by Lucy Score
“I’ll sign them if you like them,” Eva decided. “And don’t sugar coat it. If you don’t like a book, tell me.”
“Now that the yelling portion of the day is done,” Emma said, “Niko and I are hitting the farmer’s market with Baxter.”
“How is Mr. Adorable?” Eva asked. Niko had surprised Emma with a yellow lab puppy and house as part of his proposal.
“My husband is amazing as always,” Emma said cheekily. “And Baxter is pretty great, too. At least, he would be if he could figure out how to stop peeing in the closet.”
“We’re still talking about the dog, right?” Eva grinned.
She helped her sisters load up their books.
Emma turned around at the door. “Merill recap. Talk to us about stuff. You don’t have to protect us from the bad or hold on to the good until its better.”
“Yeah. What she said,” Gia said, nodding in Emma’s direction.
Eva tossed her sisters a salute. “Got it. Now get out of here so I can write another book.”
Gia ducked her head back in the door. “Trust us, okay?” And then she was gone.
But she couldn’t. Even now, Eva couldn’t. There were just some things that you protected your family from.
Eva poured herself a second cup of coffee and retrieved her phone from the bedroom. She powered it up and winced at the number of missed calls and new text messages. She weeded through them quickly. Saving Donovan’s to read last.
She’d have to return her dad and Phoebe’s calls now, but the rest could wait.
There was another text from an unknown number. Eva debated not opening but decided it was better to know what was in it.
Unknown: “Don’t play games with me. I know where you are.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By Thursday, Donovan felt like he’d been in uniform for a week straight. The entire town had lost its damn mind, and he, Colby, Layla, and Minnie were stretched thin trying to restore peace every five seconds.
Every time he lay down to sleep, every time he stepped in the shower, his phone went off with another crisis. Someone had stolen an entire rolling rack of turtlenecks from the Second Chances sidewalk fire sale. Aretha had come to her senses after trying to brain Fitz with hardbacks only to get into a shoving match with Amethyst Oakleigh in the canned goods section of Farm and Field Fresh over the last six cans of tofu tomato soup.
Colby had taken the night shift and ended up driving half a dozen teens home to their parents after they attempted to move the statues in front of the high school into a compromising position. Minnie was working overtime just to keep up with the avalanche of paperwork.
He had yet to make and keep a date with Eva. So he did the next best thing.
He’d snapped up the copy of her book she’d found at Fitz’s store and tucked it into his desk drawer. Between the peaks of crazy, Donovan read. A chapter here, a page there. And now was as good a time as any to take a break. He checked to make sure the door to his office was closed, slipped out of his shoes, and opened the drawer.
He’d read for ten or so and then see about tracking down some lunch, he decided.
Eva’s writing was strong, her language straightforward. Donovan had never picked up a romance novel before in his life, but he could guess at the genre’s appeal. She added layers to her characters, and he found himself thinking about the book, about the characters, even when he wasn’t reading.
It wasn’t just the story that interested him. It was what it told him about the author behind the words. The heroine, he’d discovered, had been abandoned early in life by her mother and had taken to hiding her feelings to protect the rest of her family.
It gave him a better idea of what was going on in the brain of the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind or his heart.
He paged through the paperback to find his spot, too embarrassed to use a bookmark in case Minnie snooped through his things like he imagined she did when she got bored behind the desk. Donovan propped his socked feet up on his desk and dug in.
He’d managed a chapter and then the better part of another when things began to heat up on the page. The heroine and her hero were losing clothing faster than he lost money to Fitz at poker. Donovan tugged on his collar and glanced up to make sure his door was still closed.
He was just getting to the good part, the really good part when his door flew open. He wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or embarrassment that had him chucking the book across the room. It hit the window with a thwack and fell behind the worn couch that he’d been grabbing cat naps on since the planets had gone to hell.
