CHAPTER THREE
ZOEY SPENT MORE TIME at the hospital than she’d meant to. But her mom was awake, feeling more energetic and seemed to enjoy her company. She moved better now, without as much pain. She still had staples in place from the surgery on her hip, and she tired easily from the pneumonia, but she smiled and it gave Zoey hope.
They’d made plans, talking about how it would be when she moved in with Zoey, and for the first time since her return, her mother’s eyes had glittered with anticipation instead of pain and defeat.
How could she leave in the middle of that? She couldn’t, so she’d stuck around until the very last minute, then had to race to get to the grocery store so she’d be back at her house before Garrett got there.
Funny thing though, as she raced the cart down an aisle, she recognized his sexy butt in worn jeans.
He stood at the meat aisle checking out the steaks.
Zoey snuck up behind him, considered patting that fine tush, but decided against it with so many people around. Her rep was bad enough without adding fuel to the fire.
Instead, she gave him a hip bump. “Hey, stranger.”
Garrett turned with a big smile that, for some reason, faded as he saw they had an audience. “What are you doing here?”
She could ignore the gawkers, if he would. “I was visiting with my mom, so I’m running late. Sorry. Just grabbing some salad and potatoes and heading home.”
He snagged up a package of steaks, commandeered her cart and steered them both back in the direction she’d just come from. “How’s she doing?”
“Much better, thank you. They’ll have her up and walking soon.” She eyed the enormous steaks.
“I meant to hit the butcher’s, but a meeting ran over and they closed a few hours ago. Luckily the grocery stays open all night now.” He hustled her along as he spoke. “You remember how they used to roll the sidewalks up at six?”
“Yes.” She tried to slow him down. “Where are we going?”
“You said you wanted salad.”
“Isn’t it back that—”
“Zoey Hodge.”
Oh, God. That particular screech of outrage carried the same effect as it had in high school. Zoey cringed, knew Garrett saw her cringe, and belatedly realized why he was taking her the long way across the store.
He’d hoped to spare her, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.
Taking two seconds to compose herself, Zoey put on a friendly smile and turned to face the unpleasant past. It wasn’t just Carrie. She had her younger brother—Cody—with her. They both gave her venomous glares.
“Carrie,” Zoey said with calm, polite regard. “How have you been?”
As bitter as ever, Carrie crowded into her space, narrowed her eyes and spat, “How dare you come back here?”
* * *
AS THEY STOOD by the grill, for the tenth time, Garrett asked, “You sure you’re okay?”
His concern was sweet, but it was starting to get laughable. “Do I look broken?” She rolled her eyes, hoping he’d let it go. Yes, it had been ugly. Cody had watched her with sad, narrowed eyes. And Carrie had looked…haunted.
She felt a little sick being the recipient of all that ugly emotion.
But she hoped she’d handled it well.
Certainly, she’d handled it better than Garrett. She could still hear him saying, High school is over, Carrie. Grow up already.
The poor girl had stood there looking mortified, wounded and vindictive all at the same time, until Cody had quietly led her away. Clearly she’d expected Garrett to back her up.
That he hadn’t made Zoey almost feel sorry for her.
His hand clasped her shoulder. “The Donahues are only a small part of the community.”
“I know.” In high school the Donahue children had been part of the elite society. But even before Gus had died and Carrie started openly hating her, Zoey had been an outsider. Her lower-income upbringing and the free-spirited way her mother raised her had ensured she’d always be different. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever belonged.
Freaks, Carrie had told her, belonged nowhere.
Zoey told herself that most people were happy to move beyond a seven-year-old scandal. “A lot of people here have watched me with some uncertainty, but overall they’ve been nice.” She stepped around Garrett to turn the steaks. “And your family, of course, is always awesome.”
“Yeah, they are.” He took the long fork from her and removed his steak from the grill, plopping it on a platter.
Distaste scrunched her face and her stomach curled. “You’re going to eat it that bloody?”
“It’s rare,” he explained.
“It’s still mooing.”
He laughed, took in her aversion and paused. “Does it really bother you?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure I can kiss someone with blood on their teeth, and I really wanted to kiss you again.”
As if someone had used the fork on his sexy butt, he jumped—then froze.
Case in point, Zoey thought, knowing she’d again spoken out in a way few would have. But darn it, she had no skills in tact or subtlety. “You don’t want to kiss me again?” Because she was pretty darned certain he did. And she definitely wanted him to. Shoot, her lips still tingled from that earlier taste.
His gaze went to her mouth, held there, and he groaned.
