Holding on to Chaos: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 5)

by Lucy Score

  “You gonna handle this situation, Sheriff?” Hazel asked, a hint of smile playing on her bare lips.

  He sighed and turned to Eva. “Baby, listen. If he punches me, I’m cuffing him,” he told Eva before strolling over to where Jax and Joey stood, steaming mad.

  “Jax, my friend, you’re outnumbered, and I think you should calm down before you ruin Reva’s night.”

  “Calm down?” Jax spat the words out at Donovan. “Do you remember what you were doing at Homecoming and prom and after just about every football game?”

  Eva bit her lip when the blush reached the tips of Donovan’s ears.

  “I sure do. And I’m sure Reva has better judgement than any of us did back then.”

  “Did you go to Homecoming, Bucket?” Aurora asked, wrapping her arms around Beckett’s legs.

  He winced, presumably recalling memories of Moon Beam Parker, and lifted his daughter up to settle her on his hip. “I’m with Jax,” he announced. “We can’t let Reva go. Not with hormonal teenage boys oozing testosterone.”

  “It’s about time you came to your senses,” Jax approved.

  “Hang on, now,” Gia dipped a toe into the fight. “I’m not okay with you siding with Jax on this.”

  “Sorry, Gianna, but these are our daughters. We have to protect them from idiots like we were.”

  “Were?” Joey challenged.

  “I hate to say it, but my stupid brothers might have a point,” Carter butted in. Meadow was cradled against his chest yawning.

  “Stupid’s not a nice word, Uncle Carter,” Caleb said.

  “You’re right. Sorry buddy,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “My mentally deficient brothers,” he corrected.

  “Carter,” Summer said. Her voice held a warning tone.

  “What?” he challenged her. “We’ve all got girls, except for Niko, but I bet he’d agree with us.” They all turned to look at Nikolai.

  He muttered a curse. “Sorry, babe,” he said, dropping a kiss on Emma’s cheek. “But I’ve got to go where the testosterone goes.” He stepped over the invisible line dividing the camps. A line that Eva noticed Donovan was straddling.

  Franklin pulled up a couple of lawn chairs so he, Phoebe, and Evan could sit and enjoy the entertainment. Caleb climbed into the safety of Franklin’s lap, and Michael and Hazel stood behind them ready to act if necessary or at least capture the fight on video.

  “Doesn’t anyone care what I want?” Reva demanded from the front porch.

  “No!” shouted the men.

  “Yes!” the women announced.

  “This is Uranus right here, isn’t it?” Eva hissed at Donovan.

  “Uranus and a couple of remorseful post-teenagers,” he whispered back. “You want to help me out here?”

  “Let me talk Jax down, and you take the ladies.”

  “They’re more likely to take a swing at me,” he grumbled. But he took Joey by the arm and dragged her a few feet away to listen to her complaints.

  Eva slipped an arm through Jax’s. “Jax, Jax, Jax. We’re like step-brother and sister-in-law, right?”

  He was still glaring at Reva’s dress. “Huh? Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Good, because this would sting if it were coming from someone who wasn’t family.”

  “What would—”

  Eva slapped him upside the head. “Listen to me. You are this close to ruining what’s got to be one of the happiest days of your daughter’s life.”

  “It’s fucking Homecoming, not her damn wedding day. Oh, God. She’s going to get married—”

  She smacked him again. “Stay with me. This is a girl who’s been abandoned by her parents. Who probably didn’t have a great life with her mother before she left. And now she’s part of this big, amazing family, and you’re making her feel like shit for her choices.”

  “No, I’m not!” he argued.

  “The dress, the date. She chose those, and you’re not trusting her decisions.”

  Jax sputtered, but Eva cut him off. “Listen to me. How did you feel the first time your dad handed you the keys to his car? Or let you stay out past curfew? Or talked to you like an adult?”

  That shut him up.

