by Lucy Score
Eva wanted a man like Donovan Cardona to take one look at her and fall madly, hopelessly in lust with her. And then rip her clothes off and take her to bed for two weeks straight.
But that was a fantasy, and she knew fantasy from reality. In reality, it wasn’t so much about the man as it was being seen as the kind of woman she’d always wanted to be. Smart, beautiful, witty, graceful, interesting, sexy. She was tired of being the screw up, the baby, the only Merill to need a tutor just to scrape by in geometry.
She had goals. She promised herself that she would become that woman once she’d conquered her demons and finally put the past in the past.
Eva sighed and pushed it all aside. She was in Blue Moon to be close to her family and focus on what came next in life. She’d have plenty of time to moon over Sheriff Sexy later.
“Let’s see what else our pal Anthony said about the fire.” Eva grabbed her laptop off the dining table and opened it on the counter. She navigated to Blue Moon’s Facebook group and scowled at the screen. She had to scroll past seven pictures of herself prancing around downtown like an underwear model before she found the story. “According to Anthony’s attempt at journalism, the fire is out. ‘No injuries unless the two nearly naked customers—whose names have been withheld for privacy reasons—caught cold.’”
“That skinny little asshole,” Eden grumbled. “As if everyone in the county doesn’t know everyone else. We don’t even need to run names with obituaries. Everyone already knows who’s dead and who their second cousins are.”
Eva had been warned about the gossip group but had dismissed it as small town exaggeration. She hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d make her debut in the group in her underwear. Her father would be so proud. Next thing she knew, the Beautification Committee would come knocking trying to marry her off to a bellbottom-wearing hippie... who probably insisted that his mother cut the crusts off his PB&Js.
CHAPTER THREE
Eva, feeling neighborly, lent Eden her car so her new friend could get back to the B&B in time to set up for afternoon tea. Working from home and living in Gia and Beckett’s backyard in the middle of town meant she did most of her traveling on foot.
With no word on when it would be safe to retrieve her things from the smoky dressing room, Eva changed into her work uniform, cropped leggings, a tank top, and her glasses. Donovan’s gray t-shirt, folded neatly at the foot of her bed caught her eye. She picked it up, smoothing a hand over the fabric worn by countless washings. Sneaking a peek over her shoulder—she never knew when a niece or a nephew would appear—Eva brought the t-shirt to her nose and snuck a sniff.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror and saw a desperate, shirt-sniffing woman with eyes half-closed in dark fantasy. “Crap. I’m pathetic,” she muttered, dumping the shirt back on the bed.
This dry spell needed to end immediately if the scent of laundry detergent and dryer sheets was putting her over the edge.
She bit her lip. Technically she lived alone. There was no one else in the house to judge her for wearing a crush’s t-shirt. Maybe it would help her focus? She strutted downstairs cloaked in Cardona and felt inspired. She’d put in a few hours of work and forget about the whole half-naked in town thing for a while.
Eva fired up her coffee maker, slid on her headphones, and settled in to work.
And, as it happened on good days, she got completely sucked in.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been at it. Long enough that her knees buckled under her when she jumped out of her chair when a hand settled on her shoulder. She spun around, hands in the only karate position she could remember from the intro classes she’d taken in college.
Sheriff Cardona was standing in her kitchen, his hand hovering instinctively over his stun gun as his eyes scanned the room for the threat.
“Holy mother of God!” Eva screeched, her heart trying to claw its way out of her throat.
His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear the words.
“What?”
He pointed at his ear and then at her. Her headphones. The Black-Eyed Peas were still rocking out in her ears. Eva swept them off her head and tossed them on the table next to her laptop. Shit. Her laptop. She slammed the lid shut on it.
“Uh, hi,” she said, pretending that she hadn’t just freaked out on him.
“‘Uh, hi?’ That’s what you have to say for rupturing my ear drums?” Donovan demanded, righting the chair she’d knocked over in her haste.