Now what was that about? Did he regret kissing her? Hands on her hips, she frowned at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Not a thing.” While muttering something about his sister, he put the steak back on the grill.
Unsure if that meant he would kiss her after all, she moved nearer to him. When he faced her, her heart tried to punch its way out of her chest. “Amber eats her steak raw, too?”
“Rare, and no. She’s medium.” He stroked her hair, seemed to catch himself, and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. “What about you?”
“I’m well-done. No pink at all.”
He opened his mouth…then shut it again with a wince of guilt and focused on his steak, using the long fork to move it to the corner of the grill.
“What?” Zoey goosed his midsection, realized there was no give to the solid muscles there and opened her hand on him for a better feel. He felt really good under the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “What were you going to say?”
“Something I shouldn’t.” He caught her hand and held it.
“Okay, now I have to know!”
“It was…” He glanced at her, did a visible struggle with himself and gave up. “Suggestive.”
“Suggestive?”
“Sexual,” he clarified.
“Really?” Better and better. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Tell me.”
With a wicked smile, he gave in. “Something about me liking pink.” When she just stared at him, he elaborated. “Pink. On you.”
She shook her head.
And that made his smile widen into a grin. Bending to her ear, he whispered, “I think of pink, and I visualize all those warm, damp places on your naked body—”
“Garrett!” With a rush of heat—not all of it embarrassment—she stumbled back from him.
Amusement growing by the second, he shrugged. “You insisted.”
When he had her blushing, he seemed more comfortable, like maybe her embarrassment presented a necessary barrier between them. “I don’t understand you.”
“I’m a guy. Easy enough to understand.”
She snorted. Nothing easy about him at all. He teased and flirted, but was most at ease when she didn’t return the favor. Did he flirt with every woman? Maybe she read too much into it. Maybe it made him uncomfortable to know she was equally—or probably more—attracted to him.
He lifted the steak. “Is that cooked enough that I can eat it without repulsing you?”
It wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.
She didn’t have a picnic table yet, or even any outdoor chairs. But it didn’t bother Garrett. Before starting the grill, he’d gone to his truck, got a blanket from behind the seat and spread it in the yard picnic-style beneath one of the tall elm trees.
It was by far the most wonderful, romantic dinner she’d ever had.
By the time they started eating, the sun had sunk low, barely visible behind the hills, splashing the sky in inspiring shades of crimson, tangerine and mauve. The air cooled a little, making it more comfortable even as the nighttime humidity set in.
They ate in a cozy silence, watching as lightning bugs showed up by the dozen. Zoey plucked a blade of dewy grass. “I’d forgotten how damp everything is around a lake. I’m getting wet just sitting here.”
This time when he grinned, Zoey knew why and she threw her napkin at him.
With a low laugh, he tossed it back at her. “Don’t want me to visualize that, huh?”
“No!”
“Too late,” he said softly. Reaching out, he caught her ankle and moved his thumb over her skin. “Are you this soft all over?”
At that brief, simple touch, her heart sped up. “I don’t know.”
Their gazes clashed and held as his fingertips trailed up her calf to the inside of her knee.
Her heart hammered and her toes curled.
Abruptly he released her, pushed his empty plate back and left the blanket to explore the fire pit a few yards away.
Staring after him, Zoey saw the stiff way he held his shoulders. Why the sudden retreat?
“Have you used this yet?”
“No.” Quickly she finished up the last few bites of her own meal and joined him.
It felt very intimate standing beside him in the shadowy sunset. All around them insects chirped as twinkling stars pierced the dark sky.
Zoey didn’t want the evening to end already. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Can we fire it up, do you think?”
He crouched down and examined the stones placed around the pit.
While he did that, she examined the breadth of his shoulders, the long line of his spine, how his thighs strained the denim of his jeans.
No two ways about it, the man was put together fine. But her draw to him was more than that. He’d always been friendly, a natural born leader, and now as a fireman he lived as a hero. He had an easy, comfortable way about him that proved he made up his own mind instead of being swayed, didn’t judge others, but instead offered help when he could.
She thought of how he’d defended her in the grocery store, and it did funny things to her. Nice things.
Turbulent things.
For the longest time he remained in that position, his face turned away from her.
Tension mounted until Zoey doubted she’d be able to convince him to stay. “Garrett?”
He straightened again, and looked down at her for a heart-stopping length of time.
She smiled. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Almost against his will, he touched her cheek, then shook his head. “I’ll gather up some kindling if you want to grab matches and maybe some old papers, too.”
“All right.” But to be sure, she asked, “You’re staying a little longer?”
