Sweet Southern Nights. Liz Talley

Sweet Southern Nights - Liz  Talley


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Jake had grabbed her boob. It was an accident, a by-product of him acting like a silly little boy. No big deal.

      Jake gave a small chuckle. “Oops.”

      “Yeah,” she said, dropping her gaze. “My fault.”

      “No, it wasn’t. I was the one who grabbed you.”

      Eva wanted to forget it. Pretend it hadn’t happened, so she looked at the forgotten knee-high in his hand. “If I slide by you, do you promise not to put that on me?”

      He looked down at the stocking and then back up with a twinkle in his eye. “Why don’t you try and see?”

      Eva gave him a flat look. “Please. Like I trust you.”

      He merely smiled, his gaze actually dropping to her lips. She resisted the urge to lick them. And then this weird thing happened.

      She’d been in some dangerous situations, heated situations that caused frissons of alarm to raise the hair on her neck.

      This was how she felt now. Crazy electrical.

      Eva moved forward slowly, placing her hand on the door handle, her eyes on Jake as she inched very, very slowly past him. He didn’t move, but his gaze held hers, mischievousness fading as something hot took over.

      Something Eva had wanted for a long time...ever since Jake had come out of the shower at the station, towel looped around his lean hips, droplets of water dotting his chest, the first week she’d worked for the Magnolia Bend FD.

      Carefully, she started inching the door open. She’d put about five inches between the metal door and frame when Jake leaned back on the door, slamming it shut.

      “Don’t,” she said, narrowing her eyes as he turned his right shoulder in, blocking her escape, lifting the hosiery.

      He grinned and then tossed the stocking over his shoulder.

      She gave a nervous laugh.

      And then he moved, slamming into her. Not hard. But emphatic.

      Her brain received the signals, processing the sexual energy slaking off Jake. He reached up, his hand brushing her ear. He was going to kiss her. Finally.

      So Eva made it easy for him. She raised onto her toes, closed her eyes and met him halfway.

      Her first thought was he tasted like spearmint gum. Her second thought was to wonder why he tugged at her hair. Her third thought was oh, shit.

      Because Jake hadn’t been about to kiss her...he’d been about to give her a trademark noogie.

      But being Jake, he didn’t gasp in outrage, ripping her from him.

      No.

      Jake Beauchamp would never embarrass a lady like that. He dropped his hand and made his lips soft.

      Eva dropped down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, half of her reveling in the small taste of the man she loved. The other half of her praying the earth would open beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

      Surely that could happen, right?

      Surely God would have pity on a fool who’d mistakenly kissed the devil out of a man against the wall of the First Presbyterian Church of Magnolia Bend...when he’d only been about to give her a noogie.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      JAKE ENTERED THE Tenth Annual Rummage Sale to benefit the Magnolia Bend Women’s Home like a man hunted. Not because he didn’t want to be there supporting his mama and her pet project early on a Saturday morning, but because after yesterday afternoon’s incident with Eva, he didn’t want to face the discomfort he knew would be between them.

      Eva had kissed him.

      And though at first he’d been shocked to the toes of his Brooks running shoes, he’d settled into it and enjoyed all one point seven seconds of the kiss.

      But then Eva had stopped kissing him, wiping her mouth and looking horrified.

      As though she’d walked into junior high naked.

      Plain appalled.

      He’d stepped back and arched an eyebrow and simply said, “Wow.”

      She’d looked as if she might choke, her face flooding with color, her eyes bulging, hands fluttering at her side. She’d managed an “excuse me” before bolting through the door he’d shut, leaving him behind not knowing how to handle what had just happened.

      “Hey, Jake,” his brother Matt called, waving from behind the tables set up with cash registers donated by Maggio’s Office Supply store, according to the sign that said as much. “I need more of this paper tape. Can you grab Ma and see where she put the supplies?”

      Jake waved a hand in affirmation, scanning the crowded hall filled with racks of coats, tables of folded jeans and shelves holding knickknacks. He saw his sister and her fiancé, Leif, his niece Birdie, who was walking around selling raffle tickets for a quilt stitched by his aunt Opal, and his brother John’s wife, Shelby, who was hand-selling some strappy shoes to Merlene Dibbles, who had no business wearing anything strappy. His father swilled coffee at the refreshment table with several other men, shooting the breeze, no doubt discussing the likelihood of St. George’s football team making the playoffs again. But he didn’t see his mother.

      And he didn’t see Eva.

      Maybe she hadn’t come. She hadn’t answered any texts or phone calls he made from Ray-Ray’s last night. Which meant she was avoiding him. Which meant the ball was in his court. And he didn’t know how to handle this situation other than to get it out in the open and talk about it. Wasn’t going to go away. And since their shift started Monday at five o’clock in the evening, they couldn’t continue avoiding it.

      He looked at Matt, who’d just finished checking out several ladies carrying totes provided by First Magnolia Bank. “Hey, where’s Mom?”

      Matt didn’t look up. “Dunno. If I did, I wouldn’t need you to get me the paper.”

      “Right.” Jake made his way down the housewares aisle, smiling at people he’d known forever plus a day, almost colliding with a cute three-year-old escapee who was making for the toy section with the harried mother following behind. He finally made it to his dad.

      “And that’s why we’ll struggle on offense. Gary’s got to get that o-line beefed up. Feed those boys,” Dan Beauchamp said before slapping him on the back. “Right, son?”

      “Uh, right. Hey, where’s Mom?”

      His dad shrugged. “Saw her head to the kitchen with Eva.”

      Dread pinged inside Jake. He knew what he had to do, but he liked talking about emotions just as much as every other man liked talking about emotions...which meant not at all.

      Thing was he’d liked kissing Eva, and that was bad news. From the very beginning, when he’d found out that the chief had hired a woman in order to diversify the department, he’d vowed to leave her the hell alone. Every man knew you didn’t shit where you ate. Or whatever that saying was. So before he’d even met Eva, he’d vowed to not go there. When all the other guys hemmed and hawed about sharing a shift with her, he’d stepped up. Hell, he liked the idea of having someone different to shoot the shit with. Moon wore him out with talk of hunting everything that moved, and Martin wanted to play dominos nonstop. He figured having a woman around would be interesting. And Jake liked interesting.

      But then Eva had walked into the station with her dark hair braided, face free of makeup, a confident smile in place, and he’d felt shell-shocked. This wasn’t the way a firefighter should look, so...so pretty. Wasn’t as if she was delicate or girly, either. Quite the contrary, Eva was athletic, fit, full of vitality. Her squared jaw gave her a sexiness he wasn’t supposed to notice, and she looked mighty


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