by Jo Davis
When it came to be his turn, her lover stood tall and faced the group. “Hi. My name is Sean and I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi, Sean!”
He took a steadying breath. “I started drinking to numb the unending pain of losing my wife and children in a car accident. I’m a captain at my fire station, and we got the call. I saw them burn.”
No one moved, or spoke.
“My six-year-old daughter . . .” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “She could’ve been saved. Five more minutes. That’s all I needed, but I was too late. I crawled into the bottle and stayed there for almost two years. I wanted to die, or thought I did. Then my mistake at work almost got one of my men killed, and I knew I’d hit rock bottom.”
A couple of sniffles sounded loud in the stillness.
“I’d come to the crossroads—either live or die. Ultimately, I wanted to be a man my daughter and son would’ve been proud to call their dad. It won’t be easy, but knowing I’d disappoint them by giving up would be even harder. So here I am, and I believe I’ll make it, thanks to friends and some very special people.”
Glancing down at her, Sean held out his hand. Eve stared at him for a couple of heartbeats before she realized he’d publicly declared her to be one of those “very special people.” She beamed at him and he returned the smile.
“Thank you,” he said to the group. Taking his seat, he planted a sweet kiss on her lips.
She drew back, touched his face. “You did great. I’m so proud of you.”
“I have the best incentive in the world.”
The confident words, the heated look, sustained her for the rest of the evening. She hardly knew what the remaining speakers said, or paid attention to the small talk they made with members of the group on their way out after the meeting. All she knew was that she and Sean had something real. Despite his fears, and other obstacles.
They could make it. Had a good shot.
He followed her directions to her mother’s house and a short while later pulled into the drive. Before they got out, he grinned at her.
“I have a feeling those meetings will seem like a piece of cake compared to this. Facing a firing squad might be easier.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you. Into the lion’s den.”
No way was she going to admit she was a little unsure of his reception as well.
He was right—this should be interesting.
Sean wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Amelia Marshall opened the door. All he could do was stand there like an idiot, trying to find his tongue.
The woman wasn’t just lovely, as Eve had claimed—she was a knockout.
Amelia was shorter than her daughter, more petite. Her face was delicate with large brown eyes, her smile wide. She had a curvy figure made for a man’s hands to go roaming. Not his hands, those were taken.
But, holy God. It was damned easy to see where Eve got her beauty.
“Hello, Captain Tanner,” she said, voice smooth as whiskey. “Won’t you come in?”
“Sean, please.”
“Sean, I’m Amelia.” She nodded in acknowledgment and moved past him to hug her daughter as he stepped inside. “Hey, baby.”
“Mama. You’re looking good.” Eve waggled her brows. “Any luck with your preacher?”
“Maybe. A woman never tells all her secrets.” She waved them in, leading them to the cozy living room. “Pie with ice cream, and coffee? I’ve got apple and peach.”
“Peach sounds good to me, Mama. I’ll come help you. Sean?”
“Um, that’s fine with me, too.”
“Coming up.”
The ladies disappeared into the kitchen and he glanced around, taking in Amelia’s home. Every space was filled with fat pillows, knickknacks, and framed photos, most of Eve. The place was lived-in, love oozing from the very walls.
He’d had a home like this, once.
The women made a couple of trips bringing the coffee and pie, finally settling in with Eve next to him on the sofa, Amelia in a stuffed chair across from them.
“Eve told me about your accident at work. Are you feeling better?”
“Much, thank you.” He didn’t mention the persistent irritation in his lungs. Maybe he was trying to fend off a cold now, but he didn’t want to worry Eve. Shoveling a spoonful of pie and ice cream into his mouth, he groaned. “God, this is fantastic. You should open a bakery.”
She preened a bit under the praise, but waved him off with a laugh. “Except that I don’t know a thing about running one and I have an aversion to getting up hours before dawn to cook.”
“Good point.”
“But I do enjoy baking, taking treats to friends and neighbors.” She looked at her daughter. “Which reminds me, I took a pie to my new neighbor, the man who bought the Byrds’ old place, as a welcoming gesture. His name is George Sparks.”
“Really? That was nice of you. What’s he like?”
“He’s in his forties or so. Odd. As my mama would’ve said, he ‘ain’t our kind of folk.’ ”
“How so?”
Sean watched and listened to the exchange with interest.
Amelia took a sip of her coffee, and considered the question thoughtfully. “He’s friendly enough, but . . . cold. Like he’s wearing a mask, but it can’t hide the hollowness in his eyes. And he’s strange, too. No, that’s not quite right. There are things about the place that are strange. All those vehicles running up and down the road, but when I visit, there wasn’t a soul to be seen except Mr. Sparks. No people, no animals. Quiet as church on a Monday.”
“Weird.”
“Yes. And inside the house, it’s as bare as can be except the minimum of furniture. There was only one framed photograph of the man and some buddies a long time ago, when they were in the military. Desert Storm, he said.”
Sean’s neck prickled. But George Sparks? That wasn’t anyone he knew.
“Anyway, I was so uncomfortable when I left, I won’t be going back,” she concluded.
