Sweet Illusions (Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series Book 4) Page 4

  “Yes!” Her eyes lit up and she raced around the table, calling for the rest of the kids. “Abbie, Jordan, Ezra, Uncle Ben’s taking us shell hunting!”

  Ben wiped his hands on a paper towel and eyed the pile of crab shells in front of him. “I think I ate too much,” he groaned. “Probably better walk some of this off.”

  Eva leaned so he could pull his legs from under the table, already missing the warmth of him by her side.

  “Wanna come along?” Ben asked. “If you’re finished eating,” he added quickly.

  Excitement darted through her. “I’m finished,” she said. “But I should probably help clean up.”

  “Go ahead, Eva,” Marjorie chimed in from the other side of the table. Eva flushed; she hadn’t even known the older woman was paying attention to them. “It’ll be faster if you two take the kids out of the way anyway,” Marjorie insisted.

  Ben shot his mother a look, but simply smiled. “Okay then, let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  The moon hung low and bright, bouncing off the sand and giving them more than enough light to hunt for shells. Arthur had stayed with Gina, but the rest of the children scampered ahead of Ben and Eva as they walked slowly up the beach. Ben had no idea where his shoes had ended up, and he was pleased to see Eva had slipped hers off too. They stayed on the edge of the water and every once in a while, a wave came boiling up the sand to swirl around their ankles before withdrawing again with a soft hiss.

  “Man, I’ve missed it here,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  “Jennifer said you’ve been in Atlanta?” Eva asked.

  “Yeah. I was on the force there for six years.” His stomach knotted. What if she wanted to know why he’d come home? What if she’d heard about Griffin? Or maybe she already knew; she did live next door to Miss Lucille, after all.

  “How do you like Indigo Bay?” he asked. Dumb question, but they had to start somewhere. He’d noticed how she tried to steer the conversation away from herself at dinner—a classic conversation tactic. Was she practicing Tinder’s Top Ten Tips for Dating, or was she merely a private person? And if so, how did he draw her out?

  “It’s beautiful,” Eva said, and he remembered he’d asked her about Indigo Bay. “I love the ocean, and your parents’ house is amazing. I feel lucky to live here.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I always felt too,” he said. Slightly ahead of them, three-year-old Ezra face-planted in the sand and Ben chuckled, watching as Abbie pulled him up and brushed him off.

  “Do your brother and sister live around here too?” Eva asked.

  “Tyler and Jennifer live closer to Hilton Head and Gina and Lee are about two hours inland,” Ben explained.

  “Look at this one!” Jordan came running up, holding a small peach-colored shell.

  “Calico scallop,” Ben told him. “Think you can find the other half?”

  It would be nearly impossible to find a matched set of scallop shells, but the five-year-old took off running, his head moving back and forth as he eagerly searched the sand. Ben felt kind of bad sending him off on an impossible errand, but figured it was worth it to give him more alone time with Eva.

  They walked past Miss Lucille’s house, rising three stories and ringed with balconies. Ben had never been inside, but when they were little, he and Gina had made up stories about Miss Lucille’s Fort of Surveillance. Inside would be set up like a crime lab from the movies—a dozen heavily muscled agents in black jackets sipping coffee in front of computer screens as they monitored everything that happened within a five-hundred-foot radius of the property; a helicopter waiting on the roof for a quick escape; three dozen cameras trained on the beach to keep an eye on the tourists; and a special forensics lab to determine exactly whose dog had pooped on the lawn.

  Tonight, though, all the windows were dark except for one, where a small lamp burned on the lower level. Miss Lucille had mentioned setting him up with … was it her niece? He’d told her he planned to focus on work, but that had changed when he’d seen his mom coming across the sand with Eva.

  He glanced sideways at her, noting how the moonlight kissed the bridge of her nose and the pale skin on her forehead. Her hair was so dark it blended into the shadows, but her enormous eyes glowed blue. He felt a stirring in his gut. She was reserved, but she’d laughed a few times at dinner and he’d found himself craving the sound, wanting to hear it again and especially wanting it to be because of him. He had an almost irrepressible urge to start showing off, like a teenager trying to impress a girl, wanting to be the source of her joy.

