Becoming Eve (The Becoming Series Book 1)

  Table of Contents

  Becoming Eve

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Read on…

  Acknowledgements

  Becoming Eve

  Copyright © 2016 by RJ Moore

  First Print Edition: November 2016

  Cover Design and Interior Design: Cover Me Darling

  Formatting: Athena Interior Book Design

  Editor: C. Marie Editing

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, individuals, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

  Well, this is it, my new home. This old, rundown place is all mine. A shutter hangs by one hinge, swinging in the light breeze. The blue paint looks faded and is chipping, and the front door just needs to be replaced. I can see there might have been a lawn at some point, but now it looks as if it’s a mini jungle with how long the grass is. There are no flowerbeds except for one dried up plant in a pot, sitting on the porch. Now the porch, I love. It’s in need of a serious stain job, but it wraps all the way around on the side of the house.

  “Well it is definitely a fixer upper, but it has a lot of potential, and at least the roof was replaced recently. The older couple that lived here is now in a nursing home and wanted to sell everything that belonged to them with the house since they don’t have any children.” The realtor looks from the house to me. “Are you sure you don’t want to go inside to look around first, Mrs. McDaniel?”

  “It’s just Miss; I’m not married,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the house before me while I speak. “And no, I think I’m ready to go back and sign the papers.” The only response I get from her is a quiet “Okay”. I don’t know if she is judging me or just feels sorry for me—I don’t care either way. This is my fresh start! My three-bedroom, one-bathroom house with its amazing deck on five acres in the middle of the woods is my new beginning—though I’m not gonna lie, the middle of the woods part makes me a little nervous.

  I’m a city girl, always have been. I never got dirty, never planted anything in my life, though I did always like to watch the gardener tend to the flowers. Animals were a strict no-no growing up because they were considered too unsanitary. I came from money, always getting what I wanted. I should have been happy, having everything and anything with the swipe of a card or a phone call to my parents, but the few friends I grew up with were petty and fake. They were the type you never let your guard down with. I’m not sure if they made me a shallow person or if I just became that way to fit in. College was no different. If anything, it was almost worse. Aside from going to some classes, my life revolved around shopping and going to crazy parties every weekend. Then one night my life changed.

  I lay my hands on my lower stomach, taking a deep breath. I probably have other options, but deep down, this is what I feel is right. I’m going to be strong, going to learn to live and do things on my own. It’s going to be tough, but I can do it. I just need to keep telling myself that.

  After heading back to the realtor’s office, I finish signing everything. I’m now officially a homeowner! I’m sure if my parents knew I just bought a house with my trust fund money, they would have a stroke. I walk out of the office to get into my black four-door 1979 Ford F-250. I got my truck by trading in the Corvette my parents bought me for my high school graduation and kept the remaining money—which was quite a bit.

  Driving down the road into the small town, I make my way to the bookstore. I am definitely going to need help with my new life, and want to pick up a few books to get started. Walking into the store, I immediately fall in love. It has a log cabin theme, and there is a coffee place inside to the left with chairs where you can sit down and read while drinking your coffee. Breathing in the aroma, I already feel like I am starting to relax. I think I will come to love this little town in Washington.

  I walk up to the older lady behind the counter. She has dark grey hair that is cut shorter, reminding me of Mrs. Claus. She looks up to me, taking off her glasses. They have a chain attached to them so they hang around her neck.

  “Oh you must be new in town.” Even her voice reminds me of Mrs. Claus. “How can I help you, honey?”

  “Um, I need help finding some books about gardening and cooking.” I look up to the ceiling thinking of all the things I need, making a list in my head. I realize I have been saying my list out loud and stop mumbling when I hear a chuckle.

  “Okay sweetie, let’s slow down and just find one book at a time.” She stands up and I realize she is much taller than I expected. She has to stand at least five inches taller than me, even wearing my four-inch heels—though seeing as how I am only 5’2, I guess most people do tower over me. I follow her down the first aisle of books as she inspects each one.

  “Now what kind of gardening are you going to be doing? Are you talking about flowers or vegetables?”

  “Vegetables, but I think I might want one on flowers too.” She turns around and starts searching through the books again. I wonder to myself if I stick out that much for her to know I am new in town, or if it really is such a small town that everyone knows each other.

  “How did you know I was new in town?”

  She turns toward me, looking at my clothes. I’m not used to people looking at me without that snooty, judgmental look. It is kind of refreshing, but also a little unnerving.

  “Well I haven’t seen you around before, and being such a small town, I know most people, or have at least seen them around. It’s your clothes actually. Being that it’s January, most people are bundled up in more than a skirt and a sweater with heels.”

