by Jo Davis
“I’m far from ‘hot,’ but I’m working on it,” she said, pulling away. “And you have better things to do with your time than babysit me. Like marry that nice young man Drake, and give me grandbabies.”
Eve blinked at her mother, unsure which part of that to tackle first. She opted for avoiding the subject of Drake, if possible. “What do you mean, you’re ‘working on it’?”
Momentarily diverted, her mother grinned and indicated her blue warm-up suit. “When do you ever recall seeing me dressed like this?”
“Not often,” she replied, eyeing the outfit. “Never, in fact.” Her mother was always dressed in nice pants for work, or pressed jeans. She always looked gorgeous and polished, even on a modest budget.
“Well, you might see me like this more often. I had a little extra in the kitty, so I bought myself a membership to that new gym in town!”
Eve’s mouth fell open. “Seriously? I thought sweating was against your religion or something.”
“Let’s just say I have a new outlook on life.”
“You don’t need to lose any weight.”
“I’m building up muscle and toning what I’ve got.”
Her mother glanced away and Eve narrowed her eyes. “What’s really going on? Fess up.”
“There’s nothing to confess. Yet.”
She frowned. “Mama . . .”
“Oh, all right, Miss Nosybody. Remember I told you that we got a new pastor at church three weeks ago?”
“Right. So?”
Her mother stared at her like she was dense. “Come on, child. Don’t tell me you’re even more out of practice at man-hunting than your mama.”
“You’re sweet on the pastor and want to get into shape?” That made sense.
“You’re getting warmer.” Her sly smile was the tip-off.
“Oh! He works out at the gym! You sneaky devil,” she said, amazed at the older woman’s subtle pursuit. “I can’t remember the last time you showed interest in anyone. This man must be something special.”
“He is.” Amelia’s voice softened. “You know who the Rock is, right? Dwayne Johnson?”
Eve’s eyes widened and she laughed. “No way! He’s that hot?”
“Mmm, and then some,” her mother confirmed with a dreamy sigh. “He’s a big, beautiful hunk of a man, single, close to my age, and he’s sweet as a teddy bear. Now, if he’d just notice me . . .”
Wrapping an arm around her mother’s shoulders, she gave her a quick hug. “He’d be a fool not to fall all over a stunning woman like you. And if he doesn’t, he isn’t worth the ground you walk on.”
She kept her tone light, but she wanted this for Mama. Badly. If anyone deserved a healthy dose of romance, it was this incredible lady who’d worked so hard and raised her only child alone.
“Now, give me that wrench and sit down while I fix the pipe.” She plucked the tool from her mother’s hand. “And then you can tell me all about the pastor. . . . What’s his name?”
“Tyson Sherrill.”
Eve crawled under the sink, fixed the leak in less than five minutes, and was sitting at the table with Mama immediately after. Sipping iced tea and listening to her mother detail Tyson’s virtues, of which there were many. In fact, God Himself might have sent the man down from on high, perfect as he sounded. But it was good to hear Mama happy and hopeful of getting a date.
And it kept Mama from returning to the topic of Drake Bowers and grandbabies. If that happened, she might ferret out her daughter’s true feelings for a certain captain, who would be anything but husband material in her mother’s eyes.
Husband material? Good God, where did that come from?
Because Sean would never be her man, lover, husband, whatever.
And the knowledge saddened her so much she fought to keep her tears inside, hidden from the woman who knew and loved her best.
4
1985
“I met the prettiest girl when I was home on leave, Jesse. Her name is Tracy.” Sean smiled, heart giving a little thump at the memory of his week in Chattanooga. He couldn’t ever remember being this excited about dating one person, and he just knew Jesse would be happy for him.
“Yeah? That’s nice.” Jesse took aim with the rifle and peppered the targets with bullets, all in the kill zone.
“Nice? That’s it? She’s a goddess!”
“Whatever you say.”
Frustrated, he lined up his own shot. “Shit, I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“I am, if that’s what you want.”
“But?”
Jesse sighed. “In my experience, including my own mother as an example, women are only as good as their last taste of cock. Once something better comes along, they’re history. Just remember that, okay? I’m only telling you this as a friend.”
“Sure, whatever.”
Why couldn’t his best friend be happy about anything? Jesse’s cynical nature grated sometimes. Except Jesse would call it practical.
That’s what he told himself. But when he couldn’t sleep at night, a voice whispered in his brain, asking if he wasn’t certain Jesse’s problem was something else altogether.
Knowing Sean couldn’t be hers didn’t stop her from wearing her sexiest jeans.
Eve turned around and craned her neck to see over her shoulder, critically perusing her rear in the bathroom mirror. Just because she was in prime physical shape didn’t mean a man would find her appealing. There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting to look her best.
Facing front again, she eyed her tight, low-cut black top, wondering if it was too blatant. So what if she could hold her own on the physical-agility course with any man? Didn’t she have the right to feel feminine, desirable?
She fluffed her hair, applied a touch of gloss to her lips, and snorted at her reflection. “Yeah, like the guys won’t notice you’ve never put this much effort into your appearance around them before.”
