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Cole laughed. "Call me pretty boy again and I'll file a complaint."
He pretended to fluff nonexistent hair. Cole had gone prematurely bald at twenty-five and now shaved his head smooth. But hewaspretty nonetheless.
"I saidmama's boy."
"Oh, well. That's true," he cracked, lifting his foam cup in a mocking toast.
"How’s it going?” Jake said to Cole as he extended his fist. He handed Eva one of the bottles of water he carried in his other hand.
"What's up, Jake?" Cole asked, popping his knuckles against Jake's.
"Just puttin' out fires,"Jake said, jerking his head toward the apartment before sending a devilish grin Eva's way. "Someone's gotta do it."
This time her glove wasn't in the way of the finger she shot Jake.
Cole laughed. "She's gonna kick your ass for that."
"Yeah, she thinks she is, but ol' Jake Beauchamp's got a little something left in the tank," Jake cracked, wiggling his eyebrows at Eva.
"I'm surrounded by the deluded," Eva rolled her eyes.
"Gotta skedaddle. I'm meeting Chase out at Jennings. Someone's been stealing copper out of their units," Cole said, tossing the cup toward the trash cans standing sentry at the end of the driveway.
"Oh? Usually you're investigating the doughnuts over at PattyAnns," Eva called.
Cole mimicked a gun firing with a finger and thumb and staggered back toward his cruiser. "You got me," he said with a flirty wink before sliding back into the car.
She and Jake stood for a minute, sucking down water and watching as Cole pulled away. He issued a wave and then hit the siren once as he rolled away. "I think he's in love with you," Jake said, turning back toward the duplex.
"I'm pretty sure he isn't," she said.
"Because of Chase?" He made a face just uttering her ex-boyfriend's name.
Jake wasn't a fan of Chase's. They'd gone to school together, competing against each other for starting linebackerandfor who got to date the prettiest cheerleader. When Eva had broken things off with Chase, Jake had gotten a little easier to be around. She'd like to think it was because deep down underneath his playboy image, he carried a small torch for her. But she knew that wasn't the reason. Jake had just gotten tired of Chase always hedging in on their gym time together, trying to outlift him.
"Yeah. Something like that," she said, emptying the rest of the bottle, not willing to put to words what many suspected - that Cole was gay.
"Hey, Wendell put in his papers. His wife's gonna throw him a retirement party next month. Guess it's official." Jake took her empty bottle and walked it over to the trash can.
"What is?" she said.
Jake smiled against the sun peeking over the top of the trees, his auburn hair glowing like embers. His bright blue eyes, strong jaw and white teeth prominent against his tanned skin. He looked like pure sex. Like the kind of guy who knew right where to place his lips, right where to stroke, right where to tease. He was like a walking fantasy-teenaged heartthrob, rock 'n' roll drummer, and dangerous outlaw rolled into one. ''That I get to arm wrestle you for the captain's spot.”
Eva laughed and chucked him on the chin. "Give it your best shot, Maverick."
2
THE SCENE AT Ray-Ray's was the same. It was always the same.
Jake peeled the label from his NOLA beer and watched as his older brother, Matt, threw darts with one of the teachers from the school where Matt was principal. Jake couldn't remember the older guy's name. Only that he was from Oregon and drank Johnnie Walker Black Label.
Across from Jake sat the guy he'd talked into peeing on an electric fence when they were eleven years old, the guy he'd caught his first bass with, the guy who'd stolen his old man's cigarettes and shared them with Jake. Clint Cochran had been his best bud only since forever, and every week Jake picked him up and sat with him at a table while he nursed a gin and tonic.
"What's wrong?" Clint said after several minutes of them listening to Trace Adkins belt out an old tune. His friend took a sip of his drink, and Jake noticed how big Clint's biceps had gotten. All his gym work with Eva had paid off... as had the fact that Clint had to heft himself into bed, to the toilet, and into the car. It took tremendous strength to move the bulk of his lower half around.
"Nothing's wrong."
"It's this town, isn't it?" Clint asked, his dark eyes searching his for some weakness, hoping Jake would finally crack. It was a game they played sometimes, a guilt-riddled, smoldering resentment of a game.
