After We Fall (Take the Fall, #3)(12)

As soon as we wrap up our conversation, I grab a beer and head to the door, checking on Jake as he snoozes away in his bed in front of the fireplace.

“Want to go outside, boy?” I ask.

He opens one eye and then lets out a huff.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Ruffling the fur on his head as I pass by, I have to laugh. Jake’s no spring chicken, but he’s not ancient. However, when he’s done, he’s done for the day. The college kid over in apartment A comes to check on Jake and walk him twice a day between classes, so I know he’s being taken care of.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the dog park when I get home.”

Jake’s tail thumps on the floor.

“Yeah, I’ve seen the honey you have your eyes on. We’re going to make that happen.” If I could fist-bump Jake, I would, mostly because I’m sure he would give me the same back. I’m really going to hate it when a family finally adopts him.

By the time I get to the parking lot, Evangeline is scrubbing the right side of her car. I make sure my steps are loud so that she hears me. Sneaking up on her would only make her run.

“Need some help?”

Blue-green eyes peer up at me through black lashes and her plump lips part. Damn, she’s pretty. Those plump lips of hers thin for a moment. “I’m perfectly capable of washing my own car.”

“Yeah, but washing a car is a two-person job.” I won’t be deterred by her brush-off, but I won’t frighten her, either. It’s a seriously fine line I have to walk for this woman. But for some reason, I already know she’s worth it.

Sticking my hand into the bucket between us, I grab a sponge and start washing the front-door panel while she works on the back. She makes a noise but doesn’t order me away.

I consider this the greatest victory in the history of victories. We work in silence until it’s time to rinse. Our hands reach for the water hose at the same time and my hand covers hers.

Desire flares. I tighten my grip a little.

Evangeline’s eyes widen and she gasps, but before she can snatch her hand away from mine, I let go.

“Ladies first.” I give her my friendliest smile, but the pink blooming on her cheeks turns red.

“I—um…thanks.” She sprays the car down and moves to the front.

Immediately, I dunk the sponge in the soapy water again and start scrubbing at the pain-in-the-ass grille. It’s like a bug graveyard.

After a beat or two, she joins me, and we continue this silent dance around the entire car until it’s gleaming. Finally, she tosses the hose down and crosses her arms. Water makes her skin slick-looking.

“What do you want?” she asks.

My reply is immediate. “World peace.”

Her eyes narrow. “Try again.”

“What do you have against world peace?” I lean against my truck, which is parked right beside her car.

This time her mouth falls open. There’s a fire in her eyes that I would love to get burned by. “I don’t have anything against world peace. Sheesh.”

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice low and husky.

She blinks, as if no one has asked her that in a long time. “For you to tell me the real reason you helped me wash my car.”

“You got me, angel.” I put up my hands in mock surrender. “I do want something from you.”

“Figures,” she mutters, then starts to gather her things.

“I’d like to borrow your stuff so I can wash my truck”—I wait a beat before adding—“neighbor.”

“I bet you would—wait.” Her nose scrunches. “You want to what?”

I want to laugh at the adorably confused look on her face, but I don’t. “Borrow your stuff”—I nod at the bucket and bottle of liquid soap—“so I can wash my truck. It’s been a while and after today, I really don’t feel like making the drive down to the Wash and Go.”

“Oh.” The self-righteous state she almost worked herself into seems to leave her. “Sure, but…since you helped me, I’ll be neighborly and help you. Then we’ll be even-steven.”

“Even-steven.” I level her with a look. “People still say that?”

She tips up her chin. “I still say that. So does my momma. In fact, she was the one to teach it to me.”

I purposefully soften my face. “Moms are great for stuff like that. I know my mom is.”

Her rigid stance finally relaxes. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?”

Grabbing on to that as my opening, I refill the bucket with liquid soap and then add water as I say, “How was your day?”

“Fine.” She swallows. “How was yours?”

“Shitty.”

“I’ve had days like that.” She turns away from me, her shirt riding up on one side. There’s a white line that curves around her waist. It’s short in length, but I know who it’s from, and I can only imagine what her shitty days were like.

Fucking piece of shit ex.

My hands tighten into fists and my jaw clenches, but I take a steadying breath to calm down. Without a doubt, Evangeline would bolt if she saw how furious I am right now, and that’s the last thing I want her to do.

“Well,” I begin, attempting to lighten the tone, “I might be upset because my partner got promoted. He actually called to check on me because I wouldn’t speak to him today.” Yeah, I probably sound like a little punk-ass, but I figure she will appreciate the truth.