Becoming Eve (The Becoming Series Book 1)

by RJ Moore

  Ian’s arm appears out of nowhere when he picks up one of my black Jimmy Choos. “Wow, that is quite the shoe.” He turns it over, examining it from top to bottom. “How do you manage to walk in these?”

  I take the shoe from his grasp and place it beside my bag with the other pair. “Lots of practice. It’s easy really.” He shakes his head, muttering something that sounds like Crazy woman. I roll my eyes at him, continuing my search for shoes I can go hiking in.

  When I finish getting dressed, Ian is already out in the kitchen, packing food in a backpack. Zipping up the bag, he slings it over his shoulder. “Ready beautiful?” I nod my head, following him out the door. He tosses the bag into the truck and walks around to open the door for me.

  “I thought we were going hiking.”

  “We are. It’s just a bit of a drive to get where I want to hike. You’ll see.” He leans in, kissing me sweetly. Pulling back to look in my eyes, he caresses my cheek with his thumb before shutting my door.

  As soon as he gets in the truck, his phone goes off again, signaling he has a message. Angling the phone slightly away from me, he smiles at whatever it is that he sees. This time I just can’t help myself. “Who’s that?” I ask as I look in the mirror while putting on some lip balm.

  “No one. Just work stuff.” He shoots me a wink and I try my hardest to cover my frown. He holds his arm out, beckoning me over to his side. Scooting across the seat, I lean my head on his shoulder, snuggling in close.

  I get lost in the scenery, forgetting about my concern with Ian’s secretiveness as we continue to drive up a mountain. The drive takes longer than I expected before Ian finally parks the truck half an hour later. I look around at the landscape, which is stunning from this high up, and breathe in the fresh air. Ian rounds the truck bed, carrying the backpack, and grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. He brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.

  “Let’s go.” He tugs my hand as he starts forward.

  I look around, becoming confused when I see no path. “Where exactly are we going? I don’t see a trail.”

  He looks back at me while he’s still walking. “You’ll see.” At my worried expression, he smirks. “Don’t worry, Evie. I’ve been up here a lot. We won’t get lost.”

  We trek upward, over and across logs, weaving through the thick trees. Ian steadies me as we have to walk across a long fallen tree over a fast flowing creek. After fifteen minutes, we round a corner and I inhale sharply at the sight before me: a small lake, perfectly hidden, nestled between trees and mountains.

  He leads me out to the end of a rock ledge that acts as a natural dock. Looking down at the crystal clear water, I’m able to see schools of fish swimming through swaying grass.

  I feel him brush up behind me so I lean back into him, resting my head on his chest. I close my eyes as he kisses my head and hugs me tighter, enjoying the peacefulness that surrounds us. There are no sounds of traffic or people, only the birds chirping.

  “Hungry?”

  My eyes open at the sound of his voice. I turn around and loop my arms around his neck, staring up into his eyes. “Mmhmm.” He leans down, covering my mouth with his. What started out slow and sweet turns passionate as he slides his tongue in, caressing my mouth. I moan and pull him closer, kissing him hungrily.

  He pulls away, dropping his head back to look up to the sky. “I have to stop or I’ll forget about feeding you.” His voice sounds gruff, like it is killing him to have to utter those words.

  I laugh as I playfully shove him away. “Well then, feed me already.” Walking over to the bag, I help him spread out the thin blanket that was packed away. Sitting down, I ask, “What’s this place called?”

  Ian pops a grape in his mouth and swallows before answering, “Skein Lake. I’ve been coming here since I was little, usually with Quinn.” Leaning over, he holds a grape to my lips. I open my mouth and he places it on my tongue. I close my lips around his fingers, adding a little nip before letting them go. I smirk at him when his eyes glaze over with lust.

  I lay back, propping myself up with my elbows. Ian takes a handful of grapes and lies next to me with his head resting on my thighs. He continues to tell me all the stories of him and Quinn when they were younger. I almost get up and run when he tells me about a time they had to leave quickly because a bear walked out of the woods.

