Chapter 1
Word of the day: GAMBLE- Any matter or thing involving risk or hazardous uncertainty
No matter how hard Evie Barker tried to manage each day, this one had gotten away from her. It had started as soon as she arrived at the nursing home where she worked, but before the actual paid portion of her day began. Like she did every day, she’d stopped by her momma’s room to feed her the specially made oatmeal she picked up from her favorite diner, Two Chicks and Bacon. But momma had been out of sorts. Crying, refusing to eat, and escalating to such a state of inconsolability she’d required a sedative.
From there the day went to hell fast and included a patient falling in the shower—thankfully not while she was providing therapy—and a rampant, building-wide stomach bug, which made everyone, residents and staff, short tempered at best. The day’s tone spoke of a foreboding of tonight’s full moon or perhaps worse, an omen of “something wicked this way comes.”
Pulling in her driveway, she forgot the disaster of the day and the state of her stained scrubs as she stared at the large U-Haul parked at the family-home-turned-frat-house next door. An old lobster trap, a telescope, an olive green trunk, and a lamp made from an old musket with a fringed shade were in the yard.
Those items could go either way. Was it possible her new neighbor was an old man and not a college student?
She wanted to cheer. A nice, quiet old man who would prune his bushes and keep to himself. Evie buried her face in her hands. What in the world was wrong with her that she was excited that her new neighbor might be elderly? She hated that after a year of neighbors who were frequently seen in the buff as they streaked down the street or hosted all night beer pong championships, she was desperate for the polar opposite. Yes, a nice old man who took advantage of the early bird special, played shuffleboard, and if she were lucky—after the day she had that was doubtful—one who would keep his eyes on the neighborhood would be a delight. Evie’s gaze settled on the telescope. Yeah, keep his eyes on the neighborhood by using his telescope to look into other’s windows?
She weighed the probabilities: creepy old man, nice old man, college student. The odds didn’t look favorable.
Chewing the edge of her thumbnail, eyes narrowed, she considered her options and tallied the risks. Normally, Evie would go inside and hope for the best, but after two weeks of peace and quiet, she wasn’t about to leave it to chance the new renters would be dream neighbors. Her hydrangea bushes were still suffering PTSD. Apparently, the last occupants thought vomit was fertilizer. She couldn’t rely on the hope word had spread on campus that this neighborhood was unfriendly for all-night raves. She needed to make sure, in no uncertain terms, these new neighbors knew there would be no funny business happening in that house. This was a respectable neighborhood.
Today's pick on her word-of-the-day app, Gamble, was the ideal word for her, especially as her current resolution was to mix things up. This new neighbor situation was the perfect opportunity to do just that and stretch her comfort zone. But for Evie, a creature of habit, risk was a filthy, bad word, belonging in the same family as madness, hysteria, and turmoil, and it gave her heartburn. She took three deep yoga breaths.
Honestly, there was no better time to go against her normal inclination of hiding in her house and waiting to see what would happen. Hadn’t she decided her life was dull and she needed to mix things up a little? Isn’t that why she’d cut seven inches off her hair, broken up with her duller-than-dull boyfriend? Because she knew little things needed to change. If she was going to have a constant internal conversation about changing her life then she’d better start right now, with the opportunity that had nearly fallen on her doorstep.
After getting out of the car, she eased the door closed, paused, opened it and gave it a good slam before straightening her spine and rallying her courage. Evie adopted what she hoped was a good impersonation of her take-no-shit friend Lorelei’s resting bitch face and, using long strides, walked across her yard and into the neighbor’s.
Seriously, a lamp made from an old shotgun? Who bought that stuff?
“Hello,” Evie called out and stepped into the opened garage. “Hello?” She felt her expression slip. The longer her calls went unanswered the more effort it took to keep the look going. She sucked in a deep breath and tried again, placing her hands on her hips for added emphasis.
“Hello,” she said louder.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” a man yelled. His voice came from the cut out square above her on the ceiling. The attic space, she assumed. He sounded older than a frat boy, his voice deep, almost gravelly with the slightest southern drawl. The odds for creepy or nice old guy were fifty-fifty.