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You need to tell Reva that you trust her and her decisions. She’s a great kid. An amazing one, and you’re lucky enough to have her in your life. Don’t take her special day and turn it into a guilt-fest for your idiocy when you were her age. Trust her to make better choices than you did.”

  “What if she doesn’t? I was convincing as hell when I was her age. Ask Joey,” he pointed at his wife who was staring stonily up at Donovan and possibly growling.

  “And look how you two ended up,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, but that’s different. What are the odds of that happening? One in a trillion?”

  “What are you trying to protect Reva from?”

  “Guys like me!”

  Carter and Beckett stepped in to flank him, still juggling their daughters.

  “Guys like us,” Beckett corrected him.

  Eva looked heavenward and groaned. “Okay, listen to me. All of you. You are good men. You’ve grown up, you’ve married amazing, patient women—except for Joey—and you’re raising awesome kids. All you can do is be good examples for your kids. Do you think Reva is going to settle for some loser jerk when she sees what you and Joey have?” she asked Jax. “Or what Beckett and Gia and Carter and Summer and my dad and Phoebe have? She sees all of this and knows that she can have this, too. You just need to trust her to make the right decisions.”

  Oh shit. She wasn’t just talking about Reva anymore.

  “Our step-sister-in-law makes sense,” Beckett mused.

  “I just want her to be happy and safe… and stay a virgin forever,” Jax sighed.

  “She will. Minus the virgin part,” Eva promised.

  “What’s a virgin?” Aurora wanted to know.

  “I get what you guys are trying to do. It’s sweet, but so, so misguided. Trust her to be her. Okay?”

  “You’re a wise woman. Bring it in, Eves,” Carter said. They surrounded her in a manly group hug. Aurora jumped from Beckett to Eva and wrapped her arms around her neck.

  “Why isn’t anyone telling me what a virgin is?” Aurora asked.

  “It’s a Madonna song, short cake,” Beckett told her.

  “Guys, I can’t breathe,” Eva said, her face smashed up against someone’s chest. “And you should be hugging Reva.”

  They moved as one, a dozen-legged organism climbing the porch stairs and enfolding Reva into their ridiculousness. Waffles and Baxter danced around them, sensing a game.

  “Guys, please don’t mess up my makeup,” Reva grumbled.

  “Or her hair,” Emma shouted from the yard.

  Phoebe shot her fist into the air. “I finally feel like the Mother’s Curse is kicking in. Now you all get to suffer through everything you put me through.”

  The men released Eva, Reva, and Aurora to jump off the porch and wrap Phoebe and then Franklin in a sloppy, testosterone-filled hug.

  “We’re so sorry, Mom,” Jax lamented.

  “We were horrible human beings,” Carter added.

  “You’re a saint,” Beckett decided.

  “You’re crushing me!” Phoebe yelped. “I don’t think this chair can hold this much—”

  The lawn chair gave way under her, and they all landed in a laughing pile on the ground.

  “Nice work, deputy,” Donovan said, slipping his arm around her waist.

  “Are those scratch marks on your arm?” Eva asked.

  “Joey’s mean.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “I’m not sleeping with you with your parents in the house,” Eva hissed at Donovan as he made another rather lewd and very tempting suggestion in her ear. The apple butter was jarred, the kettle scrubbed, and the fire burning low. Reva had left with her date, and Donovan
hadn’t had to handcuff Jax, even though he did shake Tobias’ hand a little too hard.

  Everyone was enjoying the peace of the country night and the warmth from the last of the flames. Donovan’s parents and Phoebe had hit the wine and beer hard enough in their reminiscences that their sheriff son wasn’t letting them drive themselves home.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Donovan argued. “We’re adults. They’re adults. Everyone under that roof is an adult. Plus, they’re going to pass out as soon as they hit the sheets.”

  “I literally just met them. I’m not going to have sixty-five orgasms through the night and then just play it cool over coffee in the morning.”

  “Okay, sixty-five is high even for a romance novelist.”

