Tracy Kelleher - It's All About Eve

She swiveled around.

“It’s getting dark. I’ll walk you across the street to the pool parking lot.” He grabbed the pizza box off the bar.

“No, that’s all right. I walked.”

“Then I’ll give you a lift. I’m parked out back.” Carter pointed with his thumb toward the door at the rear of the bar. His green eyes beckoned.

And Eve wondered why this seriously sexy man was offering to drive her home, rather than rushing back to a beautiful woman with a brand-new sheer camisole. Maybe it was just the Good Samaritan attitude that went along with being a small-town cop? It must be hell on a love life, she thought. “You sure it’s not out of your way?” Even though the sun was going down, it would still be a hot mile-or-so walk home.

“I live in town, too, so it’s no big deal.”

“You sure? First a free meal. Now a ride. I’m overwhelmed.” She fell in step as they walked to the exit.

“Don’t be so hasty. You haven’t seen my car.” Carter held open the back door.

She felt the temperature difference as soon they stepped outside. From arctic air-conditioning, they’d entered a tropical soup. She wiped the beads of sweat that instantly formed on her forehead. “If it’s got four wheels and air conditioning, I’ll take it.”

“On a good day I can guarantee the four wheels.” Carter stopped in front of a decrepit Toyota truck.

Eve dubiously surveyed the vehicle. She thought it was red, but given the rust, she wasn’t sure. It looked as if duct tape and supreme intervention were the only things holding the bumper to the front end. “I take it this is not an official cop car.” She gingerly pushed down on the handle to the passenger-side door. Nothing happened.

“It’s this cop’s car. And give it a good yank,” he said as he bounded into the driver’s side.

Eve gave it a good yank. The door gave way. So did the handle. She shook her head and stepped tentatively on the running board. “Is this thing going to hold me?”

“Maybe I should have warned you to stop with two pieces of pizza.” He leaned over and scooped a copy of the New York Times and a cell phone off the seat. He threw them in the bed of the truck, which was covered by a white truck cap.

Eve looked at the cracked seat. “Do I need to get shots before entering?” She clambered up and looked for the seatbelt shoulder strap. She wasn’t taking any chances.

“Hold this on your lap, would you?” He passed her the pizza box.

Eve scrunched her face at the thick layer of dust covering the dashboard. “I can see why you don’t want to put it on any available surface.” She gave him the door handle in exchange for the box.

He threw it in the back along with the newspaper and the cell phone.

Eve turned around, but decided not to investigate too closely. “Handy filing system you got there.”

Carter put his keys in the ignition and stopped. “On second thought. Hand over the pizza.” She did. He tossed it in the back where it thudded silently. “There. It’s now filed under ‘B.”’

She was confused. “‘B’? I would have thought ‘P’ for pizza.”

He turned and grinned at her sideways. “‘B’ for ‘bet.’ And I think it’s time I collected.”

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