“I’m your neighbor,” she said, using a tone she hoped matched her expression.
“Jeez, sorry. I’ll be right with you. I was....” Strong tanned legs with just the right amount of dark hair appeared out of the hole in the ceiling. They dangled for a moment before the rest slowly came into view. Dark green cargo shorts and a navy t-shirt, the words Semper Fi scrolled across a chest deserving more than a cursory glance. The t-shirt hugged his body in such a way no time was needed to ponder what was underneath, but instead allowed the imagination to run free.
What a person could do to a body that defined. She came up with five things in that small flash of time and none of them required clothing.
He hung briefly from the ledge before dropping to the ground with an ease that made Spiderman look clumsy.
“...checking out the condition of the house. I heard...”
She stared into flint colored eyes. That combination of blue and gray could only belong to one person. At least, she’d never seen eyes that color on anyone else, ever, and try as she might she’d never been able to wipe those eyes from her memory.
Grady Duke.
How long had it been since his name drifted across her mind?
Years of memories flashed before her as she took in the face of the guy who was responsible for all her firsts. From kisses to sex, she’d done it all with Grady and all over the course of the summer before her sophomore year. Evie rubbed the space between her breasts with the heel of her hand, hoping to ease the sudden burn of indigestion.
Gamble.
Grady Duke had been a high stakes game on which she’d gambled and lost. She’d offered him her virginity and he’d taken it, only to end things by moving on to someone else a week later. She knew she’d been expecting too much, hoping he would want to be with her more than he’d ever wanted or had been with anyone else. But Grady had proven what others said about him to be true.
“Evie Barker?”
Same square chin, same long nose, which on another person would almost be too slender, but on Grady’s slightly narrow face only made him look stronger. His dark brown hair was cut close. As she absorbed it all, she realized her resting bitch face had been replaced with what was probably mouth open, catching flies face.
Time had been good to him.
“Grady. What are you...?” The collision of thoughts left her brain addled. “How are you...uh....” She scrambled to gather her wits. “Lord help me,” she mumbled.
Seeing him again came with a jumbled mess of emotions. Surprised, she found herself just as breathless as she’d been back then, her heart thumping erratically. Yet, the soured taste of disappointment at having something beautiful end the way it had, suddenly and stupidly, weighed equally on her. She’d long thought she’d gotten over their summer together.
“You look great. Wow. Check you out. You’re the last person I thought I’d run into here.”
“Here? Here like this house or—?” Sweet Jesus. She should shut up.
“Here in Lakeland. I always thought you’d blow out of town first chance you got.”
“Kinda like you did.” She hadn’t meant to say it. Think it, sure, but out loud it sounded so rude.
She’d spent her entire sophomore year avoiding Grady Duke. It had helped he’d been a senior and they didn’t have any classes together. Outside of the one incident at Shawn Field’s party, she’d been successful. Nonetheless, when he’d left for the Marine Corps soon after graduation, she’d nearly wept with relief. Out of sight, out of mind and she'd tucked that chapter of her life was neatly away, for the most part, forgotten.
“The Marine Corps doesn’t have a base in Lakeland so chances of staying were pretty slim.” He laughed and reached across his chest to scratch his shoulder, and a large tattoo of the Marine Corps insignia on his bicep caught her eye. “I’d heard you left for college but didn’t know you’d come back. I’m surprised you’re still in town.”
There was no derision toward Lakeland in his voice, just confusion. If there was one person, other than Lorelei, who had seen a true glimpse into her childhood, it was Grady. Not because she’d willingly shared that part, but hiding it had been difficult. There’d been more nights than she’d care to count when she and Grady, coming home from a night together, would find her father stumbling down the road, having left his car at the last place he’d been drinking. Grady would help her get him inside. Refusing to let their night end that way, he’d convince her to sit on the tailgate of his truck, tucked between his legs, and they’d wish on stars and talk about life after Lakeland.
“My momma’s still here so...”
