Holding on to Chaos: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  About This Book

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Holding on to Chaos

  Blue Moon

  Book 5

  Lucy Score

  Published by That’s What She Said Publishing Inc. 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental

  HOLDING ON TO CHAOS: BLUE MOON BOOK 5

  September 25, 2017

  Copyright © 2017 Lucy Score

  Written by Lucy Score

  All rights reserved

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  About This Book

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  Author’s Note to the Reader

  About the Author

  Lucy’s Titles

  Acknowledgements

  Where’s Lucy?

  Dedication

  To Dawn. Thanks to your eagle eyes, readers can enjoy my books without 70,000 typos.

  About This Book

  Eva is a hot mess running from her past and doesn’t mind telling a fib or two to protect her secrets. It’s too bad that she moved to the nosiest small town in the world with Sheriff Sexy—the tall, built human lie detector. He’s suddenly showing interest and treating every conversation like it’s an interrogation.

  Donovan loves his nice, quiet hippie town, and he’s got some pretty strong feelings when it comes to a certain klutzy redhead, too. But she’s hiding something. Just when he starts to peel back those layers to get to the naked truth, the entire town loses its collective mind—and inhibitions—in what town elders identify as an astrological apocalypse.

  Can he save the girl from her past and the town from itself?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Evangelina Merill was suffocating under a purple paisley wrap sweater that she couldn’t get over her head. Autumn had descended on Blue Moon Bend, rendering her South Carolina work-from-home wardrobe of yoga shorts and tank tops ineffective against the chill.

  At the time, a visit to the town’s thrift shop had seemed like a good idea. But that was before she rapped her elbow on the dressing room wall hard enough to see stars. And before she got this sweater wedged firmly over her face.

  And before the fire alarm went off.

  “Everybody out!” The shopkeeper, a soft, grandmotherly type with a funny name—Meara? Morra?—pounded on Eva’s dressing room door.

  “I’m stuck!” Eva told her, her voice muffled through the fabric.

  The woman yanked open the door, grabbed Eva’s elbow and dragged her toward the door.

  “Is this just a drill?” Eva asked through an armhole.

  “I wish,” the woman puffed. “Forgot the grilled cheese was on the hot plate in the back. Caught a whole rack of hemp blouses and vintage leather vests on fire!”

  That explains the beef jerky smell, Eva thought.

  She felt a wave of heat at her back as the door of the shop closed behind her. And then a draft.

  Oh. Shit. Her pants were on the floor of the dressing room.

  Eva wrestled the sweater off her head in time to see the police cruiser pull up, lights flashing.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” she whispered. “Not him. Not now.” Why did the response time in Blue Moon have to be thirty seconds? And why, dear God why, had she left the house in her navy pinstripe push-up bra and her Let’s Do This cheeky bikinis?

  “Oh, boy.” The woman next to her gazed at her with sympathy. Another dressing room victim, she had long dark hair and was wearing nothing but a bodysuit and Chucks. The woman jumped in front of Eva and stood in a Superman stance.

  “What are you doing?” Eva had to yell the question to be heard over the sirens of the approaching fire trucks.

  “I’m blocking you. You’re new in town. You don’t need your Facebook gossip group debut to be this. I’m Eden, by the way.”

  Eva reached over Eden’s shoulder and offered her hand. “I’m Eva, and I hardly ever go out in public without pants… or a shirt.” They shook awkwardly.

  Sheriff Donovan Cardona, all six-feet-four-inches of sublime male perfection, jumped out of the cruiser. “Everyone out, Mayva?”

  Mayva! That was it.

  It took Donovan all of half a second to zero in on her. She could tell without looking at him because her skin he
ated to approximately one thousand degrees. Her blush was visible from her hairline to her toes. Silently she cursed her redheadedness.

  Donovan was still looking at her, staring really, Eva realized when she peered over Eden’s shoulder. Six firefighters rushed past them and into the store.

  “Eva.” His voice, that delicious gravelly rasp, scraped over her bare skin like a razor.

  “Morning, Sheriff,” she said, attempting cheerful and casual. The man only caught her in embarrassing moments. She had a crush on him the size of North America, and every time he saw her, she was doing something stupid. Falling out of a tree that her nephew Evan dared her to climb, walking into screen doors, appearing practically naked in the middle of town.

