Sweet Southern Nights (Home In Magnolia Bend Book 3) (5 page)

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

E
VA
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.”