Liz Talley - Sweet Southern Nights

Their eyes met, their breaths mingled.

Jake gave her a triumphant smile.

Then he tipped her up, setting her in her original spot. He grabbed his beer and took a swig, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “There.”

Eva knew her eyes were as wide as the pepperoni pieces on the pizza slice she’d abandoned. “What the hell was that?”

Jake opened the box and set another two slices on his plate. “That was correcting what happened yesterday.”

Eva pulled the plate from his hands.

“Hey,” he said.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then pretend it wasn’t anything more than blowing your nose.”

“It was way better than blowing my nose, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe. I’m not one of your bimbos. I’m not the sort of girl you can casually tip into your lap and maul, you arrogant, self-centered...ass.”

“Eva,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Now, don’t go getting mad. It was merely payback. You kissed me. I kissed you. Now we’re even.”

“Even?” she repeated, her hands still shaking even as the desire shriveled up like the fern his sister had given her as a housewarming gift. “You are insane.”

Jake laughed. “Maybe so, but at least you won’t walk around town thinking I’m bad at kissing. I mean, if we’re gonna kiss, we might as well do it right. That’s all I was thinking.”

She pressed her hand against her lips and then slugged him.

“Ouch,” he said, ducking her next swing.

“Get out,” she said, feeling overly dramatic, but not caring enough to stop or calm herself.

Jake thought the kiss was no big deal. Of course he did. He went around having sex if the wind blew right—a kiss might as well be a handshake to him.

But it wasn’t to her. That kiss hadn’t been anything like the chaste, embarrassing thing she’d given him yesterday. No, that kiss had been toe-curling, panty-dropping, pure ecstasy, and it had awoken a hunger that hadn’t even poked its head out of its cage yesterday.

Full-on, body-quaking desire.

Absolute, bone-jarring lust.

Something she couldn’t hide with a man like Jake.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning away from her. “Stop making it something it’s not.”

“You stupid, big-headed idiot,” she said, pushing off the couch, standing over him.

“Come on, Eva. Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she growled.

“God, you’re acting like a normal woman.”

“I am a normal woman, you creep. You can’t do what you just did.”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes focused on her hands.

“Because.”

“Because?”

Eva backed away from him. “You and I both know why I’m pissed. Because you turned that into something. You...” She couldn’t say it.

A few seconds ticked by.

“I made you want me,” he finished, the teasing gone from his voice.

“Yes. Why did you do that? God, Jake.” Eva backed away, shoving her glasses up her nose, feeling as if she wanted to run to her room, slam the door and lock him out. Physically she could do that, but that would be childish...and he’d still be in her head anyway. She’d still taste him on her lips.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying... I don’t know why I did that. I’ve been feeling strange when I’m around you lately.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re Eva. I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable around you. I shouldn’t notice your lips, the way your boobs look in a tight T-shirt. I shouldn’t think about...” He stopped, his face registering that he hadn’t meant to be so honest.

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and getting off the couch. “I’ll go.”

She watched him, not knowing what to do. Things had gotten out of control.

Jake set his hand on the doorknob, turning back to her. “I’ll see you Monday, right?”

Eva shook her head. “Dutch is covering for me. I have to go to New Orleans for family business.”

“Then tomorrow? Hilda’s birthday party?”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure if she was going. She had to go to Baton Rouge and get some things for Charlie so she could turn her girly guest bedroom into something a little boy would feel comfy in. Plus, the lady from CPS was coming over to do an inspection and meet her.

So much in her life was about to change, and to top it off, so had her relationship with Jake.

And that scared her because now he knew...somewhere deep down he had to know how she felt. It had been in her kiss.

“Don’t be mad at me, Eva. I didn’t know it would turn into that.”

And then Jake slipped out the door into the fading day.

Leaving her wanting...leaving her knowing that she could never be the same woman she’d been just days ago.

CHAPTER SIX

JAKE WALKED INTO his cousin Hilda’s house and nearly stepped on his sister, who looked to be hiding in the foyer’s coat closet.

“What the hell?” he whispered, righting himself against the door frame of the closet.

“Shh!” Abigail said, putting a finger to her lips. “Cal’s mother is in there—” she jabbed a finger toward the formal dining room Hilda rarely used “—telling Violet I was the one who made Cal leave in the first place.”

“What?”

“Shh!”

“But—” he started before Abigail cupped a hand over his mouth.

“I know, but I still want to hear the conversation since it’s about me.” Abigail cocked her left ear toward the dining room. Jake grew still and listened, too.

“Well, after working on the Laurel Woods Art Fest committee with her, my opinion has certainly changed,” someone said. Jake was almost certain it was Violet Joyner, the Magnolia Bend First Baptist Church’s pastor’s wife. Sounded like someone with a stick up her ass, and Violet always fit that description.

“What do you mean?” Minnie Orgeron, Abigail’s former mother-in-law, asked.

“Well, you’ll never believe how crassly Abigail behaved, running around with that hippie guy, acting positively like a heathen. Never would have thought it of the daughter of a minister, but you never know with people. Of course they are Presbyterian.”

Abigail’s eyes widened and she stifled a laugh.

Minnie sighed. “I agree, Violet. What a person sees on the surface is one thing, but the inside is quite another.”

Jake whispered, “Jeez, don’t they know heathens have more fun?”

“I thought that was blondes?” Abigail whispered back.

“Yeah—blond heathens have double the fun.”

“I know,” Abigail said, wiggling her eyebrows obviously because her new fiancé was very blond and quite possibly a heathen.

“Why are you letting those old hussies get away with talking bad about you?” he whispered, trying to peer out behind the door.

“Because I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Abigail said with a giggle. Then she stepped out of the closet and shut the door loudly before sashaying into the dining room.

“Oh, hello, ladies,” Abigail trilled. “Have either of you seen Hilda? My mama wants to cut the cake soon.”

Jake could almost feel the two old gossips’ guilt slink past him. Five seconds later the ladies themselves slunk past him, giving him a quick hello, before trotting off toward the back patio, where Hilda’s seventieth birthday party was in full swing. Of course, no one would mention that they’d been celebrating her seventieth birthday for the past three years.

Abigail sauntered by, slapping him on the butt and giving him a knowing grin. Jake laughed.

To think his once socially conscious, uptight sister got a thrill about being gossiped about made his heart warm. Yeah, Leif Lively and love had made Abigail a lot more pleasurable to be around.