CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Eva dreamed of being chased through town square by the Beautification Committee and their pink binders. She tried to tell them that she was working on her issues, that once she took care of this last problem she could finally start to live a normal life. But no one could hear her over Bruce Oakleigh’s shouts about true love and non-disclosure agreements.
When Donovan’s phone rang at six, he told the caller he was going to put them under house arrest if this wasn’t a real emergency. When they called back at 6:07, he reluctantly dragged himself out from under the covers. Eva yawned and burrowed further under the pillows.
She woke again minutes later when Donovan prodded her with a set of car keys. “You don’t have to get up, baby. I’m just showing you the keys to my SUV are right here on the nightstand. If I can’t stop the cold brew shitstorm at Overly Caffeinated and get back in bed with you, you can take my truck home whenever you want. Okay?”
“Mmm-kay.”
“Eva, I need to know that you’re at least partially awake and hearing me.”
“Mmm-kay, Sheriff Sexy. I’m probably going to go through all your stuff while you’re gone.”
“That’s fine. My secrets are your secrets.” He slapped her on the butt, dropped a kiss on the back of her neck, and was gone.
The front door opened and then closed, and Eva pretended the words didn’t bother her. He didn’t mean it as a dig—he couldn’t know—but it still got under her skin. Wide awake and now guilty, Eva decided to start her day by discovering where Donovan kept his coffee stash.
She crawled out of bed and dragged on one of the clean t-shirts she found neatly hanging in the walk-in closet off the bathroom. On her way back through the bedroom, the glitter of something on top of his dresser caught her eye. Her snooping instincts insisted she get a closer look.
She’d seen him put his wallet and gun on top of the dresser. An ingrained habit, it seemed. It was a spot he visited every day. A spot where his most important things went. On the back of the dresser was a framed photo of a couple—his parents, she assumed—mugging for the camera. Both had blond hair and the kind of tans that spoke of outdoor living. She wore a sheriff’s uniform while he was dressed in a Blue Moon Fire Department t-shirt.
And in front of that frame was a comb. Her comb. She’d worn it in her hair at Gia’s wedding. She’d loved the rose quartz stones and gold filigree. Aurora had wanted to play with it at the reception, so she’d taken it out. She hadn’t realized until this second that she’d never gotten it back.
Donovan had found it and kept it. Not only that, but he’d put it in a place that he’d see it every day.
Eva sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the comb in her hands. Inexplicably, tears pricked her eyes.
“He means every damn word,” she whispered to herself. Donovan Cardona loved her. The current her. The messy, distracted, hot mess of a woman that she was today.
She was sitting in the bedroom of a man who loved her without reason, without history. Where she’d spent her entire life trying to prove herself worthy of love, he’d simply loved. More than that, he trusted his heart without questioning whether or not it was right.
And just like that, the broken pieces of a little girl’s heart knit together a little tighter.
She looked around the room where she’d spent a few hours of her life that she’d remember forever. The moody gray walls, the plush carpeting, the heavy, dark furniture. She wanted this. She wanted this with him. And she owed it to Donovan to try to be the person he saw her as. Honest, open, and head over heels for him.
She was loved.
Eva caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror and saw happiness, bone-deep.
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As cheerful as she’d ever been at seven a.m., Eva pulled up outside Overly Caffeinated and was disappointed to find that whatever ruckus had taken place at the café was now settled. Donovan was nowhere to be seen, and the usual morning rush was in full swing.
Well, since she was here it would be a shame to leave without indulging, she mused.
Eva slid out from behind the wheel and followed her nose in the direction of caffeine.
The crowd inside was a dapper blur of tie-dye, hand-knit cardigans, and varying desperation for coffee. Eva kept herself entertained in line by revisiting the highlights of last night with her writer’s mind. Had she written it herself, it couldn’t have been better. They’d connected on a level that, until now, only her characters had been able to find.