“If that’s okay.”
“It’s terrific.” Lighthearted now that she knew she hadn’t chased him off, she collected their dishes on her way in and put them in the sink. Her ancient plumbing didn’t include a dishwasher, so she’d take care of washing them later.
While inside, she hugged herself, anticipating more kissing.
Garrett kept her guessing, but she’d learned to live with optimism.
After locating an old magazine and the box of matches she kept with candles on a shelf, she hurried back out.
It pleased her to see that he’d rearranged the blanket and their drinks closer to the pit and had an impressive stack of twigs laid inside it, with some bigger fallen branches waiting to go on next.
“Will this work?”
“That’s perfect.” He tore out several pages, rolled them tightly, and stuck them between the twigs.
Unsure what else to do, Zoey lowered herself to her knees on the blanket.
And hoped he would join her soon.
While he worked, he asked in more detail about her mother’s progress and seemed genuinely pleased that she was doing better. Because his work as a fireman included paramedic training, he had a great understanding of what her mother’s treatment would be.
“I should be able to bring her home by the end of the month. Until then, I still have a lot of stuff to get done inside.”
“Before I leave, I could take a look.”
“At what?”
He laughed. “Your house. That way I’ll have an idea of what we need before we get started next Saturday.”
Sitting back on her heels, Zoey considered him and his repeated offers to help. Was he just being his usual terrific self, or looking for reasons to be around her?
Everyone knew his entire family was made up of do-gooders who took large, active roles in the community, either through their careers, or plain goodwill. Being that he was the same, maybe Garrett saw her as a project.
She hated that idea.
Once the fire started, Garrett added a few of the bigger logs, waiting until they snapped and hissed before sitting beside Zoey. Legs out, arms braced behind him, he sat catty-corner to her, facing the fire.
She faced him, her knees almost touching his thigh.
“That shed is a fire hazard,” he said. “I think we should just knock it down.”
“I peeked inside there one day, saw a snake and haven’t gotten anywhere near it since.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
That made her frown. She put her shoulders back. “It’s my shed, so I’ll help. Even if there are snakes.”
He gave her a fleeting smile. “All right.”
Damn. She glanced at the shed in the dusk and shuddered. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut.
“So, about your mom…” With noticeable caution, he asked, “Think she’ll be up to joining us at the fund-raiser?”
Thrilled at the suggestion, Zoey stared at him. “You’re serious?”
“It’s a big event. Most of the town will be there. I mean, it’s not like it would have been…”
“Private?” The way this was.
“Yeah. There’ll be competitions and dancing and raffles. What do you think?”
The firelight played over his face, putting blue highlights in his hair, emphasizing the cut of his cheekbones, the length of his dark lashes. She sighed. “I think you’re wonderful.”
That must have surprised him. His brows twitched with a puzzled frown. “You don’t mind?”
That he was sweet enough to include her mother? “Of course not.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in and gave him a quick, tight hug of gratitude. “Thank you.”
She started to lean away again, but with his left arm around her, he kept her close. His hand opened on her back, caressing. He nuzzled her temple.
Relaxing, she sank against him.
Near her ear, he murmured, “You smell good, Zoey.”
She loved hearing that particular husky tone from him.
The heat of the fire teased along their skin, combating the humidity. Down by the lake, frogs started a chorus of croaking that echoed over the yard.
When he did nothing else, she asked, “Are you going to kiss me again?”
“Do you want me to?”
She pressed back to see his face. “That’s a joke, right?”
He smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Zoey held her breath…and then held it some more while Garrett appeared to struggle with himself.
Starting to feel insulted, she quirked her mouth. “If you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you.”
“You can’t pressure me.” He held on to her when she would have pushed away. “And what I want isn’t the problem.”
“Then do it.”
His gaze dipped to her mouth.
Exasperated, Zoey huffed, leaned in and smashed her mouth over his. That spurred him into action and he took over, slowly adjusting to make the kiss softer, deeper, nudging her lips to open so he could lick his tongue inside.
One hand tangled in her hair, the other curved low on her back, very near her behind.
Zoey wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. She wouldn’t mind kissing him for, oh, a week? He tasted good, smelled good and felt even better.
Easing back, he kissed the corner of her lips, her jaw, up to her ear.
Zoey rasped, “See. No problems.”
She felt his smile against her jaw. “You’ll give me a tour of the house?”
Unsure of his motives, she measured her words. “I’d love to show you around.” They’d be inside…near her bed.
Was she ready to go there so soon?
