Page 29 of Sneak Attack

I was shaking my head. At both the story and the thought of Selma doing that to me. She wouldn’t. As soon as the town heard what she was pulling, they’d turn on her. She had to know that.

“Sucks about your mom,” Davis mumbled. “Mine’s awesome.”

“So was mine until my dad caught her in bed with his best friend while Crystal and I were at school.”

“Damn. That’s harsh. But Selma—” I shook my head. I couldn’t see her doing anything that vicious.

“She would. Especially with as pissed as she sounded. So what was it that ticked her off this time? You didn’t like her hug or was it because you still refuse to marry her?”

“Both. Neither,” I admitted. Dawson and I were friends. Davis was a rookie, but he was more responsible than most and even though he was five years younger than us, fresh out of college, had a maturity about him I sure as hell wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t become a father by his age.

“It’s a girl,” I finally admitted. I could trust these guys, and Dawson had already been up my ass about my focus lately.

“I knew it.” He shook his head with fatherly disappointment even my own didn’t possess.

“Of course it’s a girl.” Davis stabbed his kale salad with a fork. “It’s always a girl. So who is she?”

There was no way to truly explain Eden. She was the girl who stole my heart when it was committed to another. She was the mirage I searched for in every crowded area for years. She was the ghost returned to haunt me all over again.

And she was still the only woman my soul ever truly beat for.

She was also my greatest mistake.

My biggest regret in a number of ways.

“She’s Eden.” I settled on her name and the weight that came with it and hoped at least Dawson picked up on it.

Davis didn’t, but he wasn’t the one I got black out drunk with one night and spilled all my darkest truths to my second year in the league after a particularly nasty fight with Selma.

“Eden…” Dawson, who had gone silent, drawled out her name in a way ants crawled down my spine. “TheEden?”

“Yeah. She’s back in Marysville.”

Dawson, typically our quiet grump, pushed his lips out. “Huh. Well, that explains your attitude lately.”

Davis’s eyes jumped between us. “What am I missing?”

“A brain between your ears and eight inches between your legs.” Dawson grinned at him and tossed a fry into his mouth.

“Nice.” I barked out a laugh that grabbed the attention of the table next to us.

Tugging down my cap, I made sure I’d spoken quietly. That we’d all been quiet, but we had been. And the people next to us, looking older than us, probably early thirties with a toddler wearing an oversized pink bow in her hair and squirming in her highchair, barely paid us attention.

“Fuck off, Butler,” Davis groaned. “I’ve got plenty of both.”

“Sure, kid.”

Davis, showing his maturity, rolled his eyes and turned back to me. “So, who’s Eden? Or is it just some euphemism for a woman’s secret garden?”

“Eupha what?”

“Now who doesn’t have a brain,” Davis teased Dawson.

I ignored the visual his lovely question gave me about Edenandher secret garden as he put it. “Long story. She was friends with us, though. Selma, me…Hilary…”

He was silent a beat. Gaze focused on me in a way that was way too deep for dinner and a burger. “Got it.”

He picked up his burger and took a huge bite, acting like he had me all figured out.

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