The Fine Art of Faking It

by Lucy Score

  “Hmm.” Davis’s eyebrows winged up his forehead.

  The flirtatious sound of his monosyllable set Eden’s teeth on edge… and her blood warming. “Are you flirting with me?”

  Davis systematically dried the mixing bowl with a dish towel, twisting it slowly around and around. “I’m weak with hunger,” he explained, his eyes twinkling.

  Shaking her head, Eden dropped a pat of butter into the pan.

  “What’s the craziest guest request you’ve ever accommodated?” Davis asked, changing the subject. He poked around under the sink cabinet and found the dishwasher detergent.

  “Besides eggs at 1:30 in the morning?” Eden batted her lashes sarcastically at him.

  “You’re still funny. I always liked that about you.”

  Not in the mood to reminisce about their high school days, Eden answered. “Peacocks.”

  “Peacocks?”

  It was for this Jane Austen meets Woodstock marriage proposal. The intended loved peacocks, had a figurine collection of them. Her boyfriend wanted to have peacocks strolling the lawn here.”

  “Did you find some?” Davis asked.

  Eden poured the egg mixture over the melted butter. “Of course,” she sniffed that he had to ask. She always delivered. “I had to lock up Chewy and Vader because they kept chasing the birds. But that couple got their peacocks.”

  Davis’s laugh filled the kitchen. “Did she say yes?”

  The memory teased a smile out of her. “Most enthusiastically. She tackled him to the ground and the ring went flying. I had to wrestle it away from a particularly aggressive peacock.”

  “You do go the extra mile.” Davis filled the dispenser with detergent and glanced in her direction.

  Wordlessly, she closed the distance and stabbed the appropriate wash cycle buttons.

  Davis grinned. “Team work.

  “Mmm. So, what was so important that you had to work through dinner?” she asked, changing the subject and returning her attention to the eggs.

  “My parents aren’t big believers in technology and the nine-year-old computer that housed our payroll program decided to die a painful death.”

  Eden winced, feeling his pain. “Back-ups?”

  “Now there’s a novel idea,” Davis said dryly. “I should have known better when I asked my father if everything was cloud-based and he said ‘isn’t everything?’.”

  She bit her lip and reached for the gruyere. Maybe it felt a little nice to know that Davis too could suffer from the downside of business ownership. That it wasn’t all champagne and profits across the property line. “I take it, no, it is not cloud-based?”

  “My father seems to believe that the internet lives in the sky and therefore is—”

  “Cloud-based.” Eden couldn’t help but laugh. “My parents got rid of their Wi-Fi in the house because they said it was spying on them and killing their house plants.” Her father’s basement bumper crop of pot had actually dried up due to an irrigation issue, not the internet.

  Davis laughed again and Eden felt a warmth in her belly. She ignored it and grated a light layer of gruyere over the fluffy eggs. Since she’d made them, she pulled two plates out of the cabinet, scooping eggs onto both. She turned and admired his work. The countertops gleamed and the dishwasher hummed quietly. He’d even scrubbed down the sink, Eden’s personal definition of a clean kitchen.

  “I suppose you’ve earned these.” She handed him a plate. His fingers covered hers as he reached for it. Reflexively, she looked up into those soft brown eyes.

  “Thank you, Eden.”

  Why did her name sound so good from his mouth? Why did the brush of his fingers warm her blood to molten?

  “Thanks for everything,” he said.

  Her body’s response to him pissed her off. Where was her sense of self-preservation? If Davis were a cliff, her body would happily stroll to the edge and throw itself over.

  “Stop. Thanking. Me.” She’d been nice enough for one night. “I’m going to take these with me and get some sleep. Forks are over there.” She gestured with her chin. “See you at breakfast.”

  She could feel him watching her as she left the room still clutching her plate of eggs. Why hadn’t she ever felt this frisson of awareness with anyone else? She’d dated men, enjoyed taking them to bed. Yet, not one of them had set her body vibrating like a tuning fork the way that one, sleepy-eyed look from Davis did.