  My cheeks instantly turn pink as I glance down at my polka dotted skirt that matches perfectly with my favorite red Louboutin heels. I haven’t had the chance to buy new clothes yet. I hardly ever wear pants and almost always have heels on. Come to think of it, I only have one pair of pants. I guess that’s going to have to change now that I’m in the country, along with my footwear—my heels will sink in the mud. I continue on down the aisles while she gathers up most of the books I need.

  I want to keep a healthy lifestyle and at home, I used lotion made from goat’s milk. I fell in love with it and did some research on it; turns out goat milk is very healthy. My curiosity getting the best of me, I ask if she has a book on goats so I can look into it a little more.

  “Hmm, well, I don’t think I have a book just on goats, but I’m sure I can order one in. We have two computers in the back that have internet that you’re welcome to use.” After ordering a few m
ore books online, I follow Helen, which I learn is her name, up to the counter to pay for all my books. I tell her I also need some cookbooks because I have no idea how to make a meal, so she tells me the best book to order. “Should I call you when it comes in? I could also write down a few of my favorite recipes for you. I’ll give them to you when you come back.”

  I nod my head, thanking Helen before I walk back to my truck. I really like Helen and know I will probably be back more than once after getting my books for advice. I am pretty much clueless about everything.

  As I am driving down the road, I see a sign advertising firewood for sale. Remembering that my house is heated by a fireplace, I turn left down a lane lined with trees. I drive for a few more seconds before a beautiful white, two-story farm-style house comes into view. I slow down to almost an idle as I’m gawking at the house when I feel a thump and my truck instantly stops.

  Oh crap! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! With wide eyes, I scramble out of my seat, going to the front of the truck. I hit the front gate! I’m in the middle of a mini panic attack when I hear a deep voice.

  “Are you okay ma’am?”

  I turn around and my mouth falls open. Holy moly! This man is divine! His dark blond hair is cut very short and he has the most beautiful green eyes. His face is sporting what looks like a few days of dark stubble. He has to be about six foot, perfect for running and jumping onto him while wrapping my legs around that fantastic-looking body. Whoa, calm down hormones! I quickly close my mouth and just to make sure I’m not drooling, I wipe my lips. Thank goodness, no drool!

  “I-I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and then this happened. I-I’ll pay for any damages…” I’m stumbling all over my words and when I glance back up at him, his lips are twitching as if he’s trying hard to fight off a smile.

  “That’s all right. You were barely moving; I doubt you even scratched anything.” His eyes roam over my clothes and his eyebrows slowly rise. “Can I help you with something? Are you lost?”

  Geez, do I stick out that much?

  “Um, no, I’m not lost. I’m, um, actually here because I saw a sign back on the road that says firewood for sale.” I take a quick glance to the front of my truck where it’s still touching the gate. “I swear I didn’t drive here just to hit your fence.”

  At the sound of his deep chuckle, I again have to wipe my mouth to make sure no drool is running down my chin.

  “Okay, how much do you want? Are you going to pick it up or is it going to be for delivery?” He keeps his green eyes firmly locked on mine and I lose myself in his. I must have been staring for a while because he suddenly clears his throat, cocking his eyebrow. I blink to snap myself out of it.

  “Oh, um, I guess just fill up the back of my truck. That should be enough to get me through the winter, right?” I have no idea about any of this stuff. I don’t even know how to start a fire. I really should have thought through my plan a little better before moving out here on my own, seeing as how I’m completely clueless about everything. Well, too late now, I’m committed!

  The hunky god in front of me lets out a little laugh.

  “No, if you’re looking for enough wood to get you through the winter, you’ll need more like four cords of wood.” Great. What the hell is a cord? “As long as you live in the same town, we deliver for free. I’ll have to look at my schedule, but I believe I’m free to deliver in two days.”

  “That’s great since I just moved here.” I give him my address. “I’ll see you in two days!” Wow, I really need to tone it down. I’ve been so busy ogling him and running into his gate that I didn’t even introduce myself.

  Way to go!

  “Um, I’m Eve by the way.” I stretch my hand out toward him. His big hand grips mine in probably the firmest handshake of the century.

  “Ian Masters. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  After going to the grocery store and buying everything I could possibly think of, I make my way back to my new house. My driveway reminds me of Ian’s with the tall trees lining both sides, and just thinking of Ian makes me blush—not only because I hit his gate, but because of the way I stammered all over my words. I felt like I was in high school all over again, talking to my longtime crush for the first time. Well I guess it won’t matter anyway; if I were to tell him my whole story, he’d probably go running the other way.

  Making my way up to the porch, I unlock the front door. It doesn’t budge at first, until I give one hard push that nearly makes me trip when it suddenly springs open. I look around at the already furnished house. I am going to need to buy some of my own things. I’m not entirely comfortable with living in a house where nothing belongs to me, but I’m guessing that buying every single piece of furniture for a house would be quite expensive, so I am grateful that everything is here until I’m able to buy what I need.