  She blinked when a camera shoved its way into her face. “Ladies, can you comment on what happened here?” A scrawny man with wire-rimmed glasses and a digital camera demanded answers.

  “Oh great. The Monthly Moon is here,” Eden groaned.

  “What were you two doing when the fire broke out? Did you set the fire? Was anyone hurt? Are you going to buy those clothes?” He rattled off questions like a journalist at a press briefing, getting extreme close-ups of their pores.

  “Anthony Berkowicz! You snap one more picture, and I’ll shove that damn camera up your damn ass,” Eden threatened.

  “I’m not taking pictures,” he claimed. “I’m shooting video.”

  “Anthony!” Eva and Eden shouted together.

  Eden took a threatening step toward Mr. Nose for News, leaving Eva exposed. Donovan stared, then swore, and stalked back to his car. Eva promised herself right then and there that she wouldn’t leave her house ever again.

  “I have a right to bring Blue Moon the news,” Anthony yelped as Eden made a swipe at his camera.

  The sheriff, without a hint of humor, clapped a hand on the shoulder of Blue Moon’s poor excuse for a journalist. He towered over Anthony, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world. “Count of three, Anthony. If you’re still taking pictures or video or painting a damn picture, I’m cuffing you.”

  Anthony lowered his camera reluctantly. “Can I at least shoot the fire?” he asked, dejected.

  “Fire only. You swing that thing at these two one more time and you won’t like the consequences,” Donovan promised.

  Anthony scampered off to get a better view of the smoke that was pouring from the back of the shop.

  Donovan closed the gap between them and Eva tried to cover her chest and crotch regions. Why were her hands so damn small?

  “Here.” His voice was gruff, but the cotton t-shirt he dragged over her head was oh so soft. It smelled incredible.

  “Thanks,” Eva said, crossing her arms in front of her chest to ward off the chill. He had a good foot on her, and the t-shirt hit her at the knee, covering every bit that needed covered. She wanted to pull the shirt up over her nose and take a deep breath, but that would be weird and creepy with witnesses.

  “You two all right?” he asked.

  Tongue-tied Eva nodded.

  “We’re fine, Sheriff,” Eden answered for the both of them.

  “I gotta go do some traffic control before some idiot drives into a house,” Donovan announced.

  Eva nodded again.

  “When do you think we can get our stuff, Sheriff?” Eden asked. Obviously, the woman was immune to sexy, Eva decided.

  Donovan squinted at the building. Flames were visible in the windows now. “Not sure. I’ll check with the chief and let you both know.”

  Mayva was shouting orders at the firefighters. “Forget the clearance rack! Save the leathers! Oh, and there’s this really cute tunic I had my eye on! No, not that one!”

  Satisfied that everyone was alive and staying a reasonable distance from the flames, Donovan jogged off into the street leaving Eva to enjoy the view of his well-toned ass in his uniform pants.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink and some pants,” Eden announced.

  “My place is two blocks over. I have a six-pack of John Pierce Brew in my fridge and at least four clean pairs of yoga pants,” Eva offered.

  “Winner!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eva had just popped the top on Eden’s beer when the front door of the cottage burst open. “I can’t leave you alone for two seconds without you nearly dying naked in a fire!” Eva’s sister Gia, all long red curls and yoga wear, stormed into the house dragging her husband behind her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “My phone is in my pants, which are on the floor of the dressing room of Second Chances.” At least she wouldn’t have to deal with the dozens of texts and calls from nosy family and neighbors checking in to make sure she was okay, made it home, and put on some clothes.

  “Hi, Eden,” Beckett said, offering a wave. “How’s the B&B?”

  “Business is booming. How’s the lawyer/mayor biz?”

  “Small talk later!” Gia shoved her phone in Eva’s face. “Explain!”

  “I’m going to kill that Anthony guy,” Eva gasped, yanking the phone out of her sister’s grip. Eden crowded in to study the image on the screen. Eva, in her mismatched bra and underwear, was cowering behind the pantless Eden. Sheriff Cardona was staring at them both as if they were a zoo exhibit.

  “At least we look pretty good,” Eden sighed. “Toned. Right?”

  Gia snatched her phone back. “You both look great. Now, how did you start the fire?”