  High school crush hangover, she decided. Her body just hadn’t caught up with the reality her head and heart had embraced. Davis Gates was not the one.

  13

  After an accidentally intimate late night with Davis, Eden was enjoying her solitude the following afternoon. She had just dug into a round of bill paying and order placing when she heard the tinkling of the front door bell. On the monitor, she watched as Eva Merrill hurried inside, bundled up in a heavy down jacket and thick wool cap.

  A moment later, her desk phone rang. Vader rolled over onto her back under Eden’s desk and grumbled at the interruption to her nap.

  “Eva’s here to see you,” Sunny chirped through the phone.

  “Can you send her back?” Eden asked.

  “Sure! Back where?”

  “To my office. Where you called me,” she enunciated. Sometimes Eden regretted not setting up shop literally anywhere but Blue Moon.

  “Oh, right! Duh! Eva, you can go on back to Eden’s office.”

  Sunny hung up before Eden could ask her for the cup of tea that she was dying for. Moments later, Evangelina Merrill—Cardona now—strolled into the room shedding winter layers.

  “I hear someone has some big news,” Eden said, staring pointedly at her friend’s hand. Eva’s eyes widened and her mouth opened into an O.

  “How did you—Oh, right! The wedding!” Eva flopped down in the white upholstered chair in front of Eden’s desk. “I’m so sorry I didn’t invite you. It was a little… spontaneous.”

  “What did you think I was talking about?” Eden pressed, suspicious now. Eva had a history of keeping secrets, and in Blue Moon, that was right up there with stiffing delivery drivers and littering.

  “Nothing,” Eva said brightly.

  Hmm. As a good reader of people and predictor of their needs, Eden was suspicious. She saved the spreadsheet she’d been editing. “Do you want some coffee?”

  Eva rolled her eyes back. “I’d kill for some.”

  “Perfect. I was just going to make some tea. Let’s go sit by the fire, and you can tell me all about the wedding,” Eden suggested.

  “Oh, tea sounds nice, too,” Eva said frowning. “Less caffeine, right?”

  “I can make you some tea instead,” Eden offered cautiously. Her friend looked like she was ready to burst into tears.

  “That would be really, really nice,” Eva said, her voice shaky.

  “Okaaaay. Tea it is.” Eden led the way to the fireplace in the library. “How about you hang out in here, and I’ll get it ready?”

  Eva was already lost to the bookshelves. She was a romance novelist by trade, a lover of books, and Eden’s shelves were stocked with gems from all genres. “Entertain yourself,” Eden called over her shoulder.

  She made a quick pit stop in her office and then put together a tea tray in the kitchen. When she returned to the library with Chewy on her heels, sniffing after the cookies, Eva was curled in one of the leather chairs by the fire, one of her own books in her lap.

  “I can’t believe you have these,” Eva said, stroking the burly fireman on the cover.

  “Blue Moon’s own,” Eden said, setting the tray down on the hassock between the chairs. “How’s the book coming?”

  Eva beamed. “Great. Really great, thanks.” Eva had used Sheriff Sexy as inspiration for a romance novel and had been shocked when life had followed art, leading her to her own happily ever after.

  “How do you like your tea?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had any real tea before,” Eva said, peering at the small plate
of cookies on the tray.

  “How about I fix you a cup the way I like it, and you can get started on the cookies?” Eden suggested.

  Eva didn’t need to be told twice. “Ohmygod,” she said through a mouthful of raspberry bowtie. “These are amazing. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

  Eden slid a cup and saucer in front of her. “This is also for you,” she said, handing over the card.

  “What’s this for?” Eva asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.

  “Just a little congratulations.”

  Eden had a tabbed file folder full of greeting cards for every occasion. If one of her guests lost their elderly cat or got engaged or passed the bar exam, Eden had a card ready and waiting for them.

  Eva opened the envelope and read quietly.

  “My own happily ever after,” she said, her eyes going damp. Eva made a choking noise and reached for her tea.

