Page 29 of The Fine Art of Faking It
Eden slid a cup and saucer in front of her. “This is also for you,” she said, handing over the card.
“What’s this for?” Eva asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.
“Just a little congratulations.”
Eden had a tabbed file folder full of greeting cards for every occasion. If one of her guests lost their elderly cat or got engaged or passed the bar exam, Eden had a card ready and waiting for them.
Eva opened the envelope and read quietly.
“My own happily ever after,” she said, her eyes going damp. Eva made a choking noise and reached for her tea.
“Are you okay? You’re not freaking out about the wedding are you?” Eden asked. “Because you know you and Sheriff Sexy are meant to be.”
Eva waved away the question. “No, not at all. Donovan and I are… great.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously. I may have freaked out for the teensiest minute after the ceremony, but I’m happy. I swear.”
“Right, because you look ecstatic,” Eden pointed out.
Eva went from flushed and rosy to pale and sweaty in the span of a heartbeat. “Oh, God! I think I’m going to—” She bolted from her chair and dashed across the room to the brass umbrella stand by the French doors and vomited with enthusiasm.
Crap on a cracker. What was with people puking in the inn this week?
Eden approached cautiously. “Uhh, Eva? Are you okay?” she asked.
Eva straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Happens all the time.”
“It does?” Eden asked, bewildered. She addedbuy a new umbrella standto her mental to-do list.
“No! I’m pregnant and hiding it, okay? Geez, with the twenty questions, Eden! And now you made me tell my secret, and this is the worst!” Eva flopped face down on the striped cushion of the window seat.
Chewy decided to be helpful and climbed up on the cushion to spoon Eva with his eighty-pound body.
“Um…”
“Is everything okay?”
Eden whirled around to find Davis standing in the doorway looking fine as an Instagram model in dark trousers and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hadn’t shaved today and had a sexy little stubble thing going.
He needed to leave her alone or her resolve to continue her intense dislike of him would start to crumble.
“Everything is fine. Great. Eva just…”
“I threw up in the umbrella stand,” Eva wailed, working her way back to a seated position.
“I threw up in Eden’s shower,” Davis confessed.
Eva’s lips reluctantly quirked. “Really?”
He nodded. “Like a geyser.”
“It’s been a real barf party around here this week,” Eden sighed. She wished she had some rum for her tea. It would make everything just a little more manageable.
Eva tapped her forehead, looking at Davis. “Kitchen cabinet?” she asked.
“Fridge then cabinet,” he said, brushing his fingers over the fresh bandage.
