Page 9 of Fall Into Temptation
He spared Gia an extra glance in the review mirror. Though the family resemblance was strong and the looks striking among the sisters, neither Gia nor Emma had ever stirred him the way Eva had.
He’d spent the better part of a year wondering if—sometimes hoping—that pull would go away. But Carter was right. He was going to have to make a decision one way or another. He followed the drive over a short crest and to the west. He could see the lights of Phoebe and Franklin’s house ahead.
He drummed his fingers against the wheel when he eased in next to the dark blue Mini Cooper. If Eva’s flashy little ride was here, odds were the woman was as well. He thought about her goodbye and grinned. She’d been embarrassed. He’d been turned on. He wasn’t sure if the next time he saw her he wanted it to be with her parents present. He debated for another thirty seconds and released his seatbelt.
Hazel and Michael Cardona didn’t raise him to run scared from anything. Not even a tiny redhead with bewitching eyes… and an incredible body.
His knock on the front door was met with frantic barking and the skittering of dog paws on hardwood. “I’ll get it!” He heard the call from the back of the house and knew before she opened the door who it would be.
“Oh!” Eva stared up at him, her mouth gaping open. A snot-nosed pug shoved its flat face out the door and romped over to his feet to sniff him.
“Hi,” he said to Eva, looping his thumbs into his pockets and letting Mr. Snuffles get a good whiff of cop shoes. “Are your parents home?”
“I’m having flashbacks to high school,” Eva breathed, her eyes wide. “Tell me this isn’t about my senior class prank.” The way she shoved a bare foot behind the door made him think she was considering slamming it in his face if the answer was yes.
He laughed. “That’s not at the top of my list, and neither is arresting Phoebe or Franklin. Just have some questions.”
“In that case, come on in.” She opened the door with a flourish, and when he stepped into the foyer’s light, he spotted the bruise. He took her chin in his hand and held her face to the light. “Doesn’t look too bad,” he commented.
Eva wrinkled her nose. “You should see the other guy.”
“Don’t tell me your landlord is going to make me arrest you for abuse of a kitchen.”
“Who is it, Eva?” Phoebe called from the back of the house.
“The cops,” Eva yelled over her shoulder. She grinned up at him, and his blood stirred. Bewitched and bewildered. That was his current status.
“You said you didn’t have anything to do with the fire,” Franklin yelled over the blender.
“Very funny!” Eva yelled back. “Come on back,” Eva told Donovan, gesturing over her shoulder. “You’re just in time for dinner.”
He followed her and the sway of those hips as she padded barefoot down the hallway. She wore slim black pants that accented all the right curves. Her oversized denim shirt was tucked into the front, and the sleeves were rolled up. Her hair was up in a riotous ponytail of strawberry blonde curls that begged for him to fist his hands in them.
“Donovan!” Phoebe greeted him as if he was one of her sons with a kiss on the cheek and a studious look. Her short brown hair was streaked with silver. But it didn’t make her look old. She’d never be old in his eyes. She peered at him over her wire rimmed glasses. “Tell me you’re off duty and you can stay for dinner.”
He thought about the two slices of pizza he’d gotten out of Carter and then about the cold cuts sitting in his fridge. The air in the main living space smelled of something delicious and Italian, and his stomach pleaded with him.
“If it’s no trouble.”
“I made enough for a family of ten,” Franklin promised from the stove. He was a burly man with silver hair and a warm, ever-present smile. With the onset of fall, he’d traded in his Hawaiian shirts for colorful checkered long sleeve Oxfords.
“Here,” Phoebe shoved bowls into his hands and then pointed Eva to the plates on the counter. “You two set. We’ll finish up in here. Dinner in five. And Eva, get our sheriff here a drink, please.”
Phoebe had practically run Donovan’s campaign for town sheriff. And she’d been just as thrilled, just as proud as his own mother, when he’d won in a landslide. Whenever he got to missing his own parents, who’d moved to New Mexico a few years ago, he’d visit Phoebe. He was always welcome in her home, at her table. And there he could always find the family he needed.
Donovan followed Eva around the table, placing a bowl on each plate she lay down.
She stopped short at the head of the farmhouse table, and he bumped into her. She turned slowly to face him, and Donovan felt his breath catch. He gritted his teeth, careful not to show any outward reaction. If this was a crush, he never wanted to feel the full-blown thing. He could barely function around her as it was.
“What would you like to drink? Beer or wine?”
“How about wine?” he decided, feeling festive.
“Red or white?” she asked, her lips curving up at him. She was too close. He liked it too much.
“Surprise me,” he said, his voice low and husky as if they were sharing secrets. His fingers twitched at his side wanting to reach out to her. To touch that slim, ivory neck.
When Eva stepped away, he could breathe again.