“You’re the one who broke into my house and scared the hell out of me!”
“I tried calling. You didn’t answer. And when I got here, I knocked hard enough to rattle the glass.” He was using his law and order voice on her as if she was some outraged citizen in need of talking down.
“My phone is back at the store. I left in a bit of a hurry because of the fire,” she reminded him. “And I was listening to music,” she sniffed.
“I’m amazed you can hear anything at all. You should be deaf from those decibels.”
“Why are you in my kitchen?” she demanded. The man was taking up half the space in her house and making her feel defensive. But at least her tongue was no longer tied.
“Why are you in my t-shirt?” he countered.
Ah, crap. She’d forgotten what she was wearing.
“I, uh. What makes you think this is yours? It’s my ex-boyfriend’s,” she insisted. She was nothing if not creative on her feet.
Donovan grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands a warm shock through the cotton. He spun her around. “Your ex-boyfriend is part of the Blue Moon PD?” he asked, reading the type across her back.
“I need coffee,” Eva said, wiggling out of his grip. She couldn’t think when she was being manhandled by Sheriff Sexy and his big, sexy hands. “Do you want coffee?”
She skirted the tiny island, grateful to have a barrier between them, and sniffed the still-full pot. She’d gotten sucked into work and never bothered to pour the first cup.
“Sure,” he drawled.
Eva looked over her shoulder to shoot him a frown at the tolerant amusement she heard. Unfortunately, she misjudged her distance from the cabinet and opened the door into her face.
“Ouch.” She rubbed absently at her eye and reached for the mugs. But those big hands appeared above her, fishing two mugs out of the cabinet.
“Sit before you dump a full pot of hot coffee all over yourself,” he ordered, hip checking her out of the way.
The good sheriff clearly knew nothing about women. The order to sit made standing a much more appealing position.
Donovan must have read the rebellion in her eyes. “Sit or no coffee,” he said sternly.
“It’s my coffee,” she pointed out.
“And I’ll be happy to share it with you if you sit your ass down and stop making me nervous.”
“I make you nervous?” She laughed at the irony and slid onto a barstool.
“I feel like you’re one second away from swinging a frying pan at me or falling through a window.” He set a mug down in front of her, and she reached for the sugar bowl—a whimsical mermaid—she kept on the island.
While she dumped sugar into her cup, he opened the freezer and plucked out a handful of ice cubes which he wrapped up in her purple dish towel. “Here. Ice your face.”
She did what she was told only because her face did hurt.
“Do you want to file a police report against the cabinet?” he asked, picking up his coffee.
She gave a small laugh. “No. I think I can work things out with it. It didn’t mean it.”
“That’s what all cabinet doors say,” Donovan said, a hint of a smile playing on his gorgeous lips. He looked like a Ken doll come to life. Dirty blond hair cut short for convenience, sharp blue eyes that told her they could peel away lies to get to the truth, and shoulders that would make a linebacker weep. He was big, solid, and oh-so-sexy.
Usually, the guys she
ended up dating were leaner, more of the medium height and medium build type. Then again, the guys she usually dated were also usually assholes. Donovan—the opposite of an asshole—was taking up her entire kitchen just standing with his feet planted apart. His uniform fit him so well she wondered if he had it tailored to show off those pecs, those biceps.
Great. Now she was drooling.
Eva cleared her throat. “You may have said it when you came in, but I was busy screaming. Why are you here?” she asked.
He gave her a half smile that had her underwear combusting when the dimple appeared at the side of his mouth. She put her coffee down. She didn’t need a warm up. She needed a cold shower.
“I brought your stuff from the store.” He nodded toward a plastic bag on the floor just inside the door.
On cue, Eva’s phone rang from the depths of the bag.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asked.
“It’s just someone who wants to tell me they saw me almost naked on Facebook today.” He looked away from her and became engrossed studying the pictures plastered all over the front of her fridge. “Please tell me this isn’t the most embarrassing gossip group post in town history.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you. You’ve lived here long enough to know what catches the eye of Mooners.”
