Sweet Southern Nights (Home In Magnolia Bend Book 3) (9 page)

“You volunteered.”

“Not for that.”

“Look, the point is you should have let me know you were going somewhere. I got here and found the lights on and y’all gone. It scared me to death.”

“So I forgot to switch off the light and text you. Doesn’t give you the right to paint me into some loser who can’t take care of a kid. He’s fine. He’s having fun.”

Silence.

Jake had never gotten mad at Eva before. No reason to. But she was acting like his mother, bossing him around, not even appreciative that he’d stayed with Charlie while she went on a date with a total tool. “Oh, and guess what else. He had a Coke and some Skittles. Good luck with that.” He pressed End feeling a little childish, a little angry and a lot confused over what he felt for his gorgeous friend.

He’d never felt so ruffled, so lacking, so totally turned around before.

And it was all Eva’s fault.

She’d kissed him and changed everything.

CHAPTER NINE

E
VA
GLANCED
UP
from her position sprawled on the couch as headlights swept across the living room.

Jake had returned with her brother.

She took a last swig of the wine she’d poured herself to calm her trembling nerves.

Her date with Jamison had been a much-needed break after a trying week. He had put the top down on his sleek convertible as they headed up I-10 toward Baton Rouge. The stars had twinkled appropriately, and the bright moon had hung low in the sky, a spotlight on the busy city. They’d gone to an Asian restaurant, drank saki and ate fabulous sushi. After dinner Jamison had pulled off at the University Lakes and they’d taken a walk. The night had been intimate and beautiful. Jamison had held her hand and even pulled her in for a soft kiss.

She should have been glowing, but she wasn’t.

The whole
no Jake, no Charlie
thing when she’d come in from the almost obligatory good-night kiss and promise to call had thrown her into a tailspin.

She’d panicked, plain and simple.

A million different scenarios had streaked through her mind, starting with the notion Jake and Charlie had walked the path to visit Abigail at Laurel Woods, progressing rapidly to kidnapping and possible murder. Of course, she knew she was being ridiculous jumping to that conclusion. After all, Jake’s truck was absent from the drive, and even though she watched a lot of
CSI
, she wasn’t a moron. Still, she’d never had to worry about anyone else but herself before. Even though it had been a rough week with Charlie, she knew the bonds between them had strengthened. Nightmares and tears at two o’clock in the morning tended to do things like that.

The door burst open and Charlie bounced in. “Hey, Eva, guess what? We went to the football game and our team won!”

“Did you now?” she said, pushing off from the couch and standing. She felt a bit woozy. Maybe the two glasses of wine she’d had with dinner paired with the big glass she’d poured to still her nerves had given her a buzz. But she’d needed that last glass.

She’d been so scared.

Somehow her once easy life had gotten cluttered with feelings she’d previously ignored or never knew existed. She’d never felt protective of anyone before...and she’d never felt so vulnerable around Jake, either.

“Yeah, it was so much fun. Jake let me sit with the big boys, and his daddy bought me some candy. Oh, and there was an army tank there. Can you believe that? A tank!” Charlie prattled as he toed off his sneakers and left them in the middle of her soft shag rug.

Jake pushed in, and instead of looking sheepish and apologetic, he looked fierce. On one hand it was sexy as hell; on the other, it gave her reservations about her earlier bitchiness.

“Hey,” she said to Jake, watching Charlie as he pulled off his T-shirt. The kid didn’t like being dressed, preferring to wear only the Transformer boxers she’d bought him—reminding her just how little she knew about little boys.

“Hey,” Jake replied, parking his fists on his hips, broadening his shoulders.

“Charlie seems to have had fun tonight.”

“Yeah, he did,” Jake said.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” she said, wishing instantly she’d kept quiet. Better to have ignored her whole outburst. Panicking was so not like her. Eva was even-keeled, dependable, emotionless.

“No, but I should have remembered to text you,” Jake conceded.

Charlie looked up from the floor. He’d plopped down and was in the process of pulling off his jeans. “You were mad, Eva? Why?”

“I’m not mad, but I will be if you don’t pick up your clothes and place them in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Remember what we talked about?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Charlie sighed. He sounded much beleaguered for a six-year-old. “I’ll feed the hamper.”

“Oh, and your toothbrush is waiting. No running water over it.”

