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Clint shrugged. "Jake will chew you up and spit you out. Make no mistake of that. He can't be happy."
"Because you won't let him. You enjoy using his guilt against him. What does that make you, Clint?" Eva walked over to the man who she'd only thought of in the best of terms until now.
Clint had shown so much good humor and determination in facing his disability. They'd spent many days of the week in the gym working toward his being able to compete in parasports. They'd even planned a trip to Houston for one of the races. She'd visited him here in this very house, sharing details of her childhood, funny stories from the firehouse. She'd always thought Clint her friend.
But maybe not.
He wanted her for something more than friendship and when he couldn't have her, he made sure that the one person she wanted, the one person she truly loved, wouldn't give her a chance.
Clint was a messed-up dude.
He looked up at her now. "One day you'll thank me."
"Not today. Probably not tomorrow. Likely never." Then she turned and walked out of the room.
"Oh, come on, Eva. Don't leave like this."
She turned around, coming back with long, angry strides.
"Did you watch? Did you spy on me and Jake?"
Clint narrowed his eyes. ''And if l did? You pretty much dropped your sanity when you dropped that dress."
"You did!" She jabbed a finger at him. "Do you know how sick that is?"
"I stopped watching when I saw what was happening. I'm no glutton for punishment or pervert. So, no, I didn't watch you screw my best friend." He pressed a button and rolled toward the ramp that took him to the upper level of the split level.
"You've said your piece. You can see yourself out," he said, before disappearing into the inner recesses of the house.
"You son of a bitch," Eva whispered under her breath, tears pricking her eyes. She walked out for the second time, this time slamming the door because it felt good.
She'd thought he'd admit he'd been wrong to approach Jake about her. She'd hoped he might go to Jake and say he'd been presumptuous, but instead Clint had remained stonily convicted he'd done the right thing.
And that pissed her off.
Because she was a grown-ass woman who didn't need anyone to guard her from anything. It also proved Clint didn't know the first thing about her. She had never needed protecting especially from her own mistakes.
God, men really, truly were idiots sometimes.
She climbed in her car and called Abigail to tell her she was on her way.
COOPER PLATT WAS morethan happy to switch shifts with Jake, and the chief didn't seem to mind, either. So as of ten o'clock Monday morning, Jake was of officially a member of A shift. Which meant he didn't have to work on Monday, which meant he had more time to stew over the crappy thing he'd done to Eva. Which blew. Because he really didn't want to sit home reliving their horrible conversation.
Thankfully, Abigail called and asked him for some help. To make ends meet he often took on small repair jobs, relying on the skills his father had taught him as a youngster. As the baby of the family, he hadn't been called on much to lend a hand around the house, until all his siblings had left for college and there was only him to help Dan measure boards and refinish old furniture. Ironically, he found comfort in a hammer and nails, so while many firemen made up for the pittance of a salary by doing lawn service, he hung up a shingle for handy man. Of course he got a couple of calls from lonely ladies who implied their pipes needed cleaning, but for the most part he'd earned a reputation as a guy who could do small projects for a good price.
Abigail had used him a lot in the restoration of her bed-and-breakfast. The main house was beautifully restored, and thus, Abigail had moved on to the small cabins that been used as a sort of commune for artists. Abigail had been working to restore the neglected row of cabins so they could be used by guests. She'd been really picky about salvaging all she could from the original structure in order to preserve the history. The first cabin would not be for guests, but rather a historical tour for visiting classrooms and tourists. The current structures had replaced older cabins that had once been used by slaves and sharecroppers. Turning a house that carried such a stain into something that could educate meant a lot to Abigail. So he hopped in his truck and drove out to Laurel Woods, painfully aware he could take a brief hike and reach Eva's house through the woods. The thought made his heart ache but he ignored it. After all, this would be his lot in life for the foreseeable future.
He parked and trudged out to the cabins and found Abigail wearing a pair of rubber boots, some cut off shorts, and an old softball team T-shirt that had seen better days a few years back. Her hair was held back in a bandanna.
"Finally," she huffed, carrying a bucket of worm eaten boards to a small area where a planer sat. "Look at these and see if any of them can be saved. I'm thinking if we run them through this puppy- " she slapped the machine "- we can salvage them."
"Hello to you, too," he drawled, shrugging out of the long-sleeved button-down shirt he'd thrown on that morning. The first chilly day of the fall had arrived, and for about one hour he had been cold.
In typical Louisiana fashion it was now once again near eighty degrees.
''Oh, sorry. How are you this morning, Jake?"
"Shitty. And you?"
