Sweet Southern Nights. Liz Talley
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for prostitution. After Claren sobered up enough to remember she had a kid, the police went to her apartment and found Charlie with a neighbor, crying and wearing dirty clothes. CPS stepped in, placing him in a temporary foster home, after contacting Claren’s elderly parents in Ohio. Finally, a foster care worker called Chris, but because he was scheduled to spend a month in France doing research on some cross-pollination genetics thing with roses, he couldn’t step up to take Charlie. So that left...
Yeah.
She had to be in court at nine o’clock Monday morning when Claren appeared before the judge. But before that, the CPS agent would be coming to her house for an inspection and background check on Sunday so she could take temporary custody of Charlie.
Eva had no experience in taking care of a child, but what option did she have? She couldn’t leave her own flesh and blood with strangers, especially since poor Charlie had been saddled with a crazy-assed mother. Plenty of challenges lay ahead, including a schedule that wasn’t ideal for playing at being a substitute mother.
She felt totally lost.
She wanted to talk about it with someone other than Chris. Normally, she’d confide in Jake, but he didn’t know anything about being a parent, either. He bought his nephews and nieces totally inappropriate gifts like fireworks and giant chocolate candy bars. Fancy would be perfect to talk to, but Eva felt embarrassed about how craptastically screwed up her family was—she had two half brothers from two different mothers, not to mention her own mother had been married three times, too.
Monroes weren’t the luckiest when it came to love.
“I need to find my sweet husband and ask him a few questions about the schedule for tomorrow,” Fancy said, wadding up the black garbage bag and tossing it toward the trash barrel sitting on the perimeter of Burnside Hall. “Can you finish with this table?”
“Sure,” Eva said.
“Jake, come help Eva. I have to find Dan,” Fancy ordered, already heading toward the large double doors that led to the offices of the First Presbyterian Church of Magnolia Bend. Jake had been slumped against the wall, tapping on the phone. He looked up, his forehead crinkling.
“She said to go help Eva,” Abigail told him, returning her attention to tagging the kitchen items she’d commandeered from Jake.
Jake pocketed his phone and started toward Eva. He wore an old workout shirt that had a tear in one sleeve and a pair of athletic shorts that showed off his toned thighs, still tanned from summer days on the lake. He looked absolutely yummy...as usual.
“I don’t need help, so if you want you can go out and see if Matt needs some?” Eva said, rearranging the shoes on the rack below the table.
“Nah, it’s hot out there.” Jake grinned, picking up a pair of sensible flats. “Hey, Abi, I found you some new shoes. Think Mrs. Crofton donated these because they were too nerdy. Right up your alley.”
Abigail looked up and rolled her eyes. “I’m oblivious to your taunts. Plus Leif likes me barefoot.”
“I bet,” Jake drawled, making Abigail shoot daggers at him with her pretty green eyes. He turned back to Eva. “What do you want me to do?”
“Start putting these out,” Eva said, toeing a box of shoes his way.
Jake obeyed for a few seconds before reaching up to tug her ponytail. “So you’re back to wearing your hair up.”
“I told you, gets in the way otherwise,” she said, smacking his hand back.
“I like it down,” he said.
“You don’t get a say-so.”
He frowned. “I know what looks good.”
Eva laughed. “I’m aware of that particular talent, but I’m more interested in keeping it out of my eyes. And why do you care? You’ve never cared before.”
“I don’t,” he said, picking up some espadrilles and eyeing the ribbon ties. “These look uncomfortable.”
“Women don’t mind uncomfortable as long as it makes their legs look long and lifts their butt. You, of all men, ought to understand this.”
“They’d look incredible on you. You already have great legs,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Eva said, her stomach feeling hoppy at his words. He sounded almost flirty in the way Marshall Mitchell had flirted with her in the seventh grade. Your binder is girly. Can I touch your hair? Let’s just try kissing and see what it feels like.
“Nothing. Why? What’s wrong with you?”
Everything.
“Nothing. You’re just acting weird. Like flirting with me. You outta practice or something?” She snorted so he’d know she knew the idea was ludicrous.
“Why wouldn’t I flirt with you? According to you, I sleep with every woman who has a pair of tits and no ring on her finger. You fit the criteria. Especially the tits part.” His eyes slid to her boobs, making something hot slither down her spine.
What the hell?
Jake had never—
She put the kibosh on that notion. Jake wasn’t into her. He’d never commented on her being a woman, beyond a little teasing here or there. As usual he was being outrageous, totally irreverent. Just Jake.
But his comment made her realize she’d hurt his feelings last night when she’d told him to lay off Jenny. “And here I was thinking the ring thing didn’t matter.”
His head jerked up, outrage in his eyes. “You know I don’t mess with married women.”
“I’m joking. You know what a joke is, right?” she said with a smart-ass smile, repeating the same phrase he’d used last night. “I’ve heard of honor among thieves. Is there honor among man whores, too?”
Jake threw a wadded-up nylon knee-high at her.
“Gross,” Eva shrieked, pushing away the object he’d pulled out of the espadrille.
“You know I’m sensitive about being a man whore,” he cracked, his blue eyes dancing, white teeth flashing.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of a laughing, sexy Jake. God Almighty, the man was gorgeous with that brown hair that glinted red in the sunlight, strong jaw and hands she’d fork over her next paycheck just to have run over her naked shoulders and down her back. Eva swallowed, blocking out the irrational desire for a man who was her friend.
Friend.
“Well, you don’t have to throw someone’s nasty old knee-high at me. I’ll try to remember you’re sensitive about spreading yourself around.”
“Spreading myself around?” Jake parroted, withdrawing the other wadded-up hosiery from the toe of the other shoe. “Do you want to rephrase that?”
Eva took a few steps back. “Don’t you dare.”
Jake flashed an evil grin that was also sexy as hell. “Oh, I dare.”
Eva scrambled backward, nearly tripping over a stroller. “Don’t you do it. Jake!”
Jake lunged for her, and Eva sidestepped, scrambling behind another table displaying candle holders and ashtrays. He dangled the stocking that was stained black at the toes. “I think this would look nice on you, Eva.”
“You two cut it out,” Abigail yelled. “We’ve got lots to do.”
“You heard your sister,” Eva warned, shifting left and right as Jake swung the offending thing her way.
“Since when do I listen to her?” he said, lurching around.
Squealing, Eva ran toward the emergency exit door. “Stop, Jake!”
He ran behind her, laughing like