by Lucy Score
She changed into pajama pants and a tank, dug out her glasses, and wrote by the glow of her screen. Donovan had given her enough character material that it came pouring out in a spontaneous character sketch of her main character.
He was so good. In her experience, few people were that solidly good and kind and trustworthy. And she’d already gone and screwed it up.
No secrets. No surprises, he’d told her.
And she’d been lying to him—not to mention her own family—since day one. Stupid Uranus was really fucking things up for her. But in her heart, she knew she’d done more of the fucking up than any planet.
--------
“Hey. Wake up!” The cheerful order had Eva sitting straight up in bed and scurrying back against the headboard when she found Joey plopped on the foot of the bed.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Eva demanded, pulling a pillow over her face. “And how did you get in here?”
“I shimmied up the drainpipe. You left your window open.” Joey jerked a thumb at the window behind her.
“Why are you in my bed?”
Joey, dressed for work in the stables, stretched out on the bed. “Well, I got this funny text from someone I considered a friend,” she began.
Eva groaned and pulled the pillow tighter over her face. Of all the people to give her a hard time, she hadn’t expected it to be Joey.
“At least, I thought we were friends. But it turns out she’s a big, fat liar and thought she could clean it up with a text,” Joey continued. “I was expecting some kind of a post-coital text about how amazing Cardona is in the sack. So, I texted you back. And you know what happened?”
“What?” Eva mumbled through her pillow.
“There was no response. In fact, everyone in town has been texting, calling, messaging you, and beating on your front door. I had to wait until Cardona left your porch before climbing up here.”
“Shit.” Eva heaved the pillow off her face. It hit the floor with a dull whoomph. “I panicked. Donovan and Mrs. Nordemann were staring at me like I was a freak, and I could hear the Blue Moon grapevine gearing up.”
“Were you ever planning to tell us?” Joey asked, swinging her legs.
“Of course! I had a plan. I just wanted to finish this book. And release it. And hit a bestseller list.”
“That’s a lot of ands,” Joey observed.
“I wanted to be really good at this so it would be this amazing surprise to everyone.”
“God, you’re an asshole,” Joey told her with no heat to the words.
“Come on! It’s not that bad!”
“You have a family that loves the shit out of you, and you think the nice thing to do is keep this huge part of your life a secret from them, so not only do you cut them out of the process, but you make them feel like you didn’t trust them to be there for you.”
“That’s not true!”
“I wonder how your sisters feel?” Joey said, nodding her head toward Eva’s phone. “Family is supposed to be there for the hard work, not just the payoff. You robbed them and you of that.”
“Great pep talk. Thanks, Joey,” Eva said with sarcasm.
Joey sat back up and heaved a grocery bag onto the bed. “You can redeem yourself in my eyes at least by signing these.” She upended the bag on the quilt and every single one of Eva’s books spilled out.
“My books. You have them all?”
“Romance is kind of my guilty pleasure,” Joey admitted. “Keeps me and Jax pretty creative in the sack if you know what I mean.”
“You want me to sign my books?” Eva felt the warm rush of pride.
“Duh.” Joey tossed a pen at her. “You can start with ‘To my best friend, Joey…’”
Eva was on her fourth book when a voice louder than it should have been carried through the open window.
“Eva Merill, get your ass down here now.”
Eva and Joey scrambled to her window and peered into the yard. Donovan Cardona was standing on the grass wielding a Blue Moon PD bullhorn.
Eva yelped and ducked.
“I can see you,” Donovan shouted, his voice echoing around the neighborhood.
“Jesus, is he going to arrest me?” Eva wondered out loud.
“I bet Cardona can get pretty creative with those handcuffs,” Joey said, looking down at him. “Here. Hand me that,” she said, pointing at Eva’s discarded bra from the night before.
“What are you going to do with it?” Eva asked crawling over to it.
Joey hung it out the window. “Eva surrenders. She’ll be down in a minute,” she yelled.
“Damn it! Now I have to talk to him!”
“Don’t whine to me. You could have been an adult about this and answered your damn phone. You’re just paying the price for being stupid.”
“Gimmie those books back,” Eva said, diving for the bag. “I’m changing the inscriptions!”
“No!” Joey pounced on her, flattening her to the mattress and moving the bag of books out of her reach.
“What’s going on up there?” Donovan called through the megaphone.
“Aunt Joey is on top of Aunt Eva on the bed,” Evan yelled.
“What?” Donovan squawked.
Eva lifted her head and saw Evan leaning out of an attic window with binoculars. “They look really mad right now,” Evan continued his commentary.
“Evan! Get down from there and put those binoculars away,” Gia’s voice sounded shrilly from the backyard.
Eva pushed Joey off her and stomped downstairs. “I thought it would be so great having family nearby,” she muttered under her breath.
She unlocked the front door and steamed out onto the porch.
“What is going on?” she demanded.
Gia, Beckett, and Aurora were standing next to Donovan on the lawn. Emma and Niko were sitting on the back porch holding coffees seemingly enjoying the view.
“Invite the whole neighborhood, why don’t you?” she grumbled.
“There’s our grumpy little liar,” Donovan said into the bullhorn.