“I know, I know,” her brother said, his shoulders slumping. “You sure know how to turn fun upside down.”

Eva tried not to smile, but her lips tugged themselves upward. Dang, Charlie was cute. Not so much at two o’clock in the morning when he was covered in urine and crying for Claren, but at that moment her heart played patty-cake.

“What do you say to Jake?” she called.

Charlie turned. “Thank you, Jake.”

“No problem, buddy. It was a great night.”

“It sure was,” Charlie said, giving Jake a wave and heading into the recesses of the hallway.

Eva turned back to Jake. “Thank you.”

“Why were you so scared? You’re never scared.”

“Sometimes I am. I’m just good at hiding it.” Uncharted territory again. She didn’t talk to Jake about feelings. They talked about baseball, the sales at Maggio’s Market and the funny things Hilda did in her new job as Chamber of Commerce president. They never talked about being scared...being lonely...being vulnerable.

Jake dropped his defensive stance, moving closer to her. “I’m not an imbecile. I can take care of a kid for a few hours. Surely you trust me to do that?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have left him with you otherwise.”

“So why were you so pissed?”

Eva didn’t want to analyze her rampaging feelings. PMS had to be playing footsie with her or something. She’d nearly cried on Monday, and now she felt as if she was drowning in emotion. Her life was unraveling at an alarming rate. She needed to get traction. She had to stop thinking about Jake and the way his lips felt on hers, the way his hard chest brushed her breasts, inflaming her. “I don’t know why.”

“Look, Eva, I don’t like the way things have been between us. It’s just not cool.”

“I know.”

They studied each other, a few seconds ticking by.

“How do we fix this?” he asked finally.

“I don’t know. Maybe stop thinking so much about...you know.”

Jake lifted a shoulder. “Maybe so.”

She nodded, as if it was that simple. As
if
she could stop thinking about Jake. She’d tried that for the past three years to no avail. He was like the plague, sticking to her, surrounding her with his damn masculinity, with the adorable way he scratched his head when he stood in front of the fridge at the firehouse, trying to decide between diet soda or iced tea, with the way he fed the little sparrows crumbs of his sandwich on the doorstep of the firehouse. Sure, she’d stop thinking about how she loved Jake. Easy peasy.

“I should probably go,” he said.

“Do you want me to pay you?”

“No.” He looked insulted.

“At least reimburse the price of the football ticket?”

“I’m not rolling in the dough, but I can swing a ticket to a high school football game.” He opened the door, stepping out onto the moonlit porch. Eva followed like a good hostess, like a parent sending off the babysitter...like a woman who enjoyed the backside of a certain sexy firefighter.

“Well, good night,” she said, lowering her voice in the intimacy of the inky night. The darkness was soft, the way Southern nights often were. Crickets chirped a lullaby.

“Good night, Eva,” he said, setting a hand high on the stacked-stone column, staring out at the lawn coated in moonlight.

She waited a few seconds. “Jake?”

“Thing is, it isn’t so easy to stop thinking about it.”

“It?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“The kiss.”

“Which one?”

He gave a small laugh. “The last one.”

The one that had pooled hot, wet desire in her stomach, the one that had smacked through her thinly built wall of immunity to his charms like a toddler knocking down a block castle. His kiss had opened the floodgates of all that she felt for him.

“We said...” She trailed off because they’d already beaten a dead horse with what they should do.
Doing
it was the problem. Staying away from each other, trying to go back to normal, pretending the kiss hadn’t happened, wasn’t working.

He studied her. “Why can’t I stop seeing you in a different light? You’re killing me, Eva. You really, really are.”

And then he walked back to her, sliding a hand to her face. “You’re so beautiful. You’ve always been pretty. I knew that from day one, but now...now you’re like something that needs to be touched.” His fingers brushed back her hair, turning so his knuckles bussed her cheek.

“Jake.”

“Yeah, and my name on your lips sounds so different now. Like sex. My name on your lips sounds like sex.”

Eva inhaled sharply, sucking in the smell of this man she wanted so damn badly. Her pulse skidded out of control, and that age-old need to be claimed flooded her, wiping away intentions. “Jake.”

“Exactly,” he said, lowering his head.

She rose on her toes, and their lips met.

And this time it wasn’t about her kissing him or him kissing her.

This time they kissed each other.

* * *

J
AKE
HADN
’
T
MEANT
to kiss Eva.