“Everything all right, Cardona? You look a little feverish,” Beckett asked from the doorway. His cocky ass smile made Donovan realize he wasn’t fooling anyone with his pitching arm. It was a good thing he was wearing his daughter Lydia in a sling or Donovan would have considered taking a swing at him.
“To what do I owe the interruption?” The Pierce brothers—all three of them—plus Niko filed into his office with three kids and a dog. Donovan tried not to think about the scene he’d just been reading.
Jesus. Was that sweat on his brow? Was he sweating?
“Man, you’re sweating. You coming down with Colby’s food poisoning?” Carter asked.
“Nope. Just a warm day,” Donovan said, wondering where he usually put his hands when he wasn’t hiding something. Everywhere they went felt awkward and fake.
“It’s forty-five degrees outside,” Jax pointed out. “See, buddy. This is what happens when grown-ups lie. They get all red and sweaty,” he said to his foster son, Caleb. Caleb, at six, was all big eyes, messy hair, and shy smiles. He nodded with the hint of a curious smile as if still stunned that he was invited to be part of the man crowd.
Niko let Baxter, his dopic teenage puppy, pull him further into the office. “I think Baxter wants me to look behind the couch,” he announced. “He must sense a threat. Maybe you should use him as a police dog?”
Baxter’s tail wagged so wildly that Donovan wondered how his ass end hadn’t broken off yet.
“Touch that couch, and I’ll throw you in the slammer,” he threatened.
“There’s no doors on our cells,” Jax reported to Nikolai. “You sit in a cubicle until someone bails you out.”
Niko frowned thoughtfully. “And I do have my attorney here.” He jerked his thumb in Beckett’s direction.
“Worth it,” Carter nodded, juggling Meadow from arm to arm as the little girl giggled.
Niko handed the dog leash to Caleb. “Hold this, Cale.”
Together he and Jax moved the couch away from the wall while Donovan tried to bite back every violent threat that he wanted to rain down on his stupid friends. Meadow’s big blue eyes were the only thing that made him hold on to his temper.
“Aha! Apparently, the sheriff has succumbed to the same book club our wives have,” Jax held the book over his head.
“Fine. I’m reading it. Let me have it,” Donovan sighed, waiting for the torrent of torment.
Instead, Carter shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, man. No judgment. That book got me—” he glanced in Caleb’s direction. “L-A-I-D once already today. I call dibs on it when you’re done with it.”
“Man, Cale’s six,” Jax snorted. “He can spell plenty. Caleb, spell hammock!”
Dutifully Caleb recited the correct spelling. “What’s get laid mean, Uncle Carter?” he asked.
Carter grinned. “Oops.”
Beckett flipped through the book, his eyes widening. “Wait. Is this physically possible?”
“What?” Jax asked, leaning in to peer at the page.
“If she’s like, you know, bent like that…”
“Yeah, I think so. I mean if the angle is right,” Jax frowned thoughtfully.
“Hey, Caleb,” Donovan said to the kid. “Miss Minnie made cookies today. Why don’t you go on out there and see if she’ll give you a cookie and some juice?”
“Okay!�
�� Caleb hauled ass out of the room with Baxter on his heels. Beckett and Jax continued to try to re-enact a particularly acrobatic pose.
“No, you’re the woman,” Jax said, elbowing his brother.
“I thought you were,” Beckett argued.
“You two.” Donovan pointed to the two stooges, “You go any farther and I’m going to tase you both.”
“How far are you in the book?” Beckett asked, consulting the page again. “Did you get to the part where Carley’s in the bath and—”
Donovan shoved his fingers in his ears. “I can’t hear you! So, you might as well shut up!”
“Don’t ruin it for him, ass—… hat.” Carter said, punching his brother in the arm.
Meadow grinned up at him as if she knew her daddy shouldn’t be saying those words.
“Don’t punch me when I’m wearing my baby!” Beckett gave Carter a half-hearted shove back.
“Anyone feel like telling me why you’re all in my office in the middle of some astrological apocalypse?” Donovan yelled over the din.