“If you don’t put that thing down, I’m going to hit you with it,” Eva threatened.
“That’s assaulting an officer, Aunt Eva. You probably shouldn’t do that,” Evan yelled from the attic window.
“You should listen to the kid,” Donovan announced to the entire neighborhood.
Eva stomped over to him and yanked the microphone out of his hand. “Did Uranus suddenly climb up your anus?” she demanded into the mic. “Because you’re acting like someone you should arrest.”
Emma and Niko applauded while Evan snort laughed and Beckett covered Aurora’s ears.
“Okay. We probably don’t need this anymore,” Donovan decided, putting the megaphone down.
“Great. Maybe I can go back to sleep.” She made a move for the door, but he stopped her with a big hand on her shoulder.
Joey ambled out the front door. “Morning, everyone.”
“Morning, Joey,” everyone replied.
“Good luck with this hot mess,” Joey said, jerking her thumb in Eva’s direction and tossing her bag over her shoulder.
“Ladies,” Donovan turned to address Gia and Emma. “You’re going to get your shot at the interrogation, but I call dibs. Okay?”
“Soften her up for us,” Emma said sternly.
“You heard your sisters. Let’s go,” he said, hauling Eva up onto the porch and into her kitchen. He shut the door behind them and made himself at home fixing a pot of coffee.
Eva yanked the refrigerator open harder than necessary and, not finding anything that looked good, slammed it again.
“You’ve got some thinking to do,” Donovan said conversationally as he poured the water into the reservoir.
“Oh, do I?” He looked up at her with a bland look, and she felt like a petulant six-year-old. “I’m sorry,” she offered.
“I think you’re probably going to need to cla
rify that apology. Lying. Ducking out on me last night. Ignoring my calls. What do you think that does to a guy who thinks he’s in love with you?”
“Jesus, Donovan. We haven’t even had a first date yet. Let me catch my breath!”
“I’ve been letting you breathe since I laid eyes on you.” The coffeemaker sputtered to life. “You let me know when you’ve had enough oxygen.”
He was hurt, and she’d done it to him. Her choices had hurt him and even though it wasn’t her intention, she still felt a heavy blanket of guilt. Eva walked around the island to face him. She stepped between his feet and leaned against him, running her hands up his chest to his shoulders.
The man wasn’t ready to forgive her, but his body had other ideas. Donovan Cardona was stone hard against her.
“I’m sorry for lying to you about what I do for a living. Especially after you told me that you didn’t want any lies or secrets between us. I’m sorry for running away last night. I got overwhelmed. I like you.” She looked at his chest. “I really like you. And I’m sorry for hurting you and hiding from you.”
His hands moved from the counter to her hips.
“I don’t want to screw this up,” she continued. “But to me that means taking things a little slow until I can wrap my head around the fact that Sheriff Sexy is into me.”
His fingers squeezed into her flesh. “I think that’s a reasonable request.”
“You can’t love me, yet,” she told him. “Not without knowing me.”
“Then let me get to know you.”
“I guess we could give it a shot.”
“Why is that so hard?” he asked her, inching her chin up so she would meet his gaze.
She wrestled with the answer, the vulnerability it would uncover.
“Ugh. Fine. I was eight-years-old when my mother left. And everyone was so worried about how I was handling it, worried I’d crack. When people ask you a thousand times a day how you’re doing, you learn that ‘fine’ gets the job done. I didn’t want anyone to be worried about me when we were all hurting.”
“Honey,” Donovan said, pulling her in closer. “That was a long time ago. I think you and your sisters can handle the real stuff. You don’t have to worry about hurting them with the truth, and they don’t have to worry about you breaking. You’re all grown up now.”
“Oh, hell. I’m so sorry, Donovan,” she whispered. “Everything’s happening so fast. I don’t know how to catch up.”
“We’ll slow it down as long as you’re in this with me. You’re not just leading me on for plot research or something, are you?”
She stiffened against him. Now was not the time to tell the man he was the star of her new book. Rather than lie, she laughed and brought her arms around his neck and stood on his boots. “I find you very inspiring.”
This time he kissed her. And this time, the world disappeared. His mouth moved over hers whispering dark promises that sounded both terrifying and tender. She could feel the energy of need racing just beneath his surface. The idea that she could feel something like this? It was dizzying. Eva molded herself to him and enjoyed his groan when her hips cuddled against his erection.
“You guys about done in there?” Beckett called.
“Who gave that guy a bullhorn?” Donovan murmured against Eva’s mouth.
She laughed. “I really like you, Sheriff.”
“I really like you, too, Eva.”
His phone rang and he groaned. “I gotta take this.”
“I’ll get your coffee to go,” Eva told him.
He kissed her once more, hard on the mouth, before answering his phone. “What?” His frown shifted into a grin. “A noise complaint on Beckett’s block? That’s weird. I’ll check it out. Thanks, Minnie.”
He hung up and took the travel mug Eva gave him. “Someone’s complaining about some idiot with a bullhorn. I’d better go investigate.”
She laughed. “Sure you don’t want to stay and protect me from my sisters?” she asked.
