Liz Talley - Sweet Southern Nights

“But we do work together.”

Chris took his hand and delivered a bone-crushing handshake. “I’d say it was good to meet you, but you’ve already pissed me off.”

“Oh, come on.” Eva punched him in the biceps again. “Be a sport. No one expects a guy like you to dote on dahlias.”

Chris managed a grin that nearly cracked his face. Like the Tin Man, he probably needed some oil. “Dahlias are my weakness. Okay, what the hell. Bygones and all that.”

Jake pulled his hand back and tried not to wince at the throbbing pain that the man’s handshake had induced. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Chris jerked his head toward the bike. “Gotta run. Guys are waiting.”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Eva said, lifting on her tiptoes. Chris bent down so she could buss his granite jaw with a kiss.

Then with a slap on her ass, Chris straddled his hog and fired it up. “Later.”

Both Jake and Eva turned and watched him roll out.

“What was that all about?” Jake asked, turning toward his friend.

“Just stuff,” Eva said with a shrug of her shoulders, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. She used her fake happy voice. Something was wrong, but she wasn’t the type to lay her cards on the table. He’d find out...eventually.

“Worried me for a moment. Looked intense.”

Eva made a face. “Jeez, Jake, you think you have to save the world, don’t you? I’m not some weak female who needs the tough Jake Beauchamp rescuing her.”

“I know. And I don’t treat you that way. You know that. But you’d do the same for me.”

She tilted her head and it made her look cute. Like a teenager. He liked when she did that. “I don’t interfere with you and what you do in a parking lot anymore. Remember?”

Jake laughed. “It was a bucket list thing.”

“Twins?”

He wasn’t going to admit they’d just been goofing off and not really having a three-way. He’d become legendary after Eva and Monk Lewis had caught him with the Bertrand twins messing around in the back of his pickup truck. Okay, so the twins had stripped down to their underwear and they’d all been a little drunk. The whole thing had ended there, and he’d never even scored with either one of them that night...but Eva didn’t know that. “It’s every guy’s fantasy.”

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“But you love me anyway,” he said, slinging an arm around her neck and tugging her into a noogie.

“Stop, Jake, you’re messing up my hair,” she shrieked, elbowing him in the ribs, trying to keep hold of her beer.

He let her go, grinning at her. Her slick-backed hair stuck up in big mounds. “Looks better.”

She tugged the rubber band from her hair, and thick brown locks tumbled around her shoulders. “Now look what you did. I don’t have a brush with me.”

Her hair had honey highlights that caught in the parking lot lights. She looked pretty with her hair down, softer and more like a woman. “I like it like that. You should wear it down more often.”

Eva’s lips turned down. “Gets in the way.”

“But it makes you look pretty. Keep it down. You’ll have a better chance of getting lucky tonight.” Even as he said the words, he wanted to reach out and snatch them back. Eva was his friend, but even so, he didn’t like the idea of her with another guy. Which was stupid.

She snorted. “With who? Do you ever look past the bimbos in Ray-Ray’s? It ain’t exactly brimming with available guys...who have all their teeth.”

“Then why are you here?”

Eva started toward the entrance. “Because I’m tired of watching reruns. Nothing on TV and Jenny wanted to get out. She’s on the rebound. The banker broke up with her.”

Jake rubbed his hands together. “Perfect.”

Eva turned around and pressed a hand into his chest. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you can be a nice guy, right? Dance with her. Buy her drinks. But don’t prey on her, Jake.”

Something in her tone punched him in the solar plexus. “That’s what you think of me? Jesus, Eva, I don’t screw everything in a skirt.”

“No, you screw everything in a skirt, pants and shorts. I’ve been around you for a few years. I know you.” That tone again. Eva thought he was nothing more than a gigolo, spreading himself around town. But he wasn’t. Well, not really. He’d never sleep with someone who couldn’t go toe-to-toe with him.

For the first time in forever, he felt embarrassed about the way he lived his life. At the hands of Eva. She never made him feel lacking. Eva was always on his side.

Her censure surprised him.

“Maybe you don’t really know me,” he said, his words soft as the night descending around them. Eva’s face glowed in the light cast from above them. She looked so different with her hair down that he wanted to touch her.

Which freaked him the hell out.

This was Eva, his best bud. The person who complained about him using all the toothpaste and eating all the yogurt. The woman who left a nest of hair in the drain and beat him at Scrabble every single time they played at the station. This was the one woman he’d never let himself have the slightest attraction for.

So, yeah, freaked out.

Eva bit her bottom lip, and Jake found himself really looking at her lips for the first time. They were perfectly proportioned—not too big, but not thin. Pretty lips covered in a creamy lipstick the color of plums.

Weird.

“I’m not trying to be mean, Jake. You know I love ya, dude, but just give Jenny some space. She’d go home with you tonight, but she doesn’t need that right now. You know?”

“I wasn’t planning on taking her home. I was joking when I rubbed my hands together. You know what a joke is, right?” He sounded petulant. Like a kid who’d asked for dessert and got a big fat no.

Eva smiled then. A strained smile but a smile. “Sure, Jake. I’m acquainted with jokes. Just last week there was that snake in my bed. Ha-ha.”

“That snake was cute. Admit it,” he said.

“Only you would think a snake was cute.” She opened the door and slid inside Ray-Ray’s, leaving him outside contemplating the odd dynamics that had just occurred between them. Or maybe it wasn’t between them . Maybe it was him.

Something he couldn’t explain had ricocheted out of nowhere and popped him right in the face.

And he didn’t like it.

He wanted a take-back because he didn’t want to see Eva as anything other than what he’d always seen her as—his bud. Sure, he knew she was attractive. He hadn’t missed that. Pretty obvious. But from day one, he had shifted her into a sort of “family” slot.

But something had happened just a minute ago.

No. It was just a trick of the light or something—it had to be. Nothing had changed. Eva was Eva. And he was the same as he’d always been.

Mostly.

So he felt itchy in his skin and maybe dissatisfied with his life. That wasn’t new. He went through periods of melancholy...of dwelling on what if .

What if he’d gone to law school?

What if he hadn’t tried to avoid that deer?

What if Clint hadn’t ended up in a wheelchair?

What if Angela hadn’t died?

What if he didn’t live in this godforsaken town anymore?

Yeah, his life was a pile of what-ifs.

CHAPTER THREE

EVA HANDED THE stack of trendy jeans to Fancy Beauchamp. “Here, Mrs. Beauchamp. These go on that table up front.”

Frances “Fancy” Beauchamp was the chairman of the Ladies Auxiliary Annual Rummage Sale to benefit the local women’s shelter. She had hair the color of rhubarb, a smile as wide as her son Jake’s and plenty of pluck to temper her image as the perfect pastor’s wife. “Thank you, darlin’,” she said, taking the jeans. “And if you keep calling me Mrs. Beauchamp, I’m going to go lookin’ for my mother-in-law. We don’t need that battle-ax around today.”