Once her mom came home, the opportunity might be lost, so…yes. She was ready, especially after that heated kiss. “Just keep in mind that relocating and buying the house and starting up the new business is straining my savings, so I’m doing things as—” cheaply “—affordably as I can.”
“Not a problem. Labor is usually the biggest cost.” He nipped her bottom lip. “But I’m affordable.”
Would she need to pay him? And how would that work?
Another quick, firm kiss, and he sat back from her. “Stop fretting, Zoey. We’ll work it out.”
“I almost never fret. It’s pointless.” And thinking that, she dropped to her back on the blanket to take in the inky sky glittering with stars. “Look at that.”
Garrett said, “I’m looking.”
“It’s such a clear night.” When he didn’t comment, she asked, “You don’t enjoy the stars?”
She sensed more than heard him moving closer before he said, “I do.”
“I swear they look different here than they did in the city.”
“That’s where you lived?”
“When I left here, I wasn’t sure where to go. I just wanted…out. But I ended up in Lexington, and it suited me. I had a cute little apartment, a terrific job as an assistant with a pet groomer, plenty of friends…”
“That you didn’t mind leaving?”
What could she tell him? Lexington was great—but it wasn’t Buckhorn. “As Dorothy would tell you, there’s no place like home.” And she’d missed home so very much.
He came down on his elbow beside her, near enough that she felt the warmth of his body and could breathe in his scent. “You should never have gone away.”
Turning her head, she tried to see his thoughts, but the flames of the fire danced, distorting his features, making him look almost…apologetic.
But that didn’t make any sense. He’d had nothing to do with her situation back then.
Quietly, she said, “You know I had to.”
“I know the rumors. I heard the gossip. You broke things off with Gus Donahue, and he didn’t take it well.”
Her short, harsh laugh disturbed the quiet of the peaceful night, and she quickly apologized. “Sorry. It’s not funny—but what an understatement. His reaction was so over-the-top, I didn’t know what to do.”
His gaze drifted over her, her face, then her body beneath the moonlight. “Would you tell me what actually happened?”
There had been few opportunities to talk about that wretched event. She’d confided only in her mother because there’d been no one else interested in the truth. “You really want to know?”
“If you don’t mind telling me.”
As if the words had been bubbling near the surface, just waiting for permission, she blurted them out. “Gus wanted to have sex, I didn’t, and he flew off the handle.”
Garrett didn’t seem surprised, and he didn’t doubt her. “I can understand him trying. You were hot even back then.”
She blinked at him. Garrett had thought her hot?
“But even a horny kid has to understand that no is no.”
“He said I’d led him on and that the whole town would call him a fool if he couldn’t score with someone like me.”
Garrett was silent—but he touched her, first her wrist, the back of her hand. He traced her fingers, then laced his in hers, palm to palm. His big, strong hand engulfed hers, emphasizing the differences in their sizes and giving her an added thrill. “I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“How unfairly you were judged when no one had the whole story.”
She shrugged it off; she’d long since grown used to the biased assessment of what had happened that day. Even so, it felt nice, really nice, having someone to hold on to. “It wasn’t the first time that he’d gotten enraged over something ridiculous. I’d had enough of it, and I told him we were through.”
“That’s when he left?”
Remembering, she gave a slow shake of her head. “First he broke a few things. One of our lamps, my mom’s music box.” Her chest hurt with the memory. “It had been her grandmother’s, and it sat on a shelf in our living room.”
Garrett lifted her hand, kissed her knuckles.
That small kiss held encouragement and understanding, spurring her to tell it all. “He…he shouted and cursed, called me some vile names and punched the wall right by my head. He hit it hard enough to leave a big hole there, and his knuckles were bleeding.”
Garrett went still.
“It terrified me, and that made me furious.” To explain that, she said, “I always lose my temper when I’m scared.”
“That’s better than giving in to the fear.”
“I guess.” A damp breeze drifted over her skin; here, now, with Garrett, she felt exposed and vulnerable, but not in a bad way…which made no sense at all. “I pushed him away and told him to get out and never come back. It was like I flipped a switch. He went from furious to sorry and pleading.” Her breath caught. “He begged me to forgive him.”
“But you made him leave anyway.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her knuckles again. “That was the smart thing to do, Zoey.”
“It didn’t feel smart after he died.” Her stomach cramped, remembering the devastating news, the guilt that had all but smothered her.
“What happened after he left wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
Seeking a measure of calm, she pulled away from his hold, folded both hands behind her head and focused on that big, star-studded sky. It was easier than looking at Garrett. “That’s not how everyone else saw it. I went from being a nobody to being public enemy number one.”