  Eva rolled her eyes. As the youngest in the family, she had a reputation for finding trouble. Her oldest sister Emma was a disciplined adult with schedules and spreadsheets. Gia was a multi-tasking forgetful yoga warrior. And Eva was the misunderstood dreamer. Their father insisted it was her natural sense of adventure that got her into trouble. Her sisters felt it was her disdain for responsibility. Eva thought both theories carried merit.

  “I swear, this time I didn’t do anything. I was trying on clothes when Mayva’s grilled cheese on the hot plate set some inventory on fire.”

  “So, you don’t need a lawyer?” Beckett clarified. He was one of Blue Moon’s infamous Pierces. A trio of brothers so attractive that a magazine had once tried to offer them all modeling contracts. They’d been more embarrassed than flattered.

  “No lawyering necessary,” Eva winked at her brother-in-law. “But I appreciate the familial panic.”

  “I guess we can get back to that thing…” Beckett said, looking hopefully at Gia. The look on his face left no doubt as to what “that thing” was.

  Gia flushed and grinned. “If you’ll excuse us, my husband and I have a… uh, lunch… meeting.” And just as she’d towed him inside, Gia dragged Beckett back out. “Glad you’re alive,” she called over her shoulder. “Bye, Eden!”

  “Afternoon delight?” Eden mused.

  “They look forward to the school year all summer long.”

  Watching her sisters and their husbands enjoy their marital benefits made Eva feel the thinnest edge of jealousy. Not that she begrudged them their happiness. As far as she was concerned, her sisters were the best people in the world next to her father. It was just that she wouldn’t mind ending the dry spell that had plagued her since her move to the hippie town in upstate New York. In her case, a dry spell not only affected her personal life but also her professional life.

  She sighed, and Eden joined her at the kitchen island. They lifted their beers simultaneously.

  “Please tell me all the good men in town aren’t taken,” Eva groaned.

  “I’m sure there are a handful left,” Eden predicted. She didn’t sound confident.

  “So, you run a B&B?” Eva asked, changing the subject

  “Yep,” Eden said, studying the beer bottle. “It’s just south of town. Big, rambling Victorian. Pond. Couple of fluffy dogs.”

  “Oh! Right next to the winery!” Eva had seen the place. Three stories high with turrets, attic rooms, and an incredible navy, purple, and yellow pai
nt scheme that somehow paid charming homage to both the architecture and the town. A burly pair of curly blonde dogs romped the grounds.

  Eden grimaced at the mention of the winery and changed the subject. “What do you do for a living?”

  “Oh, I’m a technical writer. Manuals and instructions mostly. Things like that.” The fib rolled off Eva’s tongue as glibly as the truth. Technically, up until a year ago, it had been the truth.

  “That sounds…”

  “Boring? Coma-inducing?” Eva supplied.

  Eden laughed. “Hey, scrubbing guest toilets and baking muffins every day isn’t exactly glamorous. It’s like being a housewife to a bunch of strangers.”

  “It’s amazing neither one of us has a drinking problem,” Eva joked. She raised her beer in a silent toast.

  “How long do you think it will be before Sheriff Sexy lets us get our stuff out of the shop?” Eden asked.

  “So, it’s not just me? He’s really that gorgeous?”

  “Blindingly beautiful,” Eden agreed.

  “He’s caught me in every embarrassing situation known to single women since I moved here. I think he thinks I’m an idiot.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “He’s pulled me over for speeding the day after I moved in. I fell out of a tree almost on top of him at a picnic, and then I walked into a screen door carrying a cherry pie, and I just know he was watching.”

  “Maybe he’s watching because he’s interested?” Eden suggested.

  “Maybe he was watching because he considers me a menace to society.”

  “At least he’s watching,” Eden pointed out, sliding onto a barstool.

  Eva huffed out a breath.

  Just once in her life she wanted to get the guy. Not the online loser who lied about being divorced or the meet-cute-turned-weirdo who still lived in his mother’s basement and insisted on “no crusts” through the intercom. The sheriff was the perfect representation of the kind of man who was her ideal and completely out of her league. Sexy as hell, built like a professional athlete, kind-hearted, even-tempered, responsible, carried a gun for a living—which was seriously hot—and probably also carried some nice equipment beneath those uniform pants…