Chapter Ten
Eve knew she was dreaming. She was locked in one of those half-asleep, half-awake type of deals—and desperately holding on
to the overnight world her imagination had built. Because in her imagination, there was no reason to say no to sex with Madden.
There was no reason to say no to anything. And her body had been highly, highly keyed up since last night when Madden watched her dance topless, followed by several prolonged touches. Nearness to his hard,
sculpted mouth.
When he’d yanked up her skirt in the parking lot, this dream that was more of a fantasy, if she was honest with herself, had
been inevitable.
Eve’s legs squirmed in the sheets of her bed now, because in her feverish imagination, Madden didn’t stop at flashing the
parking lot her panties, he pulled them all the way down to her ankles, smoothing his huge catcher’s hand over her bare butt
cheek, squeezing and lifting it roughly. With his hot mouth riding up and down the column of her neck, he turned her, throwing
her up against the side of the car, his hands everywhere, stroking over her breasts, molding her hips, pinning them to the
car roughly with his lap when she wiggled to tease him, growling praise into her ear.
Who’s my good girl?
In the predawn light of her bedroom, Eve moaned into her closed mouth, her fingers busy in her panties, her middle and ring fingers rubbing circles against her clit, an abundance of moisture making her slippery.
More slippery than she could ever remember being, because oh god, she could still feel his hands on her body from last night.
Could still see the lust in his eyes before she covered up her bare breasts.
How long had he watched her dance?
What if he hadn’t spoken up and she’d ended up in nothing but panties?
Eve’s neck arched, her mouth opening in a silent O, heels digging into the mattress as she sank two fingers inside herself, slipping them back out slowly and stroking that
swelling part of herself while tension increased in her belly.
“Come on, come on, come on,” she whispered.
Back to the parking lot. Madden had her flattened to the side of the vehicle, a hand moving against her backside, the other
one unzipping his pants. That’s when a car pulled into the parking lot, a black Mercedes with tinted windows. Idling. No one
got out, it just remained there with headlights on, pointing directly at Eve and Madden.
“Show everyone who you spread your legs for,” he said into her neck, his accent thicker in his need. Then he covered her mouth
with his left hand and rammed himself deep, right there in the twin spotlights, grunting his approval at the feel of her.
“So tight.”
Eve rolled over to orgasm, whimpering as quietly as possible into the pillow, humping the heel of her hand once and grinding
into it, the relief like a downpour from above, her muscles constricting and relaxing, before going through the cycle all
over again, her toes stretched and straining. Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
As soon as the waves of bliss abated, she rolled over once again and stared up at the ceiling, the sheets clinging to her clammy skin, trying to catch her breath.
As always, when the faceless audience made an appearance in her dreams, she felt conflicted.
On one hand, she didn’t believe women should ever feel shame for their sexual fantasies.
Without her own sexual experience to draw from, all she had were fantasies.
They were safe. Especially when they were contained inside one’s own head. But much like that recent evening
when she’d prepared to perform burlesque for the first time, the motive was what gave her pause.
She’d told Skylar and Madden and even herself that she was performing onstage to bring in more of an audience. Locals who
would pay to see her fulfill the destiny of taking off her clothes onstage, the way they’d always predicted. And while that
had something to do with her decision to perform, that wasn’t the full reason.
Something inside her liked being . . . coveted. Objectified.
Problem was, she didn’t know how much of her childhood at the strip club played into this. Was her fascination healthy? Was
it okay to explore or would it lead to Eve confronting her early introduction to sex?
Eve’s weekday morning alarm went off and she sighed, reaching over to tap the dismiss button. If the kids weren’t sick, she’d
be getting them up for school right now. Today, they needed lots of rest and fluids, plus the antibiotics. When they woke up today, there was a good chance they’d already be feeling better, thank goodness.
I’ve got this.
Allowing herself a few extra minutes in bed, Eve scrolled through her emails, deleting advertisements and moving invoice reminders
to her work folder, to be dealt with later.
When? It was anyone’s guess.
Her fingers paused on the screen when she came across an email with the subject heading: You Have New Test Results. Sent from the urgent care where she’d taken the twins.
Her pulse started to thrum a little faster when she opened the attachment and saw the word asthma.
“What the . . .” She sat up in bed, reading from the beginning.