  “Best thing about the chocolate shop—go,” Ben said.

  “The chocolate, duh,” Eva said with a teasing lilt in her voice.

  “And I’ll bet Miss Eulalie lets you eat as much as you can, right?”

  “Of course,” Eva said. “We’ve got all the basic food groups covered: white in the morning, milk at lunch, and dark for dinner.”

  He laughed. “Sounds like the perfect job.”

  She threw him a quick smile, and he fought back a wild impulse to start doing push-ups.

  “Actually, I like making them more than eating them. Is that weird? There’s something so satisfying about pulling the fondant out of the melted chocolate, putting a perfect little curl on the top.” She hesitated. “Sorry, that probably sounds lame.”

  It didn’t sound lame at all. It made him want to watch her work, see her eyes come alight when she got the perfect curl.

  “Uncle Ben, look at this!” It was Abbie this time. She extended her palm to reveal what looked like a small rock, only it was a matte green and gleamed in the moonlight.

  “Sea glass,” Ben said. He plucked it from her hand and ran his thumb along the rounded edge. “Nice job, this is a good one.”

  “Sea glass?” Eva asked.

  Ben handed it to her and watched as she rubbed her delicate fingertips over it in fascination.

  “It washes ashore from all over the world,” Abbie declared proudly. “Daddy says each piece could be hundreds of years old.”

  “It’s really beautiful.” Eva held it up to let the moonlight shine through the frosty surface.

  “Greens and browns are the most common; they’re usually from soda or beer bottles,” Ben said. “Or sometimes industrial glass like fishing floats. Most of it’s litter, but some comes from shipwrecks.”

  Eva ran her nail along a small niche in the glass where the sand and salt hadn’t had time to completely obscure the shine. “It’s really neat,” she finally said, offering the glass back to Abbie.

  “You can keep it,” Abbie offered.

  “Are you sure? I mean, if it’s rare …”

  Abbie shrugged. “I have a lot of green at home already.”

  “Thank you.” Eva gave the girl a warm smile. “I love it.”

  A whistle sounded above the waves, and Ben recognized it immediately, his dad’s call to muster the troops. The children heard it too; they did a one-eighty and charged back down the beach to where the embers of the fire hadn’t quite died out.

  “Ben, can I ask you something?” Eva said as they followed the kids at a slower pace.

  “Sure.”

  “Did … did I steal your apartment?”

  “Huh?”

  She waved her hand toward the dunes, where the rooftop of his parents’ house was visible. “You could have had the apartment over the garage. Only now you can’t, because I’m there.”

  Ben laughed. “Honestly, the thought never occurred to me.”

  “You weren’t planning to stay there?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I love my family, but I don’t want to live at home again.”

  “Your family is great,” Eva said with a slight defensive touch to her voice.

  “True. But after being away for so long, I’m okay living across town from them. Don’t worry,” he added quickly, not wanting to worry her, “they’re a little intense sometimes, but way more Stark clan than Lannister.”

  He’
d been going for a laugh, but the look she gave him was totally blank. “Lannister?”

  “Like in Game of Thrones? The Red Wedding, Rains of Castamere? We’re not into revenge killing. Though sometimes as kids Tyler and I would fight so much that—” He stopped when he saw the look on her face. The color had drained from her cheeks and her eyes were glazed, unfocused. “Are you okay?” Ben asked. He grabbed her arm, afraid she would faint, or something.

  Eva shook her head as if to clear it. “Right, Game of Thrones.” Her voice shook. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.” She threw a look to where the party was breaking up. “We should probably go help.” Before he could say another word, she hurried off, practically running down the beach away from him. During the chaos of cleaning up, she slipped away before he could tell her goodbye.

  Eva closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could somehow shut out the past with her body. She turned the lock and dropped her shoes by the door, then dug the piece of sea glass from the pocket of her skirt. It was cool and smooth with indentations that fit against her fingertips perfectly, like a worry stone. She set it on the bookcase next to the lamp.