“That’s not true.”
“Close enough.” Had he scooted nearer somehow? He seemed to be looming over her. She kind of liked it. “It wasn’t easy coming back here.”
“You’re strong and brave.”
Laughing, she slanted him a look. Yep, definitely closer. “You like to see the best in people.” The moonlight and firelight competed to emphasize all the most appealing angles of his face, the width of his shoulders, the bulge of his biceps. She sighed. “If it weren’t for my mom, I wouldn’t have come back. Ever.”
“I’m sorry she’s hurt,” he whispered. “But damn, Zoey, I’m glad you’re here.”
* * *
GARRETT HAD DELIBERATELY chosen to eat outside with her, thinking it would be safer than being indoors…near a bed. But seeing Zoey like this, relaxed, sharing, with the stars shining above her and her clear enjoyment of nature, well, it was worse than having a bed nearby.
It was heated foreplay, and he felt himself reacting.
Filtered through the leaves of tall trees, the moonlight played with her body, slipping over the swells of her breasts, the length of her thighs.
It’d be so easy to lean down to her, to kiss her…and more. To let his hands explore all that warm, dewy skin.
Even while he fought with himself, his breathing deepened and his muscles tensed. The shorts she wore teased him, exposing so much and concealing so little. And that V-necked T-shirt, dipping low to her cleavage. Every so often when she moved, he saw the edge of lace on her bra and it drove him nuts.
Each time he saw her, he discovered something new about her, something nice, or enticing, or…lust-inspiring. Without seeming to try, she reeled him in with open smiles, silly conversation and her big heart.
In many ways she was such a dichotomy—strong and accepting, ready to tackle the past and future alike. But so soft, too, her hair, her skin, that peek of lace…and her attitude toward others.
He didn’t want to be a sap, but her emotional generosity really got to him. He’d never known a woman like her—sympathetic enough to help care for a sick kid, understanding in the face of insults.
Even Carrie, with her nasty reception and hateful barbs, hadn’t been able to dent Zoey’s natural compassion. He’d been furious with Carrie and Cody, but Zoey had been calm and thoughtful.
“You’re so quiet,” she whispered. “What are you thinking?”
Her light brown hair, baby fine, fanned out around her head, drawing his fingers. “I’m having a hard time not kissing you.”
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze to his mouth. “You can, you know.”
Encouragement was the last thing he needed, because he knew the truth even if she didn’t. “Kissing will lead to more.”
“Like…?”
Laughing a little roughly, he sat up and turned away from temptation. Remember what Amber said, remember what—“Like how I’d love to get you out of those shorts.” The words left his mouth and he wanted to kick his own butt. From the moment she’d come downstairs from his shower when she’d arrived in town, every instinct he had as a man told him to go after her.
To get her.
He wasn’t used to fighting himself. Before Zoey, it had never been an issue.
Zoey said nothing, and the silence condemned him. She hadn’t been back to town that long, she had a full plate, and here he was pressing her for sex.
As soon as he got himself together he’d apologize.
Just the fact that he had to collect himself proved his reaction to Zoey was different. As a firefighter, he’d learned to stay calm no matter what.
As a man, that personality trait had come naturally in all relationships.
Now he felt far from calm. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this physically and emotionally drawn in.
Yet his meddling sister had to go and spell out a dozen legitimate reasons why Zoey should be off-limits for casual sex.
He heard the rustling of her movements as she came to her feet, likely to call an end to the evening—not that he could blame her.
With the apology forthcoming, he turned—
And Zoey unzipped her shorts.
He froze, every muscle clenched tight as he waited, watching her, anticipation burning hot.
She pushed the shorts over her hips and let them fall to her ankles.
God, she was gorgeous.
She stood there with her T-shirt rumpled, her hair messy, wearing that same sexy pair of panties that she’d dropped in his driveway.
“Well?” Twisting her fingers together, she whispered, “Say something already.”
He had no words. Scooping an arm around her behind, he tugged her closer and pressed his face against her, kissing the bared flesh of her belly between the bottom of her T-shirt and those minuscule panties that barely covered her.
She felt smooth and soft, smelled indescribably good. He opened his mouth against her skin for a gentle love bite, then soothed the spot with his tongue while tasting her warm skin. He wanted to devour her. Every inch of her.
Right here in the open yard.
Moaning out a soft sound of acceptance, as if that plan worked for her, Zoey sank her fingers into his hair and held him closer.
In that moment, Garrett had no doubts; right or wrong, he’d already reached the point of no return.