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"Still, I think you better wait until this medicine is in his system. No need for you to get sick."
Jake said his goodbye and hung up, disappointed he wouldn't see Eva for a few days. But the rightness between them felt so different than anything he'd ever had with another woman.
It shocked him.
For the past few months he'd been restless, hungrier than normal to blow this town and make a new life for himself. Perhaps his discontent hadn't been about Magnolia Bend or his career… maybe it had been about loneliness.
Okay, so picking up a little company for a night or two had never been an issue. Willing women were a dime a dozen around any honky-tonk within a fifty mile radius. Lonely looked for lonely. But this wasn't about a physical thing. No, what he'd needed was something his brother John had found, something Abigail had found- a purpose for living.
Jake hadn't really had one.
But seeing Eva in a new light, seeing how well she fit him on all levels, made him understand. It was as if he'd been near-sighted and then pulled on a pair of glasses for the first time. All the fuzzy edges dissolved into sharp contrast. So he knew what he had with Eva was right and good. And he damn sure didn't want to wreck it by being demanding or unsupportive.
He'd see if Fancy would whip up her infamous chicken soup for him to drop off, and he'd give Eva whatever she needed, because for the first time maybe ever, someone else was more important than himself.
"Who are you?" he said to his reflection in the mirror hanging over the beat-up dresser beside the twin bed.
Then he laughed. Because at that moment he was something more than the Jake he’d always been. He belonged to someone, and that made him feel almost, well, normal.
18
WHEN JAKE PUSHED through the door at Ray-Ray's everything looked the same. Should have been comforting to Jake, but instead it felt tired. Same place, different man.
"What's up, Jake?" Ray called from behind the scarred bar. The owner/bartender wiped a mug clean as the perpetually tired Bonnie shuffled past with a tray full of beers for a few rowdy farmhands sitting in the corner playing cards. Jake's brother Matt played darts with the same guys who came every Thursday, and Clint sat in the same spot he'd sat every Thursday since he and Jake had started coming to Ray-Ray's.
Except that this Thursday Clint had driven himself.
"What the hell, dude?" Jake asked, sliding onto a stool at the table.
Clint didn't look up. Instead, he studied the half filled glass of whiskey as if it was a specimen under his microscope.
"I went to pick you up and your dad said you’d driven yourself. You couldn't text and save me a trip out to the Duck Blind?"
"Thought you liked driving out to the lake," Clint said, not looking at Jake.
An odd feeling awoke in Jake's gut. Clint sounded accusing, but why? The subject of dating Eva would be a hard one to breach since Clint was friends with both of them, and there was this odd jealousy thing happening between them. But Clint would eventually be happy for them. Jake hoped. "I do. I'm pretty fond of the lake."
"I know," Clint said, his tone expressionless. “And so you know, I can damn well drive myself. I'm not some pathetic loser who has to wait on the grand Jake Beauchamp to pick him up."
Jake rocked back at the venom in Clint's voice. "I don't do that."
"Right," Clint said, turning a shoulder toward Jake.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jake asked, waving Bonnie away when she headed toward them. Though he could use a drink, he'd rather be clear-headed for the conversation that had been brewing for years.
He didn't need this bullshit with Clint. The last few days had been hard enough not being able to be with Eva, not to mention his job rebuilding a fence for Old Man Turner. And then there was Bobby John, who had approached him about taking some arson investigation classes in order to make a move as the parish investigator.
Bobby John had applied for a position in Shreveport that would pay more and allow him to be near his family- he'd gotten the call that he was hired on Tuesday. The position for St. James parish would need to be filled by the first of the year. But Jake wasn't even sure he wanted to stay with the department anymore, much less switch to that sort of job. But it might be perfect for Eva, especially since the hours were more nine to five. So, yeah, dealing with Clint acting like a bitch over whatever burr stuck in his ass wasn't desirable.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" Clint drawled sarcastically. “Maybe you haven’t noticed that I can’t use my legs and I live with my old man. I got an effing list of what is wrong with me.”
"Come on, Clint. We're so past self-pity," Jake said. “You’re pissed about something so say what you gotta say."
“Self-pity. Now there's a word," Clint scoffed with a bitter laugh. "I've never gone there. Right? I've been Polly Positive this entire time. But even a man such as me needs to sink down in the crap hole of self-pity every once in a while. Don't take that away from me, friend."
Of course, the way Clint saidfrienddidn't sound too friendly.
Jake didn't have the energy or the patience to play the game Clint had started. "Say what you need to say."