Presence of wheezing in the patient’s lungs. Follow-up appointment with pulmonologist recommended. Asthma likely present.
Asthma. Landon had asthma.
Had her sister been aware of this? What did this mean?
How dangerous was this condition for her nephew?
Eve got out of bed and pulled on a robe, doing her best not to overreact. “Pulmonologist. Okay.” She’d just started googling
local results for pediatric pulmonology when there was a knock at the door of her apartment, and for a split second Eve was
dead positive it was her sister standing out in the hall—and she had no idea how to feel about that. Dread over losing the
kids and their presence in her life. Relief that she wouldn’t have to figure this scary shit out alone. Dread, relief, dread.
“Who is it?” Eve called, approaching the door.
“It’s me. It’s Veda.”
Eve stopped in her tracks, frowning . . . yet, still decidedly more relieved than she’d been when suspecting the knocker was
her sister. “Oh.” She opened the door and stepped back to let the young woman inside, smiling absently at her saddle shoes,
high-waisted jeans, and polka-dot tube top. “Did you leave something here last night?”
“Nope, I’m just being the go-getter my parents always wanted.”
Eve stared at her blankly.
Veda let out a small huff. “I’m here to present my business idea, bro. I was going to drop it on you last night, but you seemed
tired and distracted.”
Understatement. “That I was.”
“Any better this morning?”
“No, but there’s coffee for that. Have a seat.” Eve scrubbed at her face on her way into the kitchen, hitting the button to
heat up her single cup brewer, taking two mugs out of the cabinet while Veda hopped onto one of the stools at the breakfast
bar. “You mentioned your parents. Do you live with them?” Eve asked.
“Much to their dismay, yes. I’ll be the last to leave.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three. My younger brother is in his first year of college at Tulane. The middle one is backpacking through Europe, as we
speak. And my older sister is the real estate queen I mentioned last night.”
“Right, the one with her face on the benches.”
“Yup. I can’t even go to the store without being reminded I’m the slacker sibling.”
Eve snorted. “Slackers don’t get up this early.”
“Actually, I haven’t gone to sleep yet.” Veda covered a yawn. “My friend had a late gig in Providence. I made it in time for
the last set.”
“Damn.” Eve stared down at the steaming coffee as it filled the mug. “I’m only twenty-two and somehow you’re making me feel
old.”
Veda hooted. “All right, I’m going to shoot my shot.
Are you ready?” She shook out her hands as her coffee mug was set down in front of her, along with the milk jug and some sugar packets.
“You’ve got that acre of space behind the club, right?
It’s sitting there, unused. But what if you could turn it into something that would offer a whole new revenue stream? ”
“Big words for seven a.m.” Eve blew on her coffee, which she took black. “Go on.”
“Like I said, I had to drive to Providence last night for a gig. We don’t have any music venues around here. And there are
plenty of musicians in Cumberland and the surrounding areas—you just don’t see us because we’re all sleeping in our parents’
basements. Not to mention, everyone is looking for somewhere to go on Friday and Saturday nights. As of now, there are only
two options in this town. Bar one or bar two. Sad, right?” She wet her cherry-red lips. “We could put an addition on the back
of Gilded Garden. For shows. And maybe have an outdoor venue option as well, for summer nights.” Veda shifted in her chair,
excited by her pitch. “Picture blue lights in the woods, the low pluck of my bass. We’ll put down pavers for the tables and
chairs. Like a half-moon patio. A stage. The bar could be inside, but have a walk-up window to serve the outside customers.
Realistically, the venue would only open two, maybe three nights a week, but you’d have that space to rent out for parties.
Or whatnot.” Veda paused for breath. “I can’t read you. What are you thinking?”
Eve hid the dreamlike expression that was trying to take command of her face. Remodeling the Gilded Garden and decorating
it to create a timeless escape had been her favorite part of the last four years. Because she’d been building toward something. Something she’d dreamed would be a success. Had that happened, though?
No.
Eve sipped her coffee. “I like the idea, Veda, but I don’t have the extra capital to make it happen right now.
We’re talking six figures here.” It hurt to expose a weakness out loud, but she liked this girl and wanted to impress on her that she wasn’t getting a brush-off.
“The club . . . is still finding its footing.”