the front yard. “It definitely has nothing to do with work.”

“Wait.” She wrenched her arm from his grasp. “I have to get Charlie.”

“Hey, Dad?” Jake called back, twisting around. “Keep an eye on Charlie for a few. I’m taking this pretty lady for a ride.”

Dan gave Jake a thumbs-up before dropping back to hurl the football across the yard toward Birdie, who flew as if she had the wings of her namesake.

“Jake,” she said as he gently took her arm again.

“My truck or your car?”

“What?”

“Seriously, babe. We need to talk. My truck or your car?”

“But—”

“My truck then,” he said, sliding his hand down and clasping her hand. Eva allowed herself to be pulled along, wondering what was so damn important. The past few days had been crappy. With shooting down Clint’s offer to date, dealing with Claren and facing another reading worksheet with Charlie, Eva was at her limit. She felt weak. She felt as if she wanted to bury her face in Jake’s shoulder and let him do whatever he wanted to her.

Which meant going off alone with Jake was not a good idea. But she’d never seen him so insistent. At least not with her.

She climbed into his big red truck, pulled the lap belt across her and stared stonily ahead.

Stay strong, Eva
.

Jake started the truck and minutes later, they roared down the highway. He leaned over and turned on the radio. An old Conway Twitty song played. Jake grinned and sang along.

Jake had a good voice—mellow, sexy and rich.

At one point in the chorus, he pointed to her. She sang Loretta Lynn’s part. And for a few seconds the world slipped away and there was just Jake, an old favorite song and a pretty fall day.

After driving for ten minutes, Jake pulled off the highway. Seconds later he parked next to an old fence that needed repairing. He shut the truck off.

“Where are we?”

“My thinking place.”

Eva snorted. “Since when do you think?”

Jake unclicked his seat belt. “Okay, fine. It’s my thinking slash make-out place.”

Eva laughed. What else could she do? This was Jake, and he was outlandishly wonderful, deadly sexy and so very, very dear to her. And he had something on his mind. “So...?”

“Get out. I want to show you something.”

Eva climbed out and eyed the fence Jake had just hopped over. It looked like a tetanus shot waiting to happen.

He crooked an eyebrow. “I can help you if you want.”

She snorted and backed up. Three steps and an arm lock ensured she cleared the wire fence by a good half foot. Unfortunately, she’d overshot the landing, tumbling forward, skidding on slippery pine needles and crashing onto her bumpus.

She started laughing as Jake shook his head. “Never let a man help you, will you?”

He extended his hand—she brushed her hands off and took it. He jerked her to her feet and right into his arms. “I can let a man—”

His lips covered hers.

“Mmm, Jake,” she protested, giving him a light shove. He shook his head and kissed her harder.

And it was wonderful.

So instead of resisting, she lifted her hands and tangled them in his thick hair, twisting her fingers in the softness, opening her mouth so he could do whatever he wanted. His hands curled around her, one hand on her ribs, the other on her waist. He held her tight as if he might never let her go.

Eventually, he tore his mouth from hers, resting his forehead against hers.

“Eva,” he groaned. “Oh, my sweet Eva.”

Something warmer than desire stole across her heart.

Oh, how she wanted to be his Eva.

He dropped another kiss on her lips before releasing her. “Come on.”

She let him take her hand and pull her through the shady depths of the woods. Scrubby brush slapped at her thighs, but Jake held back the larger branches. Eventually they came to a small leaf-strewn hill and just on the other side was Lake Chinquapin.

“Wow, this is pretty,” she breathed.

Nearby a cluster of old stones sat. Perfect for sitting on and...thinking.

“Clint’s place is right over there, and my dad’s camp is way across there, in a small inlet.” He pointed toward the opposite shore, where a pier jutted out onto the lake. “Clint and I found this spot when we were kids. Back then they had a small cabin out here and we’d paddle all over this lake. Not sure how these old rocks got here. Maybe Native Americans? We called it Indian Point. I’ve always loved it. Felt so peaceful, like the wisdom of the old chiefs seeped into me here, helping me out of whatever situation I’d gotten myself into.”

Eva dropped his hand and climbed onto the rocks. One jutted over the water. She startled a couple of turtles sunning on a felled tree, and they slipped into the water. “It’s...almost mystical. Thanks for bringing me here.”

He climbed beside her and lowered himself onto the rock. He patted the concave spot next to him. She sank down and for a few minutes they both stared out at the sun lowering in the sky, its image creating a stripe of golden fire across the dark depths of the lake. A lazy buzzard circled overhead as scampering squirrels prepared for the coming winter, scrapping over acorns in the woods.