And that was only a little bit terrifying. Okay. A lot bit. Eva vacillated between enjoying the ultimate female satisfaction and the terror that she was about to step off solid ground into an abyss.
“What can I get you, Naked in Town?” The girl behind the counter, an ethereal third generation Woodstock-wannabe, asked with all the interest of a robot.
Her counterpart, a dark-haired guy with an eyebrow ring and about a quarter mile of ink visible on his skinny arm, snorted. “Naked in Town is old news. She’s the sheriff’s girlfriend,” he said, elbowing the blonde out of the way.
“How did you—”
But he was shaking his head. “It’s Blue Moon. We know everything. Plus, there was a special edition of The Weekly Monthly Moon this morning. You want your usual?”
Eva had no idea what her usual was since she had the tendency to try new things every other time she came in here. “Sure,” she shrugged.
“You get the law enforcement girlfriend’s discount,” he said, taking five percent off her total.
“Uh, thanks?”
“If you guys get married, it goes up to ten percent,” he promised. “Next.”
Eva handed over the cash and slipped out of line to admire the glass case of sinful pastries and pretend the guy hadn’t just mentioned marriage.
“Well, don’t you look chipper today?” Ellery, clutching her black matte thermal mug, eyed Eva from her seat by the pastries.
“Should I be seen talking to you?” Eva whispered. “Or will the B.C. run us both out of town?”
Ellery’s black lips curved. “I work for your brother-in-law in your front yard. I think we can come up with an excuse for chatting.”
“Here you go, sweetie.” Ellery’s fiancé swooped in with a flakey croissant drizzled with chocolate.
“Awh, thanks, hubby-to-be,” Ellery grinned up at him.
“Hey, Mason,” Eva greeted him. She still found the relationship fascinating. Goth princess Ellery was marrying number-cruncher Mason with his gray suits and his nerdy glasses. It was adorable, even if the match was completely incomprehensible.
“Oh, good morning, Eva,” Mason smiled. “Will you and your sisters be attending the wedding?”
After dating Emma in L.A., Mason had been an instrument wielded by the diabolical Beautification Committee to cement her sister’s decision to date Nikolai. In the midst of the subterfuge, Mason had fallen hard for Ellery.
“We wouldn’t miss it, and I believe I’ll be bringing a plus one if that’s okay?”
Ellery’s black lips stretched wider. “The sheriff is already on the guest list, but I’ll make sure he’s at your coffin.”
Eva blinked. “Coffin?”
“We’re using pine coffins as reception tables,” Mason said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Of course you are,” Eva said.
“Hey, weren’t you wearing that last night?” Ellery asked, frowning at Eva’s outfit. “And isn’t that Sheriff Cardona’s SUV you drove up in?”
“I won’t comment on your coffin tables if you don’t comment on my walk of shame.”
“Deal.” Ellery beamed, slipping her arm through Mason’s.
Eva waved the happy couple off and stole their table. It offered her a view of the hustle and bustle coming in through the door. Her drink turned out to be a soy cinnamon latte and good enough that she considered making it her official usual.
Everyone seemed to be sane today. A chorus of pleases and thank yous echoed from the cash register. There were smiles all around as caffeine surged through systems. It was as if the momentary insanity that had the town in its grip had passed and everyone was back to normal.
Eva waved to Rainbow Berkowicz as the woman picked up her decaf and loaded it with enough sugar to choke a horse. She smiled at Ernest Washington who was huddled at a table with the ancient Old Man Carson. The two eyed up every pretty girl who walked into the shop and then went back to arguing about football.
She loved it here. The vibrant community had accepted her with open arms. It was something she’d been seeking, subconsciously, since she was a child. That easy acceptance, that genuine interest. She belonged here, and she was starting to think that maybe she belonged here with Donovan.
The front door chimed again, and Eva grinned when she recognized her father and Phoebe. The delight on Franklin’s face when he spotted her warmed her already full-to-bursting heart.