  Only when the sun starts to set do I realize we’ve been talking for hours. When I stand up, my bladder feels like it’s going to explode. Ian points to a bush, holding out a napkin for me to take.

  “A bush? How is a bush supposed to help me pee?”

  “Sweetheart, there’s no toilet around. You’re going to have to go pee the old-fashioned way.” I don’t think Ian’s grin could get any wider if he tried.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. I’ve never gone outside before. What if I pee on myself?”

  “Then don’t pee on yourself and you’ll be all right.” He laughs as he bends down to start packing everything back in the bag.

  I grumble all the way to the bush, walking behind it and out of Ian’s view. Shuffling my pants down until they’re around my ankles, I squat down and do my business. I have to admit I will never be the kind of girl that will ever get used to peeing outside like this. I will forever be a citified toilet girl, and proud of it.

  With one last check over my shoulder to make sure there are no bears coming, I pull my pants up, hustling back to Ian. I shove his chest, telling him to shut up when I see his smirk.

  “Not a word,” I say as I walk past him down the trail. He holds his hands up in surrender with that sexy as hell but still irritating smirk playing on his face.

  I’m not more than a few steps in when I hear Ian yell, “Wrong way.”

  Damn it!

  The whole ride home is spent with Ian teasing me for being such a girly-girl with no sense of direction. I pretend to be mad, which in turn just makes him tease me more until I laugh along with him.

  The sun has gone down by the time we reach the cabin. Opening the door, the brisk cool air makes me shiver. Since it was so hot today, I didn’t bother bringing a sweater, so I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep warm.

  “Go get a jacket while I start the fire.”

  I stop to give him a questioning glance. “What do we need a fire for when we have heating in the cabin?”

  “Well you can’t make s’mores over the vent.”

  My face instantly lights up. “S’mores! I’ve never tried them before.”

  He looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “Have you been living under a rock your whole life? How have you not had s’mores before?”

  “City girl, remember? I’ve never been camping, or fishing, and certainly never peed outside.”

  He opens his mouth to say something but pauses, instead just shaking his head. “Well I’m glad I can put a little country into the city girl.”

  Rolling my eyes, I head off to search in one of my suitcases for a sweater. The only one I brought however, is my very dainty, and very expensive, Dior sweater. Knowing it will never keep me warm, I snatch Ian’s sweater that was thrown on the rocker in the corner.

  I giggle to myself when I see my reflection in the mirror. His sweater looks like it swallowed me whole. It hangs halfway down my thighs and could probably fit two of me inside. It smells like Ian so I do what any normal girl would do and bring it up to my nose to take a deep sniff. Mmmm. Whatever cologne he wears smells divine. I quickly peek over to the door to make sure Ian didn’t catch me being a weirdo, sniffing his clothes.

  Opening the back door, I spot him adding wood to the fire pit. He catches sight of me and grins. “I like seeing you in my clothes.” He opens his arms for me and I instantly snuggle into him. “Ready for some s’mores?”

  I beam up at him. “Oh yeah.” Following his lead, I put a marshmallow on my stick then hold it over the fire, turning it slowly. Ian sets his down, propping it up so the marshmallow is still roasting. He starts p
utting together graham crackers and chocolate.

  Picking his stick up, he brings up his marshmallow, which is now on fire, and after a moment he blows it out. It resembles a piece of coal, making me cringe. I remove mine from the fire when it turns a light shade of brown and still looks like a marshmallow.

  Ian smashes it in between two crackers. “Eat up.”

  I practically inhale the whole thing, making my face incredibly sticky and getting crumbs all over Ian’s sweater in the process. After the third or fourth s’more—I kind of lose count—I start feeling sick and decide to stop.

  “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.” Ian lifts my hand to inspect it. “You clearly need more practice at eating s’mores. You have marshmallow everywhere.”