  “I’m not going home with you, Donovan. You’ve been cock blocked by your parents.”

  “Parents ruin everything,” he said with all the angst of a teenager.

  Eva leaned up to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Something tells me you’ll get over it.”

  “I wanted to be with you tonight,” he murmured against her hair.

  She shivered at his touch. “There’ll be time for that. Spend some time catching up with your parents.”

  “Will you miss me?” he asked, his voice husky as he traced his fingertips over her jawline.

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded as her insides turned to molten lava.

  “Breakfast tomorrow?” he asked. “I can meet you.”

  She nodded again, at a loss for words. She wanted this. She wanted a real shot with Donovan. A clean slate and no secrets. She’d find a way to make it happen.

  Eva took Donovan’s SUV home so he could drive his parents home in their truck. Once ensconced in her cozy cottage, Eva started to brainstorm. She had a person she needed to get rid of. Hiring a hit man wasn’t an option. Asking her family for help was definitely not an option. She needed to find a solution that would get Agnes out of her life and away from her family without anyone being the wiser.

  What would she do if this was a book plot? She paced as she plotted.

  Distracted, her toe caught on the edge of the rug, and she hurtled forward, catching her shins on the viciously sharp edge of the coffee table. “Damn it all to hell!”

  Rubbing her shins, she saw the lights on at Beckett and Gia’s. She bit her lip, debating. Finally, Eva dug out her phone and sent off a text.

  Eva: “Can you meet me for a minute?”

  Five minutes later, Beckett showed up at her front door in cotton pajama pants and an NYU sweatshirt. “Drop your earring down the sink again?” he asked, wielding his rarely used toolbox.

  Eva let him in. “Not exactly. I need some lawyerly advice… for a book I’m working on.”

  His face brightened. “That’s way more fun than digging through plumbing.”

  She fetched him a beer and leaned against the kitchen island. “So, what kind of advice would a lawyer give someone who needs to get a bad person out of their life?”

  Beckett settled on one of the stools. “A lawyer would ask for more background.”

  “Say my heroine has someone who periodically comes into her life unwelcomed and demands money.”

  “Blackmail?” Beckett asked, frowning.

  “Eh. Not exactly. It’s not like this person is threatening to release incriminating information or naked pictures. More like threatening to be a nuisance.”

  “And you want to know the best way to get rid of the nuisance?”

  She nodded, toying with an apple she pulled from the bowl on the counter.

  “I’d suggest a restraining order. If there’s extortion involved, that shouldn’t be an issue. Have your heroine go to the cops and file one. If the order is violated, it becomes a police matter.”

  Eva was already shaking her head. “What if the heroine can’t go to the cops?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be able to go to the cops?” Beckett asked.

  “Uh, plot twist?”

  “Okaaay,” he drawled. “How about a cease and desist letter from an attorney? They can be applied in cases of harassment.”

  “What happens if the person doesn’t cease and desist?”

  “Then it would be time to threaten legal action and get the police involved.”

  “How often does a cease and desist letter scare off a bad guy?”

  “It depends. Some people aren’t capable of making rational decisions.”

  “What about—and this of course is purely hypothetical—not exactly legal means?”

  “An assassin?” Beckett speculated.

  “Not exactly that not legal. What would you do if it was someone being a nuisance to your family.”

  Beckett’s eyes went stony. “I’d find out what that person is afraid of.”

  “Interesting. Become the boogeyman.”

  “This is for a book, isn’t it?” Beckett asked, eyes narrowing.

  Eva laughed nervously. “Of course, it is!”

  He was eyeing her up like a suspect on the stand. “Because if you’re in trouble and you’re trying to handle it on your own, I know several people who are going to be good and pissed. One of them carries a gun for a living, and I live with another. She’s scarier.”

  “Beckett, would I lie to you?”

  “Yes,” he answered immediately and without hesitation.

  Eva glowered at him. He’d spent too much time around her sisters. He knew her too well. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she sighed.