Eve looked relieved. “Good. Your instincts are always right.”
“Not always, baby girl. But this time, I think they are.” The older woman turned her attention to Sean. “How long have you and Eve been seeing each other?”
The fact that Eve could’ve satisfied her questions, and at some other time, was irrelevant. Amelia was feeling him out, and not bothering to hide it.
“Not long. This is new for us.”
“You two have worked together for years.”
“Yes, ma’am. I was married for most of them.” He pushed aside the ache in his mind and heart.
Some of the sharpness left her tone. “I was saddened to learn of your loss. No one should have to endure what you did.”
“Thank you.”
She paused, studying him as though trying to dissect him. “May I be blunt?”
“Mama—”
“No, it’s okay,” he said, taking Eve’s hand. “Please do, Amelia.”
“I truly applaud you for working so hard to get your life in order,” she said sincerely. “But surely you can understand my concern when it comes to Eve. No mother wants to see her child unhappy, and most of the time in the past few years when I’ve seen her that way, it has to do with you.”
“I’d never hurt Eve,” he protested, shaking his head.
“You won’t mean to. But you have a long way to go and I don’t want to see my daughter dragged down if you fall.” She glanced between Sean and Eve. “Having said that, I’ll give the two of you my full blessing and support—provided you’re not yanking her around,” she advised, addressing Sean.
“I’m not, I swear.”
“Good. Because if I find out you are? I’ll cut off your balls and use them as Christmas ornaments. We’re clear?”
“Mama!”
He nearly choked on a bite of pie. “Crystal.”
Amelia graced him with the full force of her angelic smile. “Fantastic. More pie?”
The next two weeks
passed swiftly, Eve savoring every moment of her days off with Sean. He’d survived her mother’s grilling—the recollection of Mama’s threat still amazed and embarrassed her—and they were none the worse for wear.
Things at work had been somewhat awkward between her and the other guys, but she thought perhaps it was all on her part. Nobody actually came out and addressed her and Sean sleeping together, though she was sure that Julian and Clay were now aware of the not-so-secret affair.
Eve weeping over Sean’s prone body at the fire might have been a tiny clue.
Peering into the bathroom mirror, she put the finishing touches on her makeup and hair, turned, and checked her ass in the mirror. Her best jeans accented her rear as well as any could. Not a perfect rear, but the only one she had. That it pleased Sean was all that mattered.
Sean. He was in for a big surprise at the charity auction tonight. Just imagining his reaction brought a grin to her face. In fact, all the “attached” men on her team had better be ready—their women weren’t going to allow any barely legal sweet thing to make off with their guys.
Finished getting ready, she scooped up her purse and keys. Time to meet the ladies for some fun hooting for the beefcake on parade.
She arrived at the community center about forty minutes before the start of the auction to get a good table. Not that she minded standing, but with Kat and Cori being in their third trimesters of pregnancy, those two needed to sit. Being early had its advantages; she found a good spot close to the front and sat down to wait for the others.
What were the men doing right now? She’d bet they were in the back getting ready, discussing the order they’d go onstage. Where to stand, how to drive the crowd wild. Stuff like that. She knew there hadn’t been a formal rehearsal because it wasn’t that fancy of an event. Just a bunch of people from the city of Sugarland and surrounding areas coming to support the cause of giving to the families of fallen firefighters. She’d heard that quite a few were expected to attend.
That prediction turned out to be correct, and then some. By the time Cori and Shea walked in together, the place was jumping, upbeat pop music blaring through the speakers.
“Thank goodness,” she said, hugging both women. “I’ve fended off half a dozen people who wanted our chairs. How are you guys?”
“Running late,” Cori said. “One of the doctors gave us a ride over so we could go home with our guys and not have an extra car, but he got called to an emergency first. But he got done, so here we are!”
“Where’s Kat?” Shea asked.
“Here!” The bubbly blonde pulled out a chair and sat heavily. “Damn, I hate being fat. Can’t move faster than a turtle.”
Cori nodded with a grimace. “Same here.”
Eve couldn’t help the tiny spark of envy. Even if she and Sean made it as a couple, the likelihood that he’d ever want more children . . . the probability was next to nil.
“Pregnant women glow,” Eve countered. “And neither of you is fat—you have baby bumps. That’s different.”
Shea leaned forward, expression conspiratorial. “Okay, I’ve been dying to know something. Does your being pregnant turn on your man?”
Both women laughed and rolled their eyes, but it was Kat who answered first.
“Oh, my God, are you kidding? Howard’s a machine!” A round of giggles met this announcement. “Seriously! You’d think no other man in the history of the universe has ever managed to impregnate a woman before, and he’s either strutting around bragging about it, or horny as hell. He wants it all the time.”
More giggles.
“So does Zack, but he’s afraid he’ll hurt me,” Cori put in. “If he doesn’t stop being so damned careful, I’m going to scream.”
The others cooed over how sweet that was of Zack, despite Cori’s annoyance. Shea wasn’t finished with the inquisition.
“What’s the first thing you’re dying to have, once you’re able?”