  Once I’m inside in the light, I see that I have it not only all over my hands, but in my hair as well. I take a hot shower, washing my hair twice just to be safe. I’m so cold that I want to stay in the shower longer, but I don’t want to use all the hot water. Getting out of the shower, I begin getting ready for the night.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?”

  I spit out my mouthful of toothpaste. “Not tonight. I’m beat. I think I’m going to go to bed early tonight.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll join you in bed.” Kissing me on the head, he walks past me, undressing as he goes. Normally I would be tempted to stay, but I’m dead on my feet.

  Staggering to the bed, I crawl under the covers. I’m almost asleep when I feel Ian’s side of the bed dip as he joins me. He twists my way, hauling my body into his. The baby chooses that moment to start kicking around so I take Ian’s hand, placing it over the little bumps. He squeezes me tighter and that’s how I fall asleep, with the two most important people with me.

  I wake up to another full bladder, having to dash to the toilet. I think that’s one of the worst parts about being pregnant—I have to pee all the time, especially in the mornings.

  I glance at the mirror and have to do a double-take when I see my hair. I fell asleep with it wet last night and now it looks like some woodland creature made it their home. Brushing it out, I groan when it all it does is make it frizzy. Another bun it is. My mom would kill me if she saw my hair in messy buns all the time. I smile, making it a little wilder looking.

  I hear Ian’s phone ding in the bedroom as a text message comes through. I’m not sure what irritates me more—the fact that Ian seems to be hiding something or that I’m even worried at all.

  Shaking off my thoughts, I wander back to the bedroom to find Ian already up and dressed for the day. His red plaid shirt makes his green eyes pop. He hasn’t shaved so his scruffles (as I like to call them) are a little longer. It draws my attention to his full lips, and he must have caught me staring because they lift in a sexy smirk.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Morning,” I grumble. I don’t think I’ll ever be as chipper as he is in the morning.

  “I’m about to go make breakfast. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m always hungry. At this rate, I’m going to look like a beached whale if I keep eating as much as I do.” I cross my arms, acting annoyed.

  Ian chuckles, striding over to me, and he tilts my chin up with his finger. “I’d still love you.” He bends down, kissing me sweetly before winking and walking out of the bedroom.

  I open my suitcase to find some clothes. Grabbing a pair of comfy maternity jeans, I stop mid-pull when it dawns on me what Ian said.

  He’d still love me.

  He loves me! Or was it only something that was said in the moment, simply going along with my joke? I want to march out there and ask, bring it up, say something to make him give me an answer, but I know I won’t. I’m too chicken. I’m not sure if I’m ready to take that next step. I’m afraid if I do, something will go wrong, leaving me with a broken heart.

  Not wanting to ruin my last day at the cabin with my chaotic thoughts, I take a deep breath, moseying into the kitchen. Ian hasn’t noticed I’m behind him so I take my time being a creeper and watch him make breakfast like he’s some kind of professional chef.

  He has three different foods cooking at the same time. Either he is super talented or I just suck at cooking—whatever the case, I’m fascinated watching him move so effortlessly around the kitchen.

  Ian finishes cooking incredibly fast, but I guess that’s to be expected when it’s cooking all at once. He doesn’t mention a thing about the comment he made earlier in the bedroom. I let go it for now, not wanting to know the answer if he meant it or not. He sets a plate full of French toast, eggs, and sausage on the table in front of me. All of it is perfect, not a single piece burnt.

  How does he do it?

  I silently promise myself I’ll start going to more of his mom’s cooking classes. Taking a bite, I almost want to throw my plate at him. It’s not fair that he can produce food so delicious without even trying but I can hardly boil water without something bad happening.

  After we finish eating, Ian takes me fishing out back one more time before we leave. I still don’t have the stomach to hook a worm, but I make up for it when I reel in the biggest fish. Ian ends up catching twice as many as I do, but in my book, this city girl just beat the country boy at fishing.

  Ian’s phone goes off again with a text and after reading it, he says it’s time to go. I’m on the verge of grabbing it to throw it in the water but I refrain—barely.