  “I do not like that answer. Are you putting yourself at risk? Because if you are, keep in mind that not only would that piss me the fuck off, but you live in my backyard twenty feet from my family.”

  Eva looked at her feet. “No one is in danger,” she promised.

  “I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on, and if you don’t spill it, I’m texting your sister, and she’ll pry it out of you with creative yoga poses.”

  “I have to tell Donovan first,” Eva blurted out. “I owe him that.”

  Beckett swore ripely. “You have until tomorrow night, and then I’m siccing Gia on you.” He downed the rest of his beer and put the empty bottle on the counter. “Don’t pretend like you need to handle this alone. You have family. A big, sloppy, multi-generational one full of people who will be royally pissed at you if you try to play the martyr.”

  Eva blew out a breath between her teeth.

  “Tell Cardona,” Beckett pointed at her and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Great. She now had twenty-four hours to fix this.

  --------

  “So, Eva, huh?” Michael prodded, accepting the glass of water Donovan poured for him in the dark kitchen.

  “Yep. I hope you like her because I’m going to marry her.”

  Michael hooted, his laugh booming off the high ceiling. “You’ve got a lot of your mother in you, you know?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I had a crush on your mother for ten years before I finally got up the guts to be real with her.”

  “Ten years?”

  “Oh, I noticed her all right my junior year and spent the rest of my high school career acting like an idiot to get her attention. She turned me down for prom our senior year.”

  “Is that the senior prom you took two dates to?”

  “It would take more than one woman to replace your mother,” Michael quipped.

  “So she turned you down,” Donovan prompted, familiar with the story.

  “And I crawled off to lick my wounds and convince myself I was over that pretty blonde with the mean streak. It wasn’t until years later when John caught me mooning over her and called me a chicken shit for not going for it again.”

  “Your romance began with chicken shit,” Donovan grinned.

  “My point is. I’m glad to see you didn’t wait as long as I did. Your mom likes her. She likes the way she handled Jax’s freak out. I still can’t believe all
those snot-nosed kids are adults and parents now. All except my boy.”

  “Give me time, Dad. I’ll have you wearing World’s Best Grandpa shirts eventually.”

  “Think Eva will stick?” Michael asked, grinning over his glass.

  “If she can get out of her own way she can. But I, unlike you, am a patient man.” Donovan pointed at his father.

  “That you are, son. Well, you’ve got good taste anyway.”

  “She’s a romance novelist,” Donovan grinned.

  “No shit?” Michael perked up. “I’ll have to tell Hazel. She’s a big fan of those Fifty Shades books.”

  “Jesus, Dad. I don’t want to know that shit about Mom.”

  “Technically it’s me and your mom. I watched the movies, and we found this website that sells—”

  “I swear to God if you finish that sentence, you’re going to be sleeping in the garage.

  Michael laughed. “Ah, it’s nice to be able to mess with you in person again, son.”

  “It’s good to have you home,” Donovan admitted. “As long as you can keep your mouth shut about your sex life.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  It was after midnight, and Eva was wide awake staring into the pitch black of her bedroom. She couldn’t figure out what would scare off her mother, and she felt the hours ticking down. There must be something?

  She was rejecting her fifty-seventh terrible idea when she heard a commotion downstairs. Her front door opened and closed, and heavy footsteps crossed the kitchen and then stumbled over the laundry basket she’d left at the foot of the stairs so she’d remember to finally wash her damn clothes.

  “Son of bitch!” she heard a low male voice growl.

  She snapped on the bedside lamp and padded the three steps down the hall. Donovan, in sweatpants and a long sleeve tee, was making his way up her stairs.

  “Well hello there, Officer Breaking and Entering.”

  “Technically, I used one of the six hide-a-keys,” he said, slipping his hands around her waist. “Also, there’s this random 1985 town ordinance that states as a sheriff I can give anyone permission to enter a home if I suspect suspicious activity.”