Well, screw it. Let them think what they would.
A knock interrupted her musings and she hurried for the door. Without pausing, she flung it open and suffered a temporary loss of speech at the sight of Sean standing on her threshold. And a definite spike in her libido.
She wasn’t the only one who’d taken extra pains with appearance. Sean had been to many of their gettogethers in the past, and she’d never seen him looking so . . . sharp. Pressed and crisp, sexy as hell.
His long-sleeved emerald green shirt set off his eyes and was tucked in, showing off his lean frame. Black jeans hugged his long legs and cupped his package invitingly, making her mouth water. Quickly, she lifted her gaze to his face, hoping he didn’t notice she’d been checking out the goods.
“Hey! Let me get my purse and I’m set.”
He smiled. “Ready when you are.”
Grabbing her purse and keys off the table in the small dining area, she rejoined him, locking up behind her. Immediately, doubts assailed her. Should she have invited him inside? She hadn’t thought he’d be real excited to see her dinky apartment; she’d wanted to keep things sort of casual, and now she hoped he hadn’t thought her rude.
“You look very pretty,” he said as they walked toward his Tahoe.
“Thanks. You clean up good yourself.” God, how lame! That was the sort of reply she would’ve made before . . . well, just before, and she cursed herself for not coming up with something more clever. Witty. Jeez, should she flirt? No, absolutely not. She smiled at him to cover her discomfort.
“So I’ve been told, but it’s been a while.”
He held the door open for her and she slid inside the SUV, her pulse giving a tiny jump as he slammed it shut. She glanced around the interior of the vehicle, thinking how strange to have him pick her up, to ride together to their team’s hangout. And really wonderful.
Especially when he got inside and started the engine, the rich musk of his cologne invading her senses. She loved the aroma of a man, fresh from the shower. Loved the sight of damp hair clinging to his neck, shi
rt open to reveal a slice of bronzed chest.
“You’re staring again.” His lips quirked.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I couldn’t help but notice you’re getting tan. You’re looking healthy.”
More like scrumptious.
“I’ve been working outside since I got home from rehab, every chance I get,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot. “I don’t tan easily, but at least my skin is losing that pasty white cast.”
“Well, keep up the good work.”
“Will do.”
He fell silent for a couple of minutes, and the tension inside the SUV rose to a palpable level. As aware as she was of him as a man, she could swear from the almost static current flowing between them that he was aware of her, too, as more than a teammate. Pheromones were a weird thing, so perhaps those were busy tripping her internal alarms. Or maybe it was the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. The way he didn’t do more than glance at her when he finally spoke again.
“How’s your mother?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your mom. You said her sink was leaking?”
“Oh, that. I fixed it.” She shook her head. “Would you believe I caught her under the sink, half inside the cabinet trying to do it herself?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You sound just like her. You two would get along great.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all. I love Mama to pieces. She’s simply very stubborn.”
“You’re saying I’m stubborn, too?” The slight smile gave away his teasing.
“Yep, through and through. And anyway, she shouldn’t be crawling around on the floor with her arthritis.”
“That’s right. I remember you mentioning her health. Is she elderly?”
“No, she’s only fifty-three and she’s quite lovely. I’m a bit too protective of her, I guess.”
“A person can never be too protective of their loved ones. Time is all too fleeting.”
Which Sean knew better than most. Dammit, she’d stuck her foot right in it.
“I apologize—”
“Don’t, okay? I’d prefer you not guard your words around me,” he said firmly. “Keep it real, because that’s the only way I’ll get better.”
She relaxed some. “The wise advice of the department shrink?”
“And some good friends.” He shot her a genuine smile, which she returned. “Your mom must be a special lady, the way you talk about her. Like she’s a queen or something.”
“She is a queen in my eyes. That woman raised me after my father took off, and did it all alone. She sacrificed everything for me in those awful early years, until things finally turned around.” Eve didn’t bother to keep the pride from her voice. “She’s been an executive secretary in downtown Nashville for the past fifteen years, and her boss already dreads the day she decides to retire. He’d be lost without her.”
Just like I would.
“I’d like to meet your mom sometime,” he said casually.
Her heart gave a leap. “I’d like that, too.” What her mother would think of Sean remained to be seen. And heard.
“Until now, I’ve never heard you mention your father. Is he still around?”
She snorted. “According to the e-mails he sends me on Christmas and my birthday? Alive and kicking, with his perfect, lily-white family.”
“I touched on a sore subject. I’m sorry,” he said, laying a hand over hers.
She took a deep, calming breath. But it was his touch that settled her. Made her safe. “No, it’s fine. I made my peace years ago with him running off, cutting us out of his life. Or I start to think so and the bitterness comes back to bite me.”
“Why did he take off? I don’t understand how anyone could do that to their family.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.”
“Come on, Sean, you’re not that naive.” She sighed at his puzzled look. “My father was white. Attitudes were different thirty years ago. He couldn’t hack the pressure of being the white country boy who’d married a young, pretty black girl. The nasty slurs and the threats. One day, he lit out like his ass was on fire and never looked back.”