  I have to make a couple trips from the pickup to the kitchen to bring in all the groceries. By the time I finish, I am completely exhausted. I put away all the cold food before going straight for the floral patterned couch and lying down. Now I’m not so sure I want to get rid of it. It is the most comfortable couch I’ve ever touched. Within seconds, I am fast asleep.

  “Come on Evelyn, you have to do it! At least once—you’re in college, live a little!” I look at Victoria, wanting to say no, but I know that would only make me look bad. Life with these people is a game; you have to play by their rules or lose. “Just one time.” Victoria looks at me with a grin as she sits down on the bed beside me. “But I bet once you do it one time, you’ll go back for more. Those guys are total hotties.”

  “Victoria, I don’t think I can. One-night stands are just not me. I have to really know the guy before I jump into bed.” I know she isn’t going to give up and drop the subject based on the look on her face.

  “Just do it Evelyn. Get drunk, find a hot guy, dance, and then take him upstairs. It’s part of being in college. You’ll see.”

  The tiny dorm room fades away as I suddenly appear in a large room, full of people all drinking and dancing. I feel arms wrap around my waist from behind me and I turn around to find an extremely attractive guy dancing with me. At least I think he’s attractive…his face is so blurry, but somehow I know he is. He takes my hand in his, leading me through the throngs of people toward a set of stairs. The drink I am holding in my free hand is sloshing and spilling out as I bump into people. I set it down on a table next to the staircase. As we walk up the stairs, I look behind me to see Victoria watching me with a smug smile.

  I open my eyes to the sun starting to rise. I have a splitting headache. The room is spinning, forcing me to close my eyes and steady my breathing so I don’t vomit. I try to think of where I am, what happened last night, but I can only remember bits and pieces. I hear a loud snore behind me and my eyes shoot open. I turn my head to see a naked guy sleeping next to me. Holy shit! I slept with someone I don’t even know. I have no idea what his face looks like. His back is to me but he has shaggy, light brown hair that reminds me of Edward from Twilight. As quickly and quietly as I can, I get dressed and run out of the room.

  I hate that dream. I sit up, glancing at the clock on the wall. It is nine o’clock in the morning. I can’t believe I slept all night on the couch. As I stand up, a sudden wave of nausea comes over me. I race to the bathroom right in time. Ugh, this sucks! Once I’m finished praying to the porcelain god, I brush my teeth, heading for the shower. The hot water feels wonderful and I can feel the stress of the last couple days melting away. I mentally go over everything I need to do, or at least get started on. I think not being able to hire people to do the jobs I need done is going to be the hardest, but this is what I want—to be a whole new Eve. I want to make me happy instead of worrying about impressing everyone else.

  After drying off and getting dressed—this time in my only pair of jeans and no heels—I make my way to the kitchen. The yellow walls almost make my eyes squint with how bright they are. This color is going to have to go. My fir
st mission of the day is breakfast. I seem to be craving pancakes lately so I dig out the pancake mix from one of the grocery bags that is still sitting on the counter. Finding the blue bag of mix, I read the directions on the back. Sounds easy enough: just add water, stir together, and then pour in the pan. I can do that.

  I start looking through all the cabinets in search of a medium-sized bowl that looks like the picture on the back of the directions. I finally find a red porcelain bowl and put it on the counter. After I track down a measuring cup, spatula, and spoon, I start putting everything together exactly how I read. No matter how much I stir though, I can’t seem to get rid of all these stupid lumps.

  “Whatever, I’m starving.” I turn the burner on and pour some on the pan. “Whoa! This is going to be one big pancake!” The directions say to wait until it starts bubbling, but it smells as if it is burning. I try to flip it over, but as soon as I lift the half-cooked pancake off the pan, it slips off the spatula and lands gooey side down on the floor.

  “Shit!” I quickly clean everything up and end up eating a bowl of cereal. I don’t know how I am going to do this. I can’t even make a freaking pancake. I try so hard not to cry, but the tears fall down my cheeks anyway. It takes me a few minutes to calm down. I look around the kitchen and figure I should at least get the house cleaned up.

  By the time everything is put away and most of the house is clean, I have a better idea of everything that needs to be worked on. Even though I still don’t know how I’m going to do half the things that need to be done, there is something deep down inside me that is so excited to make this place mine.

  I go into the bedroom, staring at the bed. I just can’t make myself sleep in someone else’s bed. I guess that’s one more thing I need to buy as soon as possible.

  Pulling my hair into a messy bun and putting on my nice knee-high boots with the heaviest sweater I have, I go outside. I want to be able to grow most of all my own vegetables. Growing up, we had a greenhouse that grew an assortment of vegetables that the gardener took care of. We always had to look our best, and eating healthy was part of looking young and beautiful.