“Ah, that’s right.” Even though Grady had been long gone, serving his country, when the accident occurred, it was clear from his sorrowful expression he knew what happened. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your dad, too.”
“Thanks.” She was surprised. Folks never said they were sorry about her dad’s passing, likely because he’d been driving drunk and colliding with the corner of their house had sent him through the windshield, killing him on impact. Her momma hadn’t been so lucky. When her father overshot the driveway, crossing the grass, he never saw her momma standing in the yard, and pinned her between the car and house.
Evie’d been told, more than she’d been offered condolences, how fortunate they were not to have to go through the trial of watching the state convict her father. But usually those comments came from the same people who’d made it a habit of laughing at her family long before the accident.
“Looks like your yard gnome’s been stolen,” they’d said, when on the rare occasion her father actually passed out inside the house instead of on the lawn.
“So what are you doing here? I mean in this house, well...and in town... Is this the first time you’ve come home?” All these years and she’d never run into him.
“I took a position at Florida Southern. My dad’s been sick. The timing of this job and the opportunity to come home and help coincided, so here I am, renting this house.”
“A happy coincidence, I hope.”
He shrugged. “I was eyeing something closer to where more Civil War events occurred. But this works for now. Look at you. I always knew you’d be successful. You’re an occupational therapist. Sounds interesting.”
“How did you know?” She tried to smooth her wrinkled and stained scrubs. She picked a patch of dried oatmeal off her sleeve and noticed a large, gross, brown spot on the cuff of her pants. There was no telling what other disturbing stains might be clinging to her. If she were bold enough to sniff her pits in his presence, she wouldn’t be surprised if she smelled. Suddenly, she wanted to escape to her house and restart this moment as something less of a hot mess. Why did he always have to see her at her worst?
“I read it on your badge. Your hair is much longer in this picture.” With a smile, he lifted the badge hanging from her lanyard and showed it to her. His fingers grazed the top of her stomach and a burst of heat flooded her chest. Her knees wobbled and the same butterflies that had fluttered nonstop that summer long ago revisited her. She stared at his fingers, willing them to touch her again, wondering if it was the newness of seeing him or the rekindling of the same old flame that left her unsteady.
Trying to find equilibrium, she sucked in her gut and forced out a steady breath and a nervous giggle. She grabbed her badge from him and twisted it in her hand. “Duh. Of course you knew that from my badge.” She glanced at her terrible badge picture. She. Hated. It. With her fat braid and bland scrubs, she looked like a matronly resident and not an employee.
“I just cut my hair last week,” she mumbled.
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, you mentioned my hair.” She showed him the badge picture, her thumb over her face. “I cut it last week.”
Yes, she was looking for something new this week that she could change up, but as she stared at Grady’s smiling face, she made a vow. There was no way in hell he would be her next change.
“I like it. Of course, I liked the braid, too. That’s how I remember you.” He shifted his weight to the other foot and stuck his hands in his front pockets. The change in position drew her attention to the span of his broad shoulders and how his t-shirt hugged his biceps.
Evie gave into her nerves and giggled. She sounded like a crazy, unstable person with her weird conversation skills and unexplained laughter. The need to escape before the heat from her chest crawled up her face propelled her into action.
Taking a step back, she said, “Welcome home. I just popped by to make sure more hooligans like those who lived here last time hadn’t moved in. They were so loud. Always partying and being naked and....”
Oh. My. Word.
She took several more steps back. She had to get out before she sounded any more like a sixty-year-old woman. “I mean, not that I don’t like parties or being naked—”
Shut. Up. This was going south, fast.
“Or both at the same time?” he teased.
“Ha.” She pointed her finger at him, her badge still tucked in her palm. “Yeah, all the above. It was good seeing you.” She backed out into the sun, gave a wave, and hauled butt home.
“See you around,” he called.
When she got inside, she leaned against the door and tried to steady her pounding heart.
Wow, Grady Duke.
One thing was certain, making an idiot out of herself in his presence always happened. History certainly liked to repeat itself.
