Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Eve has just graduated from high school, but she doesn’t know what’s next aside from working at the local motel, spying on Kyle, her neighbor, and stealing apples from his orchard. If she doesn’t figure things out soon, she’ll be stuck at home and treated like a child forever.
Kyle is a single dad and the new football coach who needs a babysitter for his adorable son. When he meets Eve, there’s an instant connection because she reminds him of someone—himself. But Eve is the preacher’s daughter, off-limits, and Kyle has already had his heart trampled by his ex.
After earning his son’s affection with her homemade apple sauce and youthful spirit, Eve asks Kyle to teach her things like driving his fishing boat and shooting his hunting bow. Despite his better judgment, he agrees, but swears Eve to secrecy so no one gets the wrong idea about them.
Their playful banter and innocent flirting crosses a line, and Kyle misses the heartbreaking secret Eve’s hidden in plain sight.
When tragedy strikes, can they find their way back to each other?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
MADONNA, “CAUSING A COMMOTION”
1987
Eve
I wasn’t dead, but I was grounded at least six feet under. My father didn’t say the word “eternity” when he took my car keys and banished me to my room “for the foreseeable future,” but it was sternly implied.
He found my stash of alcohol buried by the creek that ran between our lot and the five acres that had just sold next to us on the outskirts of Devil’s Head, Missouri.
“Your dad’s worried,” Mom said, poking her head into my bedroom as I leered out the window through binoculars at the moving van backed up to the white farmhouse past the small orchard of apple trees.
My room was the only room in the house with a full view of the farmhouse.
“Yeah? Well, what’s new?” I mumbled, watching a young child run up and down the ramp at the back of the truck as two guys carried a sofa into the house.
“Eve, what are you looking at? Where did you get those binoculars?”
“They were in the attic. And I’m looking at the new neighbors since I have nothing better to do.”
She plucked the binoculars from my hands and brought them to her eyes, scrunching her nose. “Don’t you have homework?” she asked, leaning closer to the window.
“No,” I laughed and grabbed them back from her. “Duh. I graduated.”
“Oh.” She tried to hide her grin. “Sorry. It’s just a habit to ask you that. You know who our new neighbor is, don’t you?” She sat on the end of my bed.
“No,” I said with a frown. “No one tells me anything except to do my homework.”
“Eve, it’s Fred Collins’ younger brother. Do you remember Fred?”
“Dad’s friend from seminary school?” I asked.
“Yes, and he was the best man at our wedding.”
“And yet, you married dad. Does that mean you settled for the second-best man?”
“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny. His name is Kyle, and he has a five-year-old son, but I don’t know his name. We should introduce ourselves and see if they need help. Yesterday, Dad told Fred that you and Gabby would be willing to babysit Kyle’s little boy.”
I glanced back at my mom and offered a fake smile. “How nice of him to offer my services.”
“You can’t clean motel rooms forever.”
“I mean,”—I shrugged—“I could. It’s a real job. Someone has to do it,” I said, demonstrating my inability to shut my mouth. My specialty was making ridiculous and often frivolous cases for things that didn’t matter. And jokes. I loved a good joke.
“Also, sweetie, now that he bought that house, the apple trees belong to him. You can no longer take apples from the orchard without permission from Mr. Collins.”
“As if he’s going to know. Do you think he’ll keep an exact count?”
Mom sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “We taught you better, young lady. You’re eighteen. Out of high school. And—”
“Grounded. Yes. I’m aware. That seems ridiculous. Adults shouldn’t be grounded. I think Grandma Bonnie should ground your as—” I cleared my throat. “Your butt for the speeding ticket you got in Evansville last month.”
“It was a warning.”
I smirked. “Because you flirted with the cop.”
“Eve Marie Jacobson, I did not flirt with the cop.” Her cheeks turned ten shades of pink. “Listen, you live under our roof, and there are rules. If you break them, there has to be consequences,” she repeated the same lines for the millionth time. “Had the cop given me a ticket, I would have had to pay it. That would have been the consequence of my action.”
I brought the binoculars to my eyes again. One of the guys carried a box toward the front door. “I’m not sure treating me like a child is a fair punishment. I should get some leniency since I finished so much homework that they gave me a diploma. Or can’t you just give me a ticket that I can pay? What about a warning? If I unbutton the top of my blouse and gasp as if I have no idea I’m breaking some law and fake a deep Southern accent with lots of ‘oh mys’ and ‘golly gee willikers,’ would you let me off with a warning?”