  “Are you okay? You’re not freaking out about the wedding are you?” Eden asked. “Because you know you and Sheriff Sexy are meant to be.”

  Eva waved away the question. “No, not at all. Donovan and I are… great.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Seriously. I may have freaked out for the teensiest minute after the ceremony, but I’m happy. I swear.”

  “Right, because you look ecstatic,” Eden pointed out.

  Eva went from flushed and rosy to pale and sweaty in the span of a heartbeat. “Oh, God! I think I’m going to—” She bolted from her chair and dashed across the room to the brass umbrella stand by the French doors and vomited with enthusiasm.

  Crap on a cracker. What was with people puking in the inn this week?

  Eden approached cautiously. “Uhh, Eva? Are you okay?” she asked.

  Eva straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Happens all the time.”

  “It does?” Eden asked, bewildered. She added buy a new umbrella stand to her mental to-do list.

  “No! I’m pregnant and hiding it, okay? Geez, with the twenty questions, Eden! And now you made me tell my secret, and this is the worst!” Eva flopped face down on the striped cushion of the window seat.

  Chewy decided to be helpful and climbed up on the cushion to spoon Eva with his eighty-pound body.

  “Um…”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Eden whirled around to find Davis standing in the doorway looking fine as an Instagram model in dark trousers and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hadn’t shaved today and had a sexy little stubble thing going.

  He needed to leave her alone or her resolve to continue her intense dislike of him would start to crumble.

  “Everything is fine. Great. Eva just…”

  “I threw up in the umbrella stand,” Eva wailed, working her way back to a seated position.

  “I threw up in Eden’s shower,” Davis confessed.

  Eva’s lips reluctantly quirked. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Like a geyser.”

  “It’s been a real barf party around here this week,” Eden sighed. She wished she had some rum for her tea. It would make everything just a little more manageable.

  Eva tapped her forehead, looking at Davis. “Kitchen cabinet?” she asked.

  “Fridge then cabinet,” he said, brushing his fingers over the fresh bandage.

  “If you two are done comparing war wounds—” Eden began, intent on getting Davis out of the room.

  “Excuse me, Eden? Sheriff Cardona’s here to see you,” Sunny said poking her head into the room.

  “Donovan!” Eva came to her feet as all of her six-foot-plus husband ambled into the room in his uniform.

  “Hey, honey.”

  Eva danced over and placed a NC-17 kiss on her husband of three days.

  “Newlyweds,” Eden muttered.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Eva, but you taste a little like puke,” Donovan said in a soft whisper.

  Maybe tequila instead of rum, Eden decided.

  “I threw up in the umbrella stand,” Eva confessed.

  Donovan didn’t look remotely surprised.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Davis said, clapping Donovan on the back.

  “Thanks,” Donovan beamed, grinning down at his wife. For a split second, Eden wondered if Davis had ever looked that way at a woman and then decided instantly that she didn’t care.

  “Did you need something, Sheriff?” Eden asked, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

  Donovan cleared his throat. His gaze flitted to Davis and back to Eden guiltily. “I’m afraid I’m here in an official capacity.”

  “Oh, for shit’s sake!” Eden spat out. “That was fifteen years ago, and it wasn’t my fault!”

  “What’s going on?” Eva asked.

  “Is there somewhere private we can talk?” Donovan asked Eden. He pulled off his hat, revealing a mohawk earned during the height of the astrological apocalypse last week.

  “Why don’t we hold a town meeting, and you can interrogate me in front of everyone to see if I burned down Davis’s house?” Eden suggested.

  There was a noise in the hallway, and they all froze as a troop of six women giggled past on their way to the stairs.

  Eva’s gasp took the air out of the room. “Donovan! Are you accusing Eden of starting the fire?” she asked, drilling a finger into her husband’s chest.

  “Eva, I have to do my job.”

  Eden rounded on Davis. “So me opening my home to you earns me a visit from the sheriff? I can’t believe you think I did this!” She couldn’t believe she’d cooked this man eggs last night.

