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Jake set his head against the steering wheel and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Every fiber in his body demanded he climb his ass out of the truck, trot up those steps, and make Eva let him back inside. Thishadto be the frustration he'd been feeling lately.
He'd lived with his decision to stay in Magnolia Bend and be Jake the Firefighter for ten long years. So what had changed? Why did he hate his life? Why did the town he loved feel so oppressive now? Some of it was Clint and the past that kept rearing its ugly head. His friend had pulled himself out of the deep depression he'd fallen into after the death of his mother, who, unlike his father, had always given him confidence that he could achieve a normal life. Clint had started working out and participating in local parasport races. His friend had even mentioned working on his MBA and started the process of applying for grad school. Instead of bellyaching or resigning himself to fate, Clint made it clear he was getting out. His friend had made the leap over his situation. And though it had taken a lot of time, therapy, and work, Clint was managing to do what Jake could not- give himself a spot to land onthe other side.
Jake was still mired in guilt, caked in complacency.
And he hated himself for not knowing what to do about it. Christ, he was a pansy-ass, scared to move beyond what he'd decided long ago. Was it so hard to tell Clint and everyone in his life that he was done with the sentence he'd given himself? That he'd done his time, atoning for all he had taken away from Clint. From Angela's family. Christ, even Angela's parents had left Magnolia Bend. They'd done what Jake couldn't seem to do-move on.
So Jake was near to certain that's why this crazy attraction for Eva had appeared. She was a distraction from what he really needed to do-make a move in some direction. He couldn't keep treading water, pretending happiness when he despised where he was, who he was. And he couldn't use Eva to fill the emptiness, to counter the failure of his life with the comfort she could no doubt give him. But attributing a reason for his desire for Eva didn't make him stop wanting her.
But she was right. They couldn't let themselves go there.
So where did that leave him?
How would he fight against the desire to be with her?
He started the truck and backed out, pointing it in the opposite direction of his house. Usually a cold beer and a hot woman could do a lot to distract him. That was how he'd made it through the past ten years of his life- being the great pretender. But he didn't want either tonight.
Just like always, Jakey.
Do the things you've always done. Pull on the person you've always been. Life's a helluva a lot easier when you don't have to show the tears and fears… And it’s even doubly easier if you stop wanting to bone your best friend.
Do that…
Or you can pack a bag and find a new life.
10
EVA HAD DREADED coming into the fire station for three days, but surprisingly the first few hours back at work were pleasant... mostly because Jake wasn't there. He'd volunteered to make a run to the grocery for supplies, not meeting her eyes, causing Dutch to lift his brows with an unstated question. It was fairly obvious that Jake,who hated going to Maggio's, was avoiding her.
And when he came back laden with grocery bags, she returned the favor by burying her head in the fridge, cleaning out spoiled foods and expired salad dressings. After sponging down all the shelves and restocking, she stepped over Dutch's long outstretched legs and headed to the office to file the stack of papers the chief had left sitting on the messy desk.
Idle hands are the devil's playthings.
And she needed to stay away from the devil.
Her father used to say that, sending her out the back door into the jungle of their Metairie home to play. Eva had always loved her backyard, with the wooden playset her father had built her and the high wood fence covered with morning glory. Fat trees provided shade and pretend houses for the imaginative girl who had chestnut curls, dimples, and loved fluffy costume dresses. Eva had been the quintessential girly-girl, with a streak of tomboy. Her daddy had doted on her... until he left.
Charles Evan Monroe hadn't been the easiest of men to live with. Being the chief of a New Orleans fire district meant he worked long hours. He missed family meals, birthday parties, and the fact that the women in his life didn't appreciate being ignored. By the time Eva had reached middle school, her mother's cold shoulder had become a permanent fixture, and when Eva was in the seventh grade, her father packed his bags and left. Six months later Eva said goodbye to their modest dogtrot with the magical backyard and hello to a cramped duplex on the West Bank. She saw her father every other weekend, but even then, he was often called away. Being a firefighter was his addiction. Charles stayed married to the job until he met a young reporter at arson scene seven years ago. Claren, her father's third and final wife, had been sucked in by Eva's father's dedication, bravery, and mature good looks. Unfortunately, not even her gravity-defiant boobs could keep him from the job.
The job had always been number one.
But Eva had adored her father, and so when it came time for her to graduate from high school and head off to college, she let her father in on the secret she'd kept buried for so long. It had been a Sunday afternoon and she’s just given her father a hug for the new laptop he’d bought her for gradation.
“So you know, I’m thinking about getting my associates degree and going to firefighter school,” she’d said as she walked with him to her car parked outside the condo.
“What?” he’d said with a laugh. As if she were joking.
“I’m serious, Dad.”
“Aw, come on, now, baby. You ain’t cut out for that.”
“Why not?”
Her father shook his head, his dark eyes amused. “Baby, girls just don’t make good firefighters. Just don’t work.”
“How can you say that? There are plenty of female firefighters. And why aren’t you proud that I want to do what you do - save lives and stuff?”
Her dad smiled and plucked one of her arms from where it hung beside her slight frame. He gave her arm a wag. “Eva Marie, look at these arms. You can hardly do a pull-up. Firefighters have to carry heavy hoses. They have to carry people out of burning buildings. That ain’t for you, sugar. Why don’t you be a nurse or something? A doctor even. Save lives that way.”