Sean was silent for a long moment, as though weighing his words carefully. “I believe if a man is fortunate enough to be blessed with someone to love, he should hold on to that and fight with everything he’s got. To hell with everyone else. If that makes me naive, then so be it.”
Warmth filled her soul and emotion clogged her throat. “No, it doesn’t. Just rare.”
“Not really. I can name a few guys we know who’ve done the same.”
“They’re rare, too.”
The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence, her hand still enfolded in Sean’s. How could such a simple, everyday pleasure like a man’s big hand holding hers thrill her from head to toe? Make her feel like the most important woman in the world?
She didn’t want it to end, but they arrived at the Waterin’ Hole all too soon. Belatedly, she realized they’d discussed her parents, but she never got to ask about his. She knew his parents were deceased from comments he’d made over the years, but not the circumstances or whether he had aunts and uncles, cousins. She knew that he had no siblings, which wasn’t much, and made a mental note to try to learn more.
“Stay there,” he said, shutting off the ignition. He jogged around and opened the door for her, then took her hand again, leading her toward the entrance.
As they went inside, she was surprised and more than a little nervous about what the others would say if they saw. Part of her hoped he’d keep hold, just to get their reaction. Her worries were for nothing, however, since he let go the second he spied their group against the far left wall.
He waved and headed in their direction, leaving her to follow in his wake. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed, but managed to do a decent job of keeping both to herself.
“Hey, amigo!” Julian yelled, slapping Sean on the back. “Lookin’ like a million, man! Got a hot date?”
“Sure do. Eve’s my date tonight,” he said, glancing around to make eye contact and give her a playful wink.
Julian’s mouth fell open for a minute as he studied them both. Then he decided Sean was kidding. “Oh, right. That’s a good one!”
Everyone laughed except Sean, she noted. He smiled, but didn’t comment as he scooted out a chair and waited for her to sit.
Of the assembled group, Six-Pack noticed the gesture and his laughter died, replaced by a thoughtful expression as his eyes met Eve’s.
She avoided the weight of his stare and turned her attention to Sean, who took a seat beside her and gave his drink order to the server.
“A Coke, please.”
The girl hesitated. “Just a plain Coke?”
“Yes,” he answered, politeness a tad strained.
“Make that two,” Eve put in.
“You usually get beer.” He gave her leg a squeeze.
“But—”
“I’m the alcoholic, not you,” he insisted. “If you want beer, order one. It’s fine.”
“If you’re sure . . .”
“I am. Besides, if you order Coke like me, then think how the others will feel. I don’t want anyone to feel guilty about drinking what they want around me.”
He had a point. “All right.” She looked up at the girl, who waited with a tight smile, clearly uncomfortable. “Miller Lite, bottled.”
“Gotcha!”
The girl flounced off and Sean nodded. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Keeping it real, remember?”
“My version of that rule excludes anything that might hurt you,” she informed him. “I reserve the right to break it as needed.”
He grinned. “Duly noted.” Propping his elbows on the table, he addressed the group in general. “Where are the rest of the women? You guys make them stay home?”
“As
if you can make a pregnant woman do anything,” Six-Pack said, making a face. “Kat’s ankles are swollen and she didn’t sleep good last night. She practically shoved me out the door so she could finish grading homework and go to bed.”
Being seven months pregnant and teaching first grade, on her feet all day, sounded like hell to Eve. “That sucks, my friend.”
“Tell me about it.”
Zack made a sympathetic noise. “Same here, except Cori’s just tired. The hospital has her working too many shifts, in my opinion.”
“Jeez, you guys are a real advertisement for having kids,” Julian said with a laugh. “No, thanks.”
Clay echoed the sentiment with enthusiasm.
The two fathers-to-be glared at Jules, and Eve couldn’t stifle a chuckle. Some aspects of the man’s personality would never change. “Where’s Grace?” she asked him.
“Going over notes for a big trial she’s working. Her client is innocent, blah, blah.”
“Aren’t they all?” Sean took his Coke from the serving girl and set it in front of him.
“Yeah. She’s damned good at her job, though.” The note of pride in his voice was something to hear. The man had worked his tail off to win Grace over, and nobody had ever seen him happier.
Eve grabbed her beer and was about to ask Jules a question when a familiar and much-welcome voice dispelled the thought.
“Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”
All eyes swung toward the newcomer—and the young, blue-eyed blond man was definitely no stranger.
“You made it! Good to see you, amigo.” Jules shook his hand and then pulled him into a manly hug. The others did the same, exclaiming how glad they were he’d been able come. Even Sean, who in the past had been quite reserved about showing any sort of affection in public.
Eve waited for her turn, hugged him tight. Then she drew back and eyed the scar bisecting the right side of Tommy’s handsome face, as well as the one circling his right wrist, unable to see them without recalling the horrible day they’d almost lost him.
“Figured I’d better show since I got, like, eight messages on my answering machine. Dang, it’s only been two weeks since the barbecue, but you guys are acting like you haven’t seen me in years,” he said good-naturedly. “Not that I’m complaining about the reception. I’m an attention slut like that.”