But once his lips touched hers, he was lost. He’d never imagined she could taste so good, that she could feel so right pressed against him. But now that she was there, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, kissing her, wanting her.

Eva sighed, her arms brushing his waist, fluttering against his biceps as he slid his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. She tasted of wine and warm Eva. Totally addictive.

He nudged her backward so that she pressed into the side of her house, grunting in satisfaction when his body connected with her softness.

And she was so soft.

Tough Eva with her swaggering, trash-talking fearlessness was satin to his steel. Like a song. Like a woman should be.

Lifting a hand, he brushed her cheek, cupping her jaw, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss. At the same time he ran his other hand down the silky material of her dress, savoring the curves. The hemline was short, and the warm thigh beneath firm.

He raised his hand slightly, cupping the back of her leg, sliding up until he touched the lace of her panties.

“Mmm,” Eva said, her hands plunging into his hair, holding him fast to her. She writhed against him, and he loved how responsive she was.

Of course she’d meet him toe to toe.

This was Eva.

This...was...oh, shit.

He broke the kiss, dropping the hand he’d been about to slide beneath the leg of her postage-stamp-sized panties.

This was his friend...not a hookup.

His breath came fast and beneath the weathered denim, he was hard as a poker. Ready to go.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I just...shit.”

Eva looked up, eyes dilated, flushed. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have—”

“Why in the hell would
you
be sorry?” she interrupted, her frown resembling a child whose lollipop had been taken. “You think
you
were responsible for that? Like you’re the only one who wanted something more? Screw that.”

She jerked him by the belt back to her, grabbed his head and tugged it down, her lips meeting his once again.

Eva kissed like she did everything—well. His body, still amped from the first kiss, hummed with the rightness.

This couldn’t be wrong.

Not when it felt so right.

“Oh, sweet...mmm,” he groaned into her mouth, gathering her to him once again. He pulled his lips from hers, moving his mouth down the column of her throat, inhaling the sweet spiciness that was Eva. His hand curved against her ass, lifting her against him, increasing the friction between his hardness and her soft places.

“What’re you doing?”

The words slammed against them, making Eva rigid.

Jake looked up to find Charlie standing at the door, clad in his pajamas, watching them intensely.

Eva pushed against his chest and he stepped back.

“Charlie,” Eva said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing out here?”

“Looking for you.” He said it with an unstated “duh.”

“Oh,” Eva said lamely.

“You and Jake looked like those people on TV. Remember?”

“Uh, yeah. No. We’re not like those people.”

Charlie nodded. “They were wrestling and kissing in bed.”

If it hadn’t been so tense, Jake might have laughed. Jeez. Kids.

“Uh, look, go back inside and get in bed. We’ll read about the dump trucks and cranes again.”

Charlie looked at Jake. “You just kissed Eva. Does that mean you’re gonna get married or something?”

“You don’t have to marry someone to kiss them,” Jake said.

Eva started coughing...or maybe she was choking.

“Uh-huh, people kiss when they’re married,” Charlie said.

“In my observation they stop kissing when they get married,” Jake cracked, trying to bring some humor to the situation. He wanted Eva to look at him, to not seem so horrified to have made out with him on her front porch.

“Nuh-uh,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “You have to kiss girls when you marry them. I seen it on TV. And my daddy kissed my mom when they got married. I got a picture of them doing that.”

Jake realized he was losing this conversation.

“Charlie,” Eva said, clapping her hands. “Bed. Now.”

“Okay,” he said, slipping back into the house, the door closing with a snick.

“Jesus,” Eva breathed, lifting a shaking hand to her face.

“He’s funny.”

“That wasn’t funny. It was horrifying. What person loses her head that way?”

“Someone who’s turned on,” Jake said, moving toward her. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t,” she said, shrugging away his touch. “You can’t. It’s too much. We can’t do this. Jesus, what’s wrong with us?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know. Why was Eva suddenly on his radar...in a way she didn’t need to be?

Could be dissatisfaction with his life. Could be he was horny. Could be he was crazy as a... He couldn’t think of something crazy enough to justify nearly sliding his hand into Eva’s panties.

And, damn it, he’d really wanted to slide his hand beneath those tiny lace panties.

“We can’t ever do that again,” she said, crossing her arms as if she could protect herself from him. As if that would work. “We work together. We’re friends.”