Page 50 of Fall Into Temptation
And that’s why Eva hung on to her secrets.
She worked through the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon from the couch on the sunporch. When the story flowed, she abandoned all other distractions and went with it. Inspiration was a fickle bitch, and when she showed up to play, Eva knew better than to try to tame her. After stalling out while trying to find a synonym for “smirk” that didn’t sound too dickish, she took a popcorn break. And while the house filled with the heavenly scent, she paused to roll out her shoulders.
She wondered if it was the subject matter that had her inspiration firing on all cylinders. Her small-town sheriff hero was admittedly modeled after Donovan, even before she’d started pumping him for information, before he’d admitted his feelings. Eva hadn’t needed to be on the receiving end of his lips to know he was a genuine romantic hero, and she had a feeling her readers were going to fall hard for him.
She just hadn’t had the opportunity to bring up the topic to Donovan that he was about to become a romance novel hero. Okay, that was a lie. She’d had the opportunity but not the right motivation yet.
“Oh, hey, there, sexy guy with a gun. I hope you don’t mind that I’m using you in the nicest possible way,” she said aloud to herself.
Eva shook her head. Yeah, she was going to have to come up with a better way to broach the subject. Maybe if they ever made it out to dinner? Somewhere cozy and dark. She’d lean forward and take his hand in hers. The candlelight… no. Scratch that. The firelight would glint off her hair. Yeah. That worked.
The microwave dinged, temporarily quieting her writer’s imagination.
Eva had always known her brain worked differently than the organized, number-loving Emma. Gia, too. Her middle sister lived in a big picture kind of world where details often slipped through the cracks, but the plan was always still the plan.
Eva, on the other hand, spent her mental energy rearranging words to paint pictures in her mind. Her own little world, as her family had called it when she spaced out, had been a romantic fantasy since she’d discovered boys at thirteen. She’d penned embarrassing short stories about junior high true love that took place in the hallway between gym and biology.
And now she was living one, Eva thought, scooping a handful of popcorn out of the bag.
She had a handsome hero ready and willing to sweep her off her feet and profess his over-the-top instalove that her readers would swoon over. Her sisters and father had all found happiness here. And despite the present circumstances of being in the throes of an epic town-wide temper tantrum, she felt like maybe her happily ever after could be on the horizon.
If Donovan was willing to give her a little wiggle room in the truth and honesty department.
She took another handful of popcorn, sighed, and then choked when a kernel tried to sneak down her windpipe.
“Dang it,” she coughed. She hoped that wasn’t a warning from karma. She had her reasons for not dragging anyone else into her mess. She was going to fix it once and for all this time. And maybe once the shadow of shame that had followed her everywhere was finally vanquished, maybe then she could really think about a relationship with Donovan.
Her phone dinged, and she saw a new text from Donovan.
Donovan: “Did you make out with the band director or was that a dream?”
She smiled at the screen, feeling like a teenager with a crush all over again.
Eva: “Ask not what your town can do for you but what you can do for your town.”
Another text popped up. This one stole her smile and her good mood.
Unknown: “I think it’s time we talk face-to-face. You owe me.”
Her reaction was visceral and instantaneous. Anger and hurt coiled together in a molten ball in her belly. Why couldn’t this shadow stop following her? Maybe it was because she tried to escape the confrontation rather than face it. Over and over again. But she wasn’t going to be chased out of Blue Moon. She’d stand her ground here. Her thumbs flew over the screen.
Eva: “If anyone owes anything. It’s you. I’m not playing your games anymore.”
Unknown: “You’ll play any game I tell you to.”
She shuddered at the response, then straightened her shoulders. No. It was far beyond time to put a stop to this. She had a future to think about, and there was no room for the person at the other end of the text in it.
Eva: “Not happening this time. Leave me alone. Permanently.”
Eva tossed her phone on the couch and paced in front of it. She wouldn’t break this time. Not here. Not now. She was finally living out her dream of being an author. She shared this lovely little town with everyone who mattered in her life. She wasn’t letting anyone take this from her.
“Yeah,” Eva nodded in agreement with her inner pep talk. She wanted to be here. She was earning her place, surrounded by family, getting to know Donovan, writing her books. Blue Moon was home, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take that from her. Not this time.
She blocked the number and, feeling brave, went back to writing about love.
CHAPTER TWENTY
By mid-week, the entire town was in a variety of uproars, and Eva and Donovan still had failed to set and keep a date. There’d been the dinner plan for Monday. Eva had been knee-deep in a chapter rewrite that afternoon when Donovan had called to rain check. Someone had dumped an industrial size jug of organic dish soap into the fountain at the playground on the edge of town. Suds as big as SUVs were floating around the pocket-sized park.