Baxter wandered back in licking his chops to get the last crumbs of Minnie’s homemade dog treat off his nose. He strolled over and laid down under Donovan’s desk.
Beckett pointed at him. “We do have a purpose. A couple of them.”
“Beckett and I were wondering if there’s been any progress tracking down Reva and Caleb’s mom?” Jax said, his eyes on the door.
Damn it.
Jax and Joey had been granted emergency guardianship over Reva and Caleb when the kids’ mother abandoned them that spring. The Pierces were ready to make it permanent. But without Sheila Flinchy signing away her parental rights, custody was temporary and tentative.
Donovan shook his head. “I had a hit on her in the system ten days ago. A speeding ticket and driving unregistered in Oklahoma but nothing since then. This week it kind of got away from me.”
Everything this week had gotten away from him. And now he was letting friends down. He was the asshat.
“We know you’ve got your hands full right now. Which is why we were thinking it’s time to hire a P.I.” Jax told him.
“I’d be happy to work with an investigator in whatever capacity I can to help,” Donovan said, still kicking himself.
“Joey and I know you would, and we appreciate it. We’re ready to make this official, and the sooner, the better. Jojo woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare thinking Sheila stole the kids back. I had to wrestle the Nerf gun away from her and talk her down.”
“We’ll get this figured out, and we’ll make it legal, make it right,” Donovan promised.
“Great. We’ll put the investigator in touch with you,” Beckett said, making a note on his cell phone.
Carter tickled Meadow. “Business concluded. Who’s ready for lunch and interrogating Cardona about a certain redhead?”
Meadow’s hands flew up in the air.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Donovan wasn’t at the station when Eva stopped by. But the ever-helpful and all-knowing Minnie directed her to the high school where he was dealing with “an issue”. She wasn’t sure what the issue was, but Eva wanted to make sure he’d accepted her apology, and the best way to ensure that was with food.
She’d seen the police reports that had taken up the entire first two pages of The Monthly Moon and knew he was running himself ragged trying to keep up with town-wide mischief.
This particular police issue appeared to involve the entire Blue Moon High School marching band hosting a sit-in on the school’s crosswalk. A beside-himself band director was flailing his arms with an invisible baton, and the band was ignoring him.
Donovan, tall, sexy, and weary, was consulting with teachers and parents on the sidewalk.
Eva spotted Evan with his trumpet sitting cross-legged next to the blue-eyed, blonde-haired junior high temptress, Oceana.
“Evan! What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.
“Oh, hey, Aunt Eva!” he said cheerily. “We’re protesting.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus, this town got you too,” Eva sighed under her breath. “What are you protesting?” she asked, picking her way through the students to kneel next to Evan.
“The band director is insisting that we play this stupid song that no one likes at the football game tonight.”
“What do you want to play instead?” Eva asked.
“Anything but his song.” Oceana rolled her pale blue eyes heavenward.
“Mr. Burke is getting a divorce, and he wrote this song about it. He calls it ‘Getting Taken to the Cleaners by a Wench’. It’s a lot of brass and drums, and everyone else is just supposed to march and frown.”
“Oh boy,” Eva muttered. “And when did he spring this divorce and angry man song on you guys?”
“Yesterday. He made us practice for four hours last night just so we’d get it exactly right because his wife is going to be at the game tonight. She already came to see Beckett about drawing up papers.”
“If I get him to agree to let you play another song, will you stop blocking traffic?” Eva asked.
“Yes, please.” Evan nodded. “But good luck. We tried being reasonable with him, and he was not open to it.”
“Excuse me, Evan’s aunt?” A boy with a tuba waved at her. “Could you make it quick? I really hafta pee, and I’m not going in the sewer drain like Willard did.”
“Give me a minute,” Eva said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She stepped over kids and musical instruments and hurried to Donovan’s side.