  Worry was right. Clan. Revenge killing. He’d thrown those words around like they were nothing and sent her spiraling back into memories of dark days that were best forgotten.

  She groaned. Of all the people in Indigo Bay to feel a spark with, she had to pick the cop? How long before he started digging into her past and showing up at her door wanting answers she couldn’t give?

  Eva dropped her head into her hands as old fears and new combined to buzz at the base of her skull like a swarm of angry bees, trying to find a way in. Could she ever stop running?

  “So what’s the deal with Eva?” Ben asked. He shook out a blanket, then draped it over the rail of the deck.

  “What do you mean?” his mother replied. “I think she’s a sweet girl. Pretty too.”

  Yes, she was certainly pretty. But something was wrong. He thought they’d had a good rapport going, so why had she run off? “She seems really jumpy.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Tyler heaved the cooler onto the deck. He shot a glance at Ben, his eyes twinkling. “Let me guess. Eva?”

  “Yes, and how many times have I asked you not to empty water onto my wood?” With a theatrical sigh, their mother spun the cooler so the spout jutted over the edge of the deck and the melted ice water ran into the flowerbeds.

  Tyler grinned at his mother, then turned to Ben. “Do you like her?”

  “I don’t even know her,” Ben said.

  “Uh, yeah. That’s why you ask her on a date; so you can get to know her.” Tyler pointed out. “She’s cute, seems nice, and is obviously into you. This should be cake, little bro.”

  “What makes you think she’s obviously into me?” Ben asked. The idea of Eva being “into him” sent a shot of adrenaline zinging through his veins.

  “Really?” Tyler scoffed. “You didn’t notice the way she looked at you? Man, if you’re a cop and this bad at reading people, no wonder Atlanta didn’t work out.”

  “Tyler!” their mother gasped.

  Ben gritted his teeth. “Or maybe I got tired of watching teenagers killing each other,” he snapped. He leaned a knee onto the trash bag full of paper plates and newspapers, squashing it until he could tie the ends.

  “Sorry,” Tyler said, his voice contrite. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Ben kept his eyes focused on the trash bag. “Don’t worry about it.” He tied off the bag and picked it up. “I’m going to throw this away.”

  “Ben,” Tyler urged. “Don’t be mad. I’m teasing.”

  He lifted one hand over his shoulder in acknowledgement as he disappeared around the corner of the house to the trash cans.

  Atlanta, or more accurately Griffin, was painful enough without people rubbing it in. There was no other way to look at it: he was a failure. He’d swaggered off to the big city, ready to make a difference, and had come running home with his tail between his legs.

  Ben lifted the lid on the trash can and dropped the bag inside. The cans were lined up next to the garage, and overhead, a light shown in the window of the apartment. The window to Eva’s bedroom. The blinds were shut, but he stood for a moment staring up at the rectangle of dim yellow light. Why had she run away from him so suddenly?

  Chapter 5

  Eva’s education within the Family had been spotty. She’d learned the basics at a homeschool, but the curriculum focused on Prophet Neezrahiah’s religious teachings and not much else. According to the prophet, the aliens who had established life on earth were due to return soon. Upon seeing the wickedness of humankind, they would annihilate almost everyone, saving only a select few, the faithful—the members of the Family.

  The exact date of the apocalypse had changed a few times over the years, but when Eva was growing up, it was set for December 2012, lining up with the end of the Mayan calendar. With such a firm end date in mind, there didn’t seem to be much point in traditional education. Why learn the rules of a world that would soon cease to exist?

  So when she’d started cleaning Mrs. Dora England’s house at age sixteen, Eva had a fourth-grade education. And it might have stayed that way, except Dora England was a rich empty nester with time on her hands and a firm belief in acquiring knowledge. Eva’s cleaning routine quickly morphed into something else as Dora sought to make up for Eva’s missing knowledge of math, science, civics, history, humanities, and computers. She gave Eva unlimited access to her extensive library and even enrolled her in online high school. They spent many hours at the kitchen table together while Mrs. England helped Eva earn a GED.