He hurried over and dropped a kiss on Eva’s cheek. “There’s my pretty girl,” he said.
“Phoebe, don’t you make this poor man coffee in the mornings?” Eva teased.
“We’re treating each other after a late night,” Phoebe announced, pretty in her cozy purple turtleneck. Her cheeks carried a flush that didn’t have anything to do with the morning chill.
“Don’t tell me you two are falling victim to the planetary crossing,” Eva laughed.
“Oh, no! Not at all. This was just our normal Naked Wednesday,” Phoebe said, smiling up at her husband.
Franklin cleared his throat guiltily. “I think I’ll just go get our coffees,” he said, all innocence.
Eva laughed when she watched him practically skip to the counter.
“You look happy,” Eva told Phoebe.
“You’re looking rather pleased yourself,” Phoebe said, watching her shrewdly. “So pleased that your incredibly observant and intelligent stepmother would be willing to bet that you had a late night yourself.”
Eva blushed scarlet and picked up her coffee to give her hands something to do. “There may have been a few late hours,” she admitted.
Phoebe drummed her finger tips together like a diabolical mastermind. “I am so happy to hear that. Donovan I’m assuming. Oh, I just knew you two would find each other.”
“You could have given me a head’s up!”
“Sweetheart, I was one of the founding members of the Beautification Committee. Shoving romance into someone’s face rarely works.”
“You were?” This was news to Eva.
“Another story for another time,” Phoebe promised. “Now, back to you and your front-page story on The Weekly Monthly Moon.”
“I need to see this paper,” Eva muttered, wondering exactly how much trouble she was going to be in when the Beautification Committee found out she’d jumped head first into relationship territory. “Anyway, as you so astutely guessed, it is Donovan and we did have a late night, and he is just…” She trailed off, at a loss for words.
“Isn’t he though?” Phoebe said, understanding exactly what Eva meant. “I’ve known that boy as long as my own, and he is one of the best this world has to offer. And you know what?”
Eva leaned forward. “What?”
“You’re pretty spectacular yourself. Don’t you forget that and get all caught up in comparing yourself to Donovan’s perfection. He had a solid upbringing, the best parents, and there was no room for self-doubt. You took some lumps when you were younger and had to work for your confidence, your independence. Don’t discount that work. You’ve earned every inch of where you are today.”
“How did you know that I was…”
“Feeling a little insecure?” Phoebe grinned, her blue eyes lighting up behind her glasses. “I’m your stepmother, and I love you to the moon and back. And I would feel exactly the same way in your position. You’re a wonderful, amazing, talented, smart woman, Eva. Don’t forget that.”
Eva leaned across the tiny table and squeezed Phoebe’s hand. “You know I love you, right?”
Phoebe grinned. “As my boys used to say until it drove me insane and I threatened to cut the internet to the house, ‘duh!’”
Franklin returned with two coffees and a kiss on the cheek for each of them. “Well, my lovely ladies, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get to the restaurant.”
Phoebe rose. “And I need to get to Gia’s so I can help her with her bookkeeping.”
“Is she catching on yet?” Eva asked.
Phoebe laughed. “We really use it as an excuse to eat pie and play with Lydia. I don’t think your sister is going to be interested in learning exactly what constitutes a business expense or when quarterly taxes are due.”
“Well, enjoy your pie, your coffee, and your grandbaby,” Eva said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “And you, my fine father, have a beautiful day.”
“I don’t see how it could get better,” Franklin said, cheerfully. “Dinner soon. Or lunch. Come by the restaurant.”
Eva waved them off and decided she might as well get home, shower, and test how unbelievable sex affected her writing. She gathered her things and headed out the door into the crisp autumn morning.
She was clutching her latte and navigating the sidewalk traffic when someone called her name. Ice formed in her belly, and every muscle tensed before she turned around to face the past.
“Hello, mother,” Eva said evenly.