  Davis stepped carefully into the fight that she was dying to have. “First of all, Eden, I never said I thought you had anything to do with it. In fact, that’s exactly the opposite of what I told the fire chief.”

  “Donovan, how can you think Eden would have anything to do with this?” Eva hissed. Eden’s heart softened at how offended her friend was on her behalf. Although Eva probably didn’t know what had happened all those years ago.

  “Then who decided I’m a suspect, Gates?” Eden demanded.

  Davis let out a heavy sigh. “I’m guessing Donovan here got a call from my apoplectic father today. I told him about the fire. He didn’t take it well.”

  “So he called the cops to tell them that I did it?” Eden said shrilly. The Moodys and Gateses had, for the most part, left law enforcement out of their feud. This would take things to a whole new level. She hated to think of the revenge her parents would want to extract now. If Donovan hauled her out of here in handcuffs, would they paint giant penises on the Gateses’ fleet of electric cars again?

  “That sounds like something he’d do,” Davis said.

  “A source called to express their very loud, demanding concern that we perform a thorough investigation,” Donovan said over Eva’s head. “Unrelated, is your father on any kind of stress management program or anti-anxiety medicines? Because he should consider it with his health history.”

  “Look,” Eva cut in. “I get that you’re in work mode, and you’re not allowed to come out and say ‘Of course, Eden’s innocent, and I’m wasting everyone’s time right now because Davis’s dad is a—sorry, Davis—dick. But if you don’t say those words right now, you’re going to have to cook yourself dinner tonight.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  If her friend hadn’t recently vomited, Eden would have kissed her on the mouth.

  “I am in work mode,” Donovan insisted. “And, as such, I’m not allowed to let my personal feelings cloud my judgment even if I would know for certain this is a waste of time and an unfortunate and embarrassing inconvenience for some of us.”

  Eva crinkled her nose and debated. “I’m not sure if you’re forgiven yet.”

  Donovan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “May I please just ask my questions so we can all put this behind us?”

  “Fine, but I’m calling Beckett first,” E
va announced. “Eden deserves legal representation.”

  Eden put her hands up. “Okay. Let’s take a breath. Eva, thank you for wanting to protect me. But I don’t need a lawyer. On the day in question, I was making and serving breakfast for my guests. There were about twelve people who can place me here during the morning. The whole morning. I have a list of their names and contact information.”

  Davis had remained quiet for far too long in Eden’s opinion. “Is that good enough for your father?” she snapped at him. “Or would he prefer that the sheriff hauled me out of here in handcuffs?”

  “I’m not going to answer that truthfully,” Davis said with an embarrassed grin. “Let’s just say my father is a hard man to persuade.”

  “Well maybe someone should try it sometime,” Eden said, boring holes in him with her eyes.

  Donovan cleared his throat. “If you have that list handy, I think we can call it a day.”

  “I’ll get you a copy,” Eden said primly. She strode from the room, head held high, and congratulated herself on not punching a hole in the plaster wall.

  Back in her office with her stack of paperwork and ignored to-do list, she printed a copy of the guest information and folded it neatly, if a little violently, into an envelope.

  She was headed in the direction of the library when she heard Eva’s voice coming from the sun porch on the back of the house.

  “Yes, I know they’re under the same roof, Bruce. But how are they supposed to fall in love if Eden’s being questioned in his fire investigation?” Eva was hissing.

  Eden ducked behind the doorway and held her breath… and her bile. Fall in love? With Davis? No wonder Bruce and Ellery had shown up on her doorstep with him. Those sneaky sons of Beautification Committee members had been waiting for an opening to force her and Davis together. And the destruction of his house had provided the perfect opportunity.

  “I’m only saying that I don’t think having Eden accused of a crime against Davis is very healthy for their relationship.”

  Oh, hell no. Eden crumpled the envelope in her hands. No one played puppet master with Eden’s life. She tip-toed past the door and hurried into the library. Davis was gone, but Donovan was studying the shelves smiling boyishly at his wife’s romance novels.