Page 11 of Holding on to Chaos
“No one was ever sure.Charisma Champion, you know her?”
“Sure. I had her for American history and wool dying in high school,” Donovan nodded.
Eva sputtered in her wine glass and clamped a napkin over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said. “Wool dying got me.”
Mr. Snuffles let out a loud snore from under the table.
“Well, she’s also an astrology hobbyist,” Phoebe continued. “And I think she had a theory about something with a planet traveling through some system and wreaking havoc.”
Donovan reached for his wine. No sheriff wanted to hear that there was a potential town-wide meltdown in the works.
“Let’s hope that, this time around, a theory is just a theory.”
CHAPTER SIX
Eva could barely concentrate on the bowl of heaven in front of her. Dinner—and the man next to her—demanded her full attention. The idea that some astrological apocalypse could be heading for town? It was fascinating like finding out that witches or vampires were real. And speaking of fascinating, there was Donovan Cardona. Still in uniform, still sexy as hell. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was about him that was so appealing. Sure, he was gorgeous. And manly. And had the whole do-right thing going on. But there was something else. Something steady and reliable and so solidly good about him.
And when she spelled it out like that, it didn’t sound sexy,she thought, mentally editing her description of him. Eva didn’t like it when things couldn’t be defined by words.
Donovan’s knee brushed hers under the table and derailed her thoughts. He fumbled his wine glass and shot her a heated look that Phoebe and Franklin missed.
Her heart tripped, and Eva straightened in her chair. There was no way in hell it was possible. There wasn’t a shred of possibility that Sheriff Sexy was attracted to her. Granted, he’d seen her boobs, and they were pretty fantastic. But the rest of the package? She was a walking, falling down disaster. Donovan would go for someone tall and lithe and infinitely graceful. Like Taneisha, the marathon-running model of sweetness and perfection that Eva wanted to hate but couldn’t.
God, they would have beautiful children.
“Pathetic,” Eva muttered under her breath. Even in her own fantasies she was marrying off her heartthrob to other people.
“What’s pathetic?” Donovan asked quietly, leaning in.
“Uhhhh, oh politics today. I mean can’t we all just agree we want everyone to be healthy, safe, educated, and not poor?” Eva shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth to prevent the necessity of answering any follow up questions.
She was generally an excellent liar. After all, she was the only sister never to be caught sneaking home after curfew. But a few run-ins with the good sheriff, and she couldn’t even string a plausible fib together.
“Forgive Eva, Donovan. She lives in her own little world half the time,” Franklin said with an indulgent wink in her direction.
“My world is lovely. Thank you very much,” Eva said, snagging her wine glass, grateful that no one actually knew where her little world had led her.
“We were discussing the Halloween Carnival,” Phoebe told her.
“Ooh! A carnival! That sounds like fun. Unless of course the whole planetary alignment thing turns out to be true. Then it would probably be a nightmare.”
Donovan gripped his spoon like it was a weapon. “I guess I’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
A man cocky enough to think he could realign planets? Eva liked that.
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Eva begged off dessert, already thinking about the time she’d need to spend in Gia’s yoga studio burning off her dad’s damn bread. Plus, she didn’t want to have an awkward exit with Donovan. She’d had enough of those encounters today and didn’t need to add fumbling with her car keys and accidentally backing into the big oak tree in the front yard to the list.
He’d been a nice addition to dinner, the handsome sheriff. He was clearly close with Phoebe, and his presence had added a sense of history to the cozy scene. Eva was still getting used to seeing her father happy, deliriously so.
When her mother had abandoned their family, Franklin had done his best to hide his pain from Eva and her sisters. He shopped for prom dresses and tampons. He made every parent-teacher conference and soccer game. He’d consoled them when boys had broken their hearts and cheered with them at graduations and weddings.
He had found a solid, loving partner in Phoebe, and there were few things in the world that gave Eva more pleasure than listening to her father’s new wife laugh until she couldn’t breathe at one of his admittedly corny jokes.
She dug her keys out of her bag and—in juggling the plastic container of leftovers and her oversized purse—dropped them on the ground.
“Crap,” she muttered. Stacking purse and leftovers on the roof of her car, she blindly felt around on the ground until her fingers brushed her oversized keyring.