“Ma’am, I don’t think arresting forty kids is going to help,” he explained to a harried teacher dressed in a lavender jumpsuit.
“We need to set an example,” she said, her shrill voice carrying far and wide.
“Excuse me, Sheriff. Do you have a moment?” Eva tugged on his sleeve.
She saw relief in his tired eyes. “Excuse me, Ms. Friendly.”
“Ms. Friendly wants to arrest half the high school?” Eva whispered as Donovan led her a few steps away.
“Usually she’s much more like her moniker,” Donovan sighed. “Everyone is insane.”
“You look exhausted. When’s the last time you slept?” Eva asked.
“I don’t know? Tuesday? What day is it?”
“My poor, handsome sheriff. It’s Thursday, and I brought you dinner. Baked ziti from Villa Harvest. My dad sends his compliments.”
“I love you, and I love your dad,” Donovan said, shoving his face in the bag to sniff. “I know we’re taking things slow and all, but I’m going to marry you, and we’re going to serve baked ziti at our reception.”
“I think Uranus is getting to you, too.”
Donovan yawned mightily. “I don’t care what Uranus does to me as long as you’re with me. As soon as I get this situation cleaned up, we should have a date. You can watch me eat the dinner you brought me.”
“What is the situation here?”
“I have no fucking clue. The band director is melting down and won’t talk. Just keeps muttering about going to the cleaners. Every time I try to talk to the kids, some teacher freaks out on me and tells me to arrest someone.”
“How about this? You sit down and eat some ziti. Give me a minute, and I’ll see if I can broker a truce.”
“Good luck,” he said, his mouth already full of fresh baked roll.
Eva took her chances with the band director. “Mr. Burke?”
He cut off his silent symphony mid-slice. “What?”
“The band will play tonight if you let them play another song.”
“No! Absolutely not! It must be that song!”
She patted his shoulder. He wore a worn tweed jacket with patches on the elbows. His hair hadn’t been combed in about a week. “I understand you’re going through a rough time, but the fastest, safest way to get these kids out of the street and stop them from using sewer drains as urinals is to let them play a diff
erent song.”
“How else am I supposed to stick it to my wife so she knows she’s being unreasonable?” Dejected now, Mr. Burke shoved his invisible baton inside his jacket.
“Have you considered the possibility that all of this is because of the planets crossing?” Eva suggested gently. “Maybe she doesn’t mean anything she says right now.”
He perked up. “Do you think that’s true?”
How the hell was she supposed to know? “Yes,” she said firmly.
Mr. Burke scuffed his toe on the sidewalk. “I don’t know. She said some pretty mean things,” he said, sending a pouty look over his shoulder at Ms. Friendly.
“Ms. Friendly is your wife?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “She’s beautiful isn’t she? She told me she could do better, and I know she’s right.”
“Crap,” Eva breathed. She straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Burke. This is for you and your band and your marriage.” She grabbed him by the face and pulled him in for a loud, smacking kiss. Some smart ass in the drum section gave her a riff.
“Hey! That’s my husband!” Ms. Friendly fumed.
“We good?” Eva asked.
No noise came out of Mr. Burke’s open mouth, but his eyes were wider than Frisbees.
“The kids can play what they want?” she confirmed.
He nodded again and made a gurgling noise.
Eva dodged the purse that Ms. Friendly swung at her. “Okay, kids. You get to play whatever you want tonight at the game.”
They gave her a blaring crescendo… all except for the tuba kid who was making a beeline for the restroom.
“Get out of the street and get ready for the game,” she said, shooing them in the direction of the school.
Ms. Friendly, her arm locked through Mr. Burke’s, dragged him back into the building, promising that she was calling Beckett tonight to cancel the divorce papers.
“All in a day’s work,” Eva sighed. She turned to look for her exhausted sheriff, but another police cruiser pulled to a stop in front of her.
“Evening,” Deputy Layla called through the open window. “Looks like the situation is under control.” She got out of the car and watched the kids file into the school.