“I don’t think you need much protecting, Eva. Just don’t maim them or I’ll be back here for another noise complaint.”
She didn’t want him to leave. But there was a town out there that needed to be protected from itself.
“Be safe out there,” she called after him when he opened the front door.
He tossed her a salute. “Will do. I’ll call you. Don’t get into any trouble.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“What in the ever-living hell, Eves?” Emma stared at her, hands on hips, lips pursed. “I don’t even know where to start with you. ‘Oh, hey! By the way I’m a giant liar, and I’m only confessing because I got busted!’”
Gia took a different route. The one Eva hated. She sat perched on a barstool at Eva’s kitchen island, her green eyes wide and sad. “Can you tell me what I did that made you feel uncomfortable trusting me? I feel awful that you felt the need to keep this whole part of your life from us.”
Eva shoved her hands through her hair. The guilt trip. Gia had mastered it as a mother and wielded it like a sword used to stab her in the heart.
“Look. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It wasn’t that I thought you guys would judge me. I mean, maybe a little, but—”
“I’m judging you and your jerky liar face right now,” Emma snipped.
“Damn it! It wasn’t supposed to happen like this!” Eva paced the small space and wished Donovan was still here.
“How exactly did you envision it going?” Gia asked calmly.
“I was going to hit a bestseller list, and I was going to have you two and Dad and Phoebe over for dinner—with champagne—and give you all signed copies, and you’d finally know that I wasn’t some daydreaming screw-up anymore.”
“We don’t think you’re some daydreaming screw-up,” Emma argued. “We think you’re our little sister. We pick, all of us. I’m the control freak, Gia couldn’t find her damn car keys if they were braided into her hair, and you can’t be bothered to pay enough attention to not walk into cabinet doors.”
“So, if I come to you with a bestselling book—”
“You’re still our Eva. Dumbass.”
Gia shot Emma a warning look. “Eva, we’re already impressed with you. You graduated college. You travel. You’re living your dream right now and not waiting until you’re fifty to chase it down. You’re amazing, and I’m sorry we ever gave you the impression you were anything but amazing.”
“I just always thought you guys didn’t think I could take care of myself.”
“Where did you get that dumbass idea?” Emma asked, a little less heat behind her words.
“When Mom left, you guys and Dad hovered over me like I might shatter into pieces.”
“When Mom left, you were the youngest. You were also the closest to her. Gia and I were going through our rebellious phases already.”
“Besides, Dad smothered us all with ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Do you miss your mom?’.” Gia pointed out. “It wasn’t a ‘you’re too weak to function’ thing. It was a ‘you can talk to me thing.’”
“Great. Now, I really feel like crap,” Eva groaned. “Stupid Donovan being right all the time.” She prayed the subject change would lighten the mood.
“What did our esteemed sheriff have to say once he put the bullhorn down?” Emma asked, picking up a banana from the fruit bowl.
“He said—to paraphrase—family wants to be there for messy parts, not just the celebrations.”
“The mess is more important than the big wins,” Gia nodded. “That’s like if I wouldn’t have introduced you guys to my kids before they were potty-trained and feeding themselves. Babies and toddlers are the mess, but you can’t skip over the mess and just land at the good stuff. Most of the good stuff is in the mess.”
“Our resident philosophical yogi,” Emma said, golf clapping.
“I fucked this all up,” Eva sighed, flopping down at her table.
“Not everythin
g,” Gia said. “You did just have a very attractive man shouting at you from your lawn.”
“He thinks he might love me.”
“What?” her sisters screeched in unison.
“Ouch! My ears,” Eva complained.
“What did you say when he made this approximal proclamation?” Emma demanded.
“I told him I need time to get used to the idea of dating him.” Eva threw up her hands. “Technically we haven’t even had a real date yet.”
“And yet he thinks that you’re it for him?” Gia asked, hearts and flowers in her eyes.
“I know. It’s insane.”
“I think it’s incredibly romantic, Eves. He doesn’t date unless he does it very quietly. The fact that he’s coming on this strong… well, I think he means it.” Gia clasped her hands under her chin.
“Of course the romance novelist gets the romance,” Emma teased. “Speaking of, when do we get to read your book? Books? How many do you have?”
“You can start right now,” Eva said, grinning. She skipped into the living room and opened the storage compartment of her ottoman. She returned with an armload of books. “I have five out, and I’m working on number six.”
Emma snatched one off the stack and flipped it open. “That’s What She Said Publishing?”
Eva grinned. “That’s me, too.”
“You’re a publisher, too?” Gia squealed. “I’m getting more proud by the moment!”
“Don’t get me started on the indie publishing industry and how being your own publisher both rocks and sucks,” Eva laughed.
“Her hand trembled as he skimmed his lips over the curve of her hip—” Emma read. “I think Niko and I are going to read this in bed tonight.”
“Don’t leave those laying around for Aurora to find and take to school,” Eva cautioned Gia. “They’re… steamy.”
“Like on a scale of one to, oh, I don’t know… fifty?” Emma asked with a wink.
“A strong forty-eight.”
Gia whistled and fanned herself. “I can’t wait until naptime today! Aren’t you going to sign them for us?”
