Eve + Michael

His dark mood was intensified by the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway and he swiveled in his chair to glance out the window overlooking the front lawn. An older Toyota sedan pulled around the circular drive and came to rest directly in front of the wide steps leading up to the wraparound porch. Probably some salesman making rounds. He didn’t recognize the car, and Aaron Timmons delivered his groceries every Wednesday morning around eleven o’clock in his beat-up Cavalier.

The driver unfolded from the car and his eyebrows lifted as he took in the unmistakable female curves. Her blonde hair glinted like gold in the bright afternoon sun, but her face was hidden behind a pair of giant sunglasses.

Something about her niggled at the back of his brain and his eyes swept over her, trying to determine the source of his disquietude. While on tour, he’d learned to trust his gut. Call it intuition, instinct, whatever the hell else, but it had saved his ass several times in combat.

Michael shook off the thought. Seriously, he was losing his damn mind. How dangerous could one tiny woman be? Apprehension coupled with anticipation snaked through him as he continued to watch her. He’d been home for the better part of a year and, though he didn’t venture out often, he could if he had to. He was adjusting to his prosthesis and he didn’t jump at every loud noise anymore, but there was one thing he just hadn’t been able to do yet. He still couldn’t bring himself to be with a woman. He was tired of jerking off in the shower, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to jump back in the dating pool. He’d had enough blows to his self-esteem and he wasn’t sure he could handle any more rejection at this point.

The woman walked around the car and his groin tightened in appreciation. Her loose white blouse billowed away from her body in the slight breeze, and her capris stopped just below her knees. She was dressed primly, almost business-like, but he could tell even from here that she was gorgeous. And that ass. Perfection. She opened the passenger door and retrieved something from the floor board, then made her way to the front door.

Probably pamphlets, he thought to himself as he rolled his eyes. Take a hike, Lady. God and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye these days.

Fortunately, he’d had the foresight to have an intercom system installed for this reason alone. He didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t really even want to talk to anyone. He could just push a button from the comfort of this chair and tell everyone to go fuck themselves. He smiled in a sort of twisted satisfaction when the buzzer sounded a moment later, and he barked into the receiver. “Yeah?”

He knew he was being kind of an asshole to this poor, unsuspecting woman, but his bad mood was spilling over now and he just couldn’t rein it in. The woman was silent for so long it started to grate on his nerves. “What do you want?” he growled.

“Um… Mr. Donovan? You probably don’t remember me. I’m Eve—Evelyn—Walsh, Suzanne and Edward’s daughter…”

Michael didn’t hear the rest. He vaulted from the chair, stumbling down the stairs as fast as his bum leg could carry him.

She was still stuttering into the intercom when he wrenched the front door open, and her big blue eyes widened as they locked with his, her full lips parted in surprise.

Holy Jesus. It was her.