“Caffeine,” Cori answered. “Zack won’t even let me have half-caff.”
“A twenty-ounce margarita,” Kat said dreamily. “With an extra shot of tequila.” The others chimed in their sympathy.
Before Eve thought the better of it, she asked, “How does that work out, since Howard doesn’t drink?”
“Oh, he never has and isn’t tempted, so it’s not an issue. Why . . . ?”
The reason for Eve’s question connected and all three woman gazed at her knowingly. Eve sighed. “Never mind. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Shea patted her hand. “Listen, we know you and Sean have something going. All I want to say is, if he means the world to you, if you love him, do whatever is necessary to keep him safe and happy. Whatever it takes.”
Including keeping their home—should they ever make one together—booze free. She’d never have peace of mind knowing temptation was only one cabinet away from the man she loved.
Grace, Julian’s fiancée, showed up late and took a seat just as the lights dimmed and the crowd cheered. The interim city manager, who’d taken over the rest of the term from the late slimeball Forrest Prescott, acted as the MC, smiling and greeting everyone, thanking them for coming out to support a good cause.
The event would kick off with each “bachelor” strutting across the stage, though some of the men were very much taken, dancing a bit to the music so the ladies could get an eyeful of the goods and decide whom to bid on. Then each man would come out one by one and be auctioned for a date with the highest bidder. All in good fun.
The event kicked off with some of the guys from Stations Two and Three, to much whistling and cat-calls. Personally, Eve thought her team far surpassed the others in the hotness department, but they were okay. Things were just getting warmed up.
When their men began to parade out to the throbbing tempo, shucking coats and baring buff chests and torsos, the heat level skyrocketed. Tommy went first, looking so much like Brad Pitt it was eerie, despite the long scar on his face from the warehouse collapse. Julian was next, a smooth, dark-haired Latin lover who had Grace nearly panting, along with everyone else. Then sweet, sexy Zack, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, but took it with good-natured humor.
Clay was a hit with his good-looking cowboy charm, and Eve had no doubt he’d score a gorgeous date. Six-Pack proved he still lived up to his nickname when his coat came off, revealing a ripped body that was simply stunning. Kat could do much worse than having this man wanting it all the time, as she’d said. Lucky girl. But when Sean came out . . .
Eve forgot anyone else existed. Forgot to breathe. As far as she was concerned, no man in the room could light a candle next to him, not even with a flame-thrower. He might be the oldest man on the stage, but he was so incredibly handsome. Tall and lean with those green eyes sparkling under the lights, his smile wide as he hammed it up for the audience, flexing his rather nice biceps. And it could have been her imagination, but it seemed the audience cheered louder for him than for any of the others.
God, he’d come so far. Tears pricked her eyes as she yelled the loudest of all.
Except for a stacked blond chick nearby who was really going nuts, jumping up and down, boobs bouncing like basketballs. Eve set her jaw. Breast-Enhancement Barbie could bid as high as she wanted.
No way in hell was she going to win.
Sean stood under the hot lights, thankful he couldn’t see much of the wild audience of screeching women. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he flexed his muscles.
I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this. Jesus, I hope no one’s laughing at me.
What difference did it make? He was here, and it was for charity. He repeated that mantra a few times, but the thirty seconds or so still seemed like an hour. When at last he was given the signal to exit, he beat a path to hide back behind the curtain.
His team was waiting to pound his back and give him a ribbing, but he didn’t mind that part. These guys he knew. They calmed and grounded him more than they realized.
; “Good job, man,” Six-Pack said, and the rest agreed.
“God, do we have to go out there again? Can’t they just bid without us?”
“Nope, they gotta see us. Too many guys to remember our names.”
“Can’t I put on my shirt?”
Tommy snorted. “You’re forty-three, not eighty. Chill.”
“Wonderful.”
Clay put an arm around him. “It ain’t so bad, Cap. Women eat up this shit, huh? Guaranteed nooky if you play your cards right.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to retort that he had all the nooky he wanted, thank you very much, and then he thought the better of it. Considering.
Five minutes later, they were all called back to the stage for the lineup. Sean pasted on a smile and took his place in front of the crowd again, wondering how in the hell rock stars and other performers dealt with screaming people wanting a piece of them. He figured he was lucky that this would be the closest he’d ever get to finding out.
The city manager had each of them step forward when he called their name once again, quickly going down the line. Sean’s turn came and he stepped out of line, scanning the sea of blurry faces, looking for Eve. Still hard to see much, even though the dance lights had quit flashing. He resumed his spot in line and kept looking—and froze.
There. To one side of the room, next to the wall. A tall, lean man standing in the shadows. Long blond hair. The man’s gaze seemed to be locked on Sean, though it was impossible to actually tell. He was too far away, the crowd separating them, and there were other guys standing near Sean. The man could be staring at any of them.
But a chill chased over his skin as the man ducked his head. Turned and disappeared into the mass of bodies, heading toward the exit.
Sean’s heart pounded and his legs felt like lead. The man couldn’t be Jesse. What business would he have in Sugarland?