  Without Dora England, Eva would not love books and learning, and she felt a surge of renewed gratitude as she climbed the library steps on the Tuesday after the beach party.

  The Indigo Bay Library was by far Eva’s favorite building in town. Converted from an antebellum mansion, it had all the glamour of its former glory, including elaborately carved woodwork and high ceilings with intricate moldings. The tall fireplaces had witnessed many conversations among gentlemen with soft Southern accents, and the curved staircase whispered of Scarlett O’Hara, holding her enormous skirts out of the way and batting her eyelashes as she descended. A large veranda was filled with comfortable chairs and ceiling fans with palm-shaped blades that turned slowly in the breeze.

  But Eva’s favorite place was the window seat on the second floor at the back of the nonfiction section. The wooden bench, stained and worn smooth, nestled into a large bay window that offered a view of the ocean. The faded cushion was lumpy from years of use, but three plump pillows more than made up for that.

  At some point in the library’s past, they’d started running out of room, and someone had extended a shelf so it partially blocked the window seat. The tall shelf was densely packed with books—perfect for screening the seat from view and creating a cozy reading space.

  Since leaving the Family, Eva was increasingly aware of how much she didn’t know, and the library had become an important source of information on everything from chocolate-making to politics. She sometimes used the internet, but she preferred the solidity and solitude of books.

  It was her day off and she’d awoken to a storm blowing in off the Atlantic. But Eva didn’t mind the steely-gray skies. After cold cereal for breakfast, she’d hurried through the drizzle to the library, where she’d collected a huge stack of books, then collapsed into the window seat. Tucking a pillow behind her back, she plunged into the pages. The glass from the mullioned window was cold, but her oversized oatmeal-colored sweater blocked most of the chill.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been reading when there was an enormous crash and the tower of books she’d stacked on the bench by her feet avalanched to the floor.

  “Oops, sorry,” a familiar voice said.

  Eva raised her head and met Ben’s brown eyes. In the four days since she’d seen him, she’d thought of him way too often
. She froze as a dozen different emotions raced through her—excitement at seeing him again, embarrassment for sneaking away, and, oh goodness … was this desire? Her nerves sizzled.

  Ben held a book tucked under his arm like a football. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a soft plaid shirt that looked like it had seen many, many washings. Was it bad she wanted to snuggle with his shirt?

  “Sorry,” he said again, stooping to gather her fallen books.

  “It’s my fault. I always get too many,” Eva said quickly.

  He piled her books onto the bench and flashed her a grin. “Nah. You can never have too many books, right? And you’ve found the best spot in the building; this was always my favorite, too.”

  They locked eyes for a moment and the only sound was the rain pattering on the window. She wanted to say something, apologize for sneaking away after the beach, but the words wouldn’t come. “There’s room if you want to stay,” she finally said.

  “You sure?” His chocolate eyes lit up, and when she nodded, he settled onto the window seat and tipped his head sideways to read the titles on her stacks of books. “Wow, everything from sewing techniques to historical fiction, huh?”

  “I like learning new things.”

  He shuffled the books to pick up a thick novel. “Game of Thrones … excellent! Well, technically A Song of Ice and Fire, but you know what I mean. You’ll love it. But you can’t cheat and watch the TV show first,” he added quickly. “You have to wait until you’ve finished the books.”

  “Okay,” Eva agreed, totally lost.

  “And the last seasons of the show go beyond the books, so even though it happens in the show, it might not have happened in the books—yet or ever,” he said seriously.

  “Uh, why?”

  “Why what? Why don’t they match?” Ben settled his back against the window and crossed his arms, looking serious. “Well, George R.R. Martin hasn’t finished book six and the show caught up to him. They couldn’t wait for him to release the next book, because who knows when that will be, so they decided to go ahead and write their own scripts.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “I don’t actually know which I like better; they each have their own merits. So you’ll have to read the books, then watch the shows, and we can compare notes.”