Had that been her earlier walking past the bar?
Had something scared her off?
Had he scared her off?
Was she having second thoughts?
A million thoughts of his own paraded through his mind as he drove out of the downtown core and off into suburbia.
If she was having second thoughts about their relationship and the two of them dating, things were going to get mighty awkward if their boys all became friends.
Twenty minutes later he pulled into Eva’s driveway, but he didn’t even have to get out of his car to see that nobody was home. The lights were all out, and there was no vehicle in sight.
Wasn’t Celeste supposed to be watching the boys at Eva’s house?
Now things were really starting to freak him out.
But he had no idea where Celeste lived or what her number was. He was stuck.
He’d been not only stood up, but his date had vanished.
Even though he knew there would be no answer, he got out of his truck anyway and ran up to the front door. It was still early enough that he could ring the doorbell and not risk waking the kids.
He did that.
No answer.
Not that he really expected one.
Then he pounded on the door. “Eva!” he called out.
Still no answer.
Would it be too much for him to head around back to the sundeck doors and peer inside, make sure she was okay?
Yes, yes, it probably would be.
Damn it.
He didn’t care that he was stood up. Well, yes, he did. It sucked major big time. But more, he cared that she was all right. Thoughts of her sadistic ex crawled back into his brain, and then he began to wonder if maybe the boy’s father had shown up and kidnapped them all.
“She was here, but then they all left,” came a grisly male voice to Scott’s left. Ah, good old Mr. Gallagher, with his mile-long gray nose and ear hair and liver spots.
Scott approached the wooden fence that separated Eva’s property from Mr. Gallagher’s. “She was here? She was okay?”
Mr. Gallagher nodded, which caused his long, thick jowls to jiggle. “Yep. Cab dropped her off about thirty minutes ago, then she and the kids piled into the van and left. Her sister and niece followed.”
Scott exhaled, and relief crashed into him like a runaway train. At least she was okay.
“Did she say anything to you?” he asked, hopeful but already knowing what Mr. Gallagher’s answer would be.
Just as he suspected, the elderly man shook his head, the crease of his frown getting lost in the multitude of other lines on his face. “She didn’t, I’m afraid. Looked mighty pretty though, all dressed up for a date or something.”
Okay, so she had been planning to join him. Had something come up? An emergency with one of the kids?
“Did the kids seem okay?”
Again, Mr. Gallagher nodded, lifting his chin up and allowing his milky blue gaze to scan the tops of the tall evergreen trees in his backyard. “Kids seemed fine. No crying, if that’s what you mean.” He turned his attention back to Scott, and his overgrown brows, which met in the middle, furrowed deep. “You and the new neighbor courting or something?”
Or something.
At least he hoped it was something.
Mr. Gallagher was very kind, as was his wife, Mrs. Gallagher—but they were also two of the biggest gossips on the block. Particularly Mrs. Gallagher. She had half the neighborhood over for tea each week, and by Saturday she knew everything about everybody, and then she relayed it all to Scott as he stood in his driveaway and washed his truck.
If he gave Mr. Gallagher even a whiff of gossip, the entire street, hell, the entire subdivision would know by Friday. And if Eva was having second thoughts about their relationship, he didn’t want to cause her or them any more strife or chaos than required.
So he shook his head. “No, sir. Not courting. Just getting to know the new neighbor. Her kids are Freddie’s age, so we’re becoming friends is all.”
Mr. Gallagher’s eyes developed a twinkle, and his mouth crooked up on one side. “I won’t say a word of it to Mrs. Gallagher.” He crossed his index finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes but instead simply thanked his neighbor and then headed back to his truck, pulled out of Eva’s driveway and into his own.
He’d watch her yard like a hawk until daybreak if he had to, just to make sure she and the kids were okay. Then, and only then, when he saw her soccer-mom minivan in the driveaway and it was a reasonable hour, would he head on over and ask to reschedule their date, because unless Eva was giving him the brush-off, he wasn’t ready to let this woman go. She’d buried herself deep beneath his skin, her name was like a song he just couldn’t stop singing, and her smile was something he would never grow tired of seeing.
He’d only known Eva Marchand for a short while, but what he did know, he liked. She was the real deal, and she was worth waiting for.
11
With the best of intentions, Scott stayed awake for as long as he could, one ear tuned to the house and driveway next door. But sleep was too enticing. Like a seductive vixen with red hair and green eyes, she lured him into her depths. He was snoring and drooling on his pillow when the sound of the recycling truck outside doing morning pickup abruptly woke him from his slumber. Literally peeling his face off his pillow, he sat up—still in his clothes—scratched his balls like he always did, then headed over to the window to see if Eva was home yet.
She wasn’t.
No van. No kids. No recycling bins out.
Fear and unease tickled the back of his neck like an irritating wasp, and he swatted it away, hoping that Eva and the kids were sleeping at Celeste’s for the night and they weren’t all up at the hospital after having ingested rat poison disguised as Alphaghetti.
Freddie loved Alphaghetti.
So did Scott.
He needed a fucking shower, then coffee, and then he needed to get his ass to work. It was going to be a late fucking day too. Todd Fletcher liked Scott’s pitch so much, he decided he not only wanted Dynamic Creative to take on his new distillery, but he wanted to turn over marketing the majority of his holdings to Scott and his team.
Cha-ching. But also, fuck.
This meant he would have to see more of Todd.
Didn’t the man have a general manager or underling of some kind he could pawn all this shit off on? Scott would much rather work with the underling. With anybody else, really.
So the entire day was going to be spent poring over all the other companies that Todd owned—with his trusty marketing team, of course—and figuring out new and innovative ways to advertise. He was least looking forward to developing new marketing strategies for Todd’s bevy of strip clubs. The man really was all class.
He divested himself of his clothes, turned the water on in the shower and then stood there with his hand beneath the spray until it grew warm. This was not how he had hoped to be spending his morning. No sir.
With Eva’s sister and the boys just next door, he’d hoped that Eva would have accompanied him home last night. They would have shared a nightcap. Then, perhaps, they would have tumbled into bed, becoming nocturnal beings, exploring each other’s bodies until the wee hours of the morning, only for her to fall asleep with her head on his chest. The two of them would enjoy one last tryst in the shower the next morning. A reprise of their shower that first night in the hotel room.