He was right. She was forgetting about Fitz’s unfortunate face-first skid down Lavender Street after the ice cream truck last month.
“Is Mayva okay? Was there much damage to the store?” Eva asked, changing the subject.
“Everyone’s okay,” Donovan assured her. “Mayva’s already planning a cruise when the insurance money comes in and Calvin Finestra and his crew start the reno.”
Eva breathed out a sigh. “I’m glad it wasn’t worse. I can’t believe all that happened over a grilled cheese.”
“I don’t know what got into her. Mayva’s been a vegan for thirty years, and today of all days, she gets a hankering for a grilled cheese.”
“I imagine weird things happen a lot in this town,” Eva predicted.
“You have no idea,” Donovan grinned.
The full wattage nearly killed her. Blinded, she reached for her mug to give her hands something to do and succeeded in sloshing it all over the counter.
Wordlessly, Donovan ripped a paper towel off the roll and mopped up her spill. He looked like he wanted to say something, but his phone rang.
“Cardona,” he answered briskly. She listened to his side of the conversation, a short series of “uh-huhs” and “yeahs.”
“Okay. Thanks, Minnie. I’m on my way.”
“Duty calls?” Eva asked, sliding off her stool and hoping for flirty and casual. It was hard to pull it off with a dishtowel of ice stuck to her head, but she gave it her best shot.
“Yeah, Garcia’s ferrets got out again. Snuck into Mrs. Duphraine’s house and terrorized her pitbull.”
“Poor Willoughby. Thanks for dropping off my things,” she said, escorting Donovan to the door.
He looked down at her, and her toes curled into the floor boards as she looked way, way up to meet his gaze.
“My pleasure,” he said, his voice husky.
He reached for the doorknob.
“Oh! Wait. Your shirt!” Eva grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head.
Donovan was staring at her like she’d just made a repeat performance of this morning. Geez. Hadn’t he ever seen a tank top before? Oh, shit.
She was topless again. The tank top came off with the t-shirt.
She clapped her hands over the lacey pink bralette that hid absolutely nothing from his cop eyes.
“Aunt Eva, why do I hafta wear clothes if you don’t?” Aurora, her niece and seven-year-old wannabe nudist, was standing on her doorstep.
Eva wrestled the tank out of Donovan’s shirt and yanked it over her head. He started to say something, but Eva knew there was nothing he could say that would make this situation less humiliating.
“Just go,” she said, hanging her head and pointing to the door. “Go before my pants fall off and my kitchen sink erupts in a geyser.”
The wise sheriff took his leave.
“Bye, Donovan,” Aurora yelled cheerfully after him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Donovan wanted a beer. And a curvy redhead to accompany him into a steaming hot shower. Only one of those things was going to happen tonight. Leaving the October afternoon behind him, he pushed open the station’s front door and breathed in the familiar scent. Stale coffee and new carpet.
His mother wouldn’t recognize the place, he thought, pouring himself a cup of hours-old coffee. The new coat of paint squeezed out of the budget had toned down the lavender walls—a color that some jokester a few decades ago decided would be soothing to prisoners. Not that Blue Moon ever really dealt with prisoners.
Hazel Cardona had put in her time as Blue Moon’s sheriff and never batted an eye at the feminine color that had clashed horrifically with the mossy green and yellow carpeting. Now the walls were a nice, plain beige and looked just fine with the slightly darker beige carpet. Donovan considered it a victory that the issue hadn’t been put up to a vote at a town meeting. His shoes would be cruising over some rainbow shag right now had the town had their say.
“There you are,” said his right-hand woman, Minnie Murkle, as she bustled out of the file room. “You’ve been MIA all day. Did you have lunch?” she asked sternly.