  I reel in my line with jerky movements, stomping back to the cabin. Ian doesn’t say anything but from the discerning looks he’s sending my way, I can tell he knows I’m pissed. He gathers up the rest of the fishing gear, following a good way behind me.

  We pack our bags in silence, Ian finishing before I do since he only had one. He sits on the bed, watching me without saying a word. Stuffing the rest of my toiletries in, I throw the small bag on the bed next to Ian, abruptly turning to stomp out of the bedroom.

  My wrist is suddenly seized and I’m being pulled into Ian’s hard chest. I stand rigid, about to push him away when I hear him mumble into my hair, “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  This time I do manage to push him far enough away to meet his eyes. “And what am I thinking? Hmm? That you’re hiding something or possibly someone from me. What’s with the secrecy? What aren’t you telling me?” I finally take a breath after bombarding him questions.

  “I’m not hiding anyone from you, Eve. I swear it. It’s like I said, it’s not what you’re thinking.” He brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing my open palm. “Just trust me, okay? I will tell you everything tonight when we get back.” I sigh loudly, making him grin against my hand. “I promise you won’t be mad when you find out.”

  I roll my eyes. “Are you saying it’s another surprise? Seriously?”

  “I can guarantee you’ll love this one.”

  I scowl at him, still a little peeved he just didn’t tell me that to begin with, but also completely relieved. “All right. I’ll trust you.”

  He cups my face, bending down to stare directly into my eyes, and smiles. “Good.” He swoops in, planting a kiss on my lips. “Let’s hit the road.” Walking around me, he smacks my butt, making me jump. Gathering the suitcases off the bed, he walks out with his arms full.

  Making myself busy, I start tidying up the kitchen and living room. Both were fairly clean so it doesn’t take long. I meet Ian at the door, sliding my hand in his as we get in his truck, heading back home.

  I still haven’t talked to him much. As unreasonable as it may be, I’m still feeling angry with him. The silence must be getting to Ian because he places his hand subtly on my leg before unexpectedly tickling the inside of my thigh. I squeal, trying to get away from him, but my seatbelt keeps me in place.

  “Are you done being mad at me?”

  “Yes!” I shriek out, laughing so hard tears are streaming down my face. He finally relents, seeming very proud of himself. I’m huffing and puffing, trying to catch my breat
h.

  “That was mean.”

  He laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Mean but effective. At least you’re talking to me now.”

  I want to hang my head in embarrassment at the way I was acting. I have no idea why I was so mad. It’s as if I have no control over all these intensified emotions. I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was so upset.”

  He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “You’re forgiven.” I snort, pinching his arm, and just like that, my anger is gone.

  Ian’s apparent enthusiasm as we’re driving down my lane is beginning to make me edgy. His back is straight as a board, leaning forward like he’s about to open the best present in the world. His left leg is bouncing up and down slightly and his eyes are alert, almost like he’s expecting to see something ahead.

  I angle my body toward him. “What is going on with you?”

  His face lights up in a grin. “See for yourself.”

  Ian parks the truck as we reach my house, but I haven’t taken my eyes off him. “What are you—”

  Grabbing my chin, he turns my head to the house and I stop midsentence. My jungle of a yard is now perfectly trimmed with flowers lining the edges. It’s not hard to tell it was professionally done. If I had to guess, I would say Quinn worked his magic.

  I see something red in the corner of my eye and look up to see that my door has been replaced with the one I picked out in Ian’s shop. I cover my mouth, which fell open the moment I spotted my lawn, and stifle the sob that wants to burst free.

  Staggering out of the truck, I walk around my yard, completely amazed at the transformation. It almost looks like a brand new house. I sense Ian as he comes up beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “There’s more. Come on.”

  I let him lead me up to the porch, through my awesome new red door, to see a large box wrapped in shiny silver sitting on the floor. I can’t do anything but stand there, staring at it.