He’d been running since the fire that morning, and part of him was grateful for the action so he couldn’t keep thinking about Eva and her nearly naked appearances today. Great. Now he was thinking about it again. Minnie pulled triple duty as non-emergency dispatch, records clerk, and desk jockey. He dreaded the day she announced her retirement. But since she was sixty, he figured he could tempt her into a few more years.
“One crisis after another. I haven’t seen a day like this in… ever,” he admitted, avoiding the lunch question. Of course he’d forgotten. In the midst of the fire, the cleanup, the two fender benders between lookie-loos, and scaring the hell out of Eva Merill, food had slipped his mind.
“Something’s got this town stirred up,” Minnie agreed, leading the way into his office where she dumped a stack of files on his desk. “I sent Colby out on two calls today.”
Colby was one of Donovan’s two part-time deputies. Blue Moon had neither the budget nor the need for three full-time officers, which worked out fine for them all. Colby picked up the slack on Donovan’s days off and spent the rest of his time helping out around Pierce Acres.
If Donovan ever could offer Colby full-time employment, his friend Carter Pierce would hunt him down.
Donovan’s other deputy, Layla, had a few years on Colby and an edge that connoisseurs of her pretty, sunny exterior didn’t notice until it was too late. Between the three of them, law and order was generally upheld in the sleepy little town.
Minnie walked him through his messages and gave him a running commentary on a few pieces of town gossip. “Saw that new Merill girl ended up naked in town square,” Minnie commented.
“Her name is Eva, and she wasn’t naked. And it was two blocks back from the square,” Donovan corrected with the pertinent facts.
Minnie grinned. There was nothing the woman loved more than gossip. It was one of the main reasons the job fit her so well. “Poor girl looked a little chilly. Preliminary report from the fire chief is in that stack,” she said, pointing to a pile of folders. “And tomorrow you have a meeting with Beckett and Elvira Eustace to nail down the details for the Halloween Carnival.”
Donovan glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you go on home, Minnie? I have a feeling we’re looking at a busy week. Might as well take a break when you can.”
“Sure thing, boss. Don’t stay here all night,” she said, pointing a finger at him. She paused in the doorway. “Say, you don’t think we’re looking at another planetary crossing, do you?”
Donovan sank down i
n his chair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Planetary whating?”
“Don’t you remember back in the ’80s? There was some kind of astrological thing that only happens once every thirty years or so? It had everyone acting like it was full moon at an all-you-can-drink asshole reunion.”
Something tickled at the back of Donovan’s memory. Something he didn’t like.
In any other geographical location on the face of this earth, he’d put zero stock in an entire town being affected by some planet spinning through some section of space. But in Blue Moon, anything was possible. “I don’t know, Minnie. I’ll have to give my mom a call. See if she recalls.”
Minnie, a lapsed Catholic, made the sign of the cross and knocked on Donovan’s desk. “Oh, she’ll recall. Let’s hope this isn’t a repeat.”
Minnie packed it in, leaving Donovan with his first peace and quiet of the day. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. The image of Eva popped crystal clear into his mind.
It was bad enough that he’d thought of her fully clothed about fifty times a day since she moved to Blue Moon—doubling the number of times she crossed his mind since first seeing her at his friend Beckett’s wedding. Now that he’d seen her nearly naked twice? He wasn’t going to be able to use his brain for anything but fantasizing.
He loved his job. His town. And he took his job serving the citizens of Blue Moon seriously. But Donovan wasn’t used to serving under constant distraction. He’d seen beautiful women before. Seen them and forgotten them just as quickly. There was something about Evangelina that drew him in and hooked him.
He could have just drawn that pink lacy strap down one of her milky white shoulders and—
The bell on the station’s front door broke him from his fantasy. Abashed, he realized he was going to need a minute before greeting any visitors so he could get rid of the evidence of his train of thought. Donovan was on his second deep breath, mentally reciting baseball stats when Carter Pierce wandered into the office, his son Jonathan on his hip and a box from Peace of Pizza in his free hand.
