Chapter 14
I want to date you.
Biting her thumbnail, Zoe sat on her bed, freshly showered, and stared at her phone. Drake had texted five minutes before, and she was still trying to formulate a response. Tonight, once again, he’d proven their first kiss hadn’t been a fluke. Or their second or third. She’d meant to put a stop to what was happening between them or, at the very least, be honest with him about expectations.
But damn. He made her weak. So, so very weak.
Screw it. She thumbed her response and hit Send. I don’t date.
The icon indicated he was typing. She looked at Cotton next to her on the bed. “He’s going to talk me into it. Just watch. You need to help me be strong.”
Cotton rolled over and purred in response.
Ever? Why not? I’ve seen you out with other men.
She smacked a hand to her forehead. Out, yes. Date, no. Dating leads to relationships. I don’t have time. It was a cop-out answer, but rooted in truth.
What’s wrong with a relationship? If it’s right, you can make time.
Damn him. No guy, no matter the circumstances, would be right. Five years ago, if there had been no Heather, this would be a non-issue. But things were different now. Relationships meant marriage conversations and wedding bells and baby showers. Things she couldn’t have. Especially with Drake.
Her lack of response must’ve prompted him to keep trying. Go out with me.
Pressing her lips together, she rubbed the knot in her chest. This was exactly what she didn’t want. She’d rather gnaw off her right arm than hurt him. Please, don’t push this. Let’s just keep things where they are for now. Another cop-out. She sucked.
Talk to me, Zoe. I want a reason.
She screeched in frustration. “Men are stupid, barbaric creatures.” Cotton looked at her through slanted, unamused eyes. “Except you, dear cat.”
Zoe sighed. None of her motives would be something Drake would understand. I can’t.
Since when does Zoe Hornsby have that word in her vocabulary?
“Oh, he’s good.” Nice try.
The typing icon whirled. I. Want. To. Date. You.
He was killing her. Look, I’m serious. I care about you and you’re the last person I want to hurt. But I can’t. I’m just the good time. Take it or leave it. That had been her justification in allowing things to go as far as they had. That she’d make it clear to him she was the good-enough-for-now girl. The rebound.
She sat for ten minutes, but no more texts came. She’d either royally pissed him off or she’d done the inexcusable and hurt him. Sick to her stomach, she rubbed her forehead and fought tears. She thought she could help him move on and get a little slice of Heaven for herself via memories to take with her when it ended. But maybe she should just avoid all contact with him until he found a woman who could give him what she couldn’t.
God, fate just loved to heckle in her face. Tease her with the guy she’d always wanted and then issue a time limit. Taunt her with old dreams and wishes, then remind her it couldn’t be forever. Giving in to the pain, she flopped on the bed. Chest tight, she cried in her pillow like she’d done at seventeen. Pathetic.
As she was about to turn out the light, a pounding came from the front door. She and her cat exchanged a look, then Zoe rose, wiped her eyes, and padded down the hall. Standing in her dark living room, she eyed the door. Redwood Ridge didn’t have much crime, but she wasn’t about to play games with the odds.
More pounding rattled the door. “I have a key, Zoe, and I’ll use it. Let me in.”
Drake. Holy hell. What now?
After a silent few moments, she backed up, deciding to ignore him. Maybe he’d think she was asleep and he’d go home.
“I can hear you breathing.”
Or not. She crossed her arms. “Go away, Drake.”
“Have it your way, honey.”
A jingle of the lock and her door swung open. Six feet of pissed off male strode in and kicked the door shut. The shadows in the dark room made him even more ominous as he ate the distance between them. He backed her to the wall and flattened both hands on either side of her head. Dipping his face close to hers, he seethed. Like a caged beast at his limit. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Alpha Drake out in the open.
“The good time. The good time?” he said so calmly she shivered. “Explain that absurd term. Now.”
Both turned on and a little frightened, she stared at him. His chocolate eyes drilled her into place and demanded answers. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
His chin dipped, gaze still on hers. Long lashes lowered in a blink and then he was right back to dissecting her expression. “Why would you demean yourself with that phrase? Worse, why would you assume that’s all I want from you?”
“Because I know you don’t want only fun.”
A sudden inhale, and he straightened. “You’ve been crying.”
“Have not.”
“Your eyes are red and your lashes are still wet.”
“Allergies.” She crossed her arms.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. “We’ve never lied to each other. In fact, we’ve been nothing but brutally honest. You know each and every dark place and horrible thought that’s ever been in my head. You’ve seen me at my absolute worst.” He set his hands on his hips, shoulders sagging. “What is going on? Is this about Heather? Your mom?”
“You know what? Yes.” Shoving off the wall, she wove around him. “You watched the love of your life die right in front of you after months of slowly fading. Mama is all I have and she’s only going to get worse. After everything you’ve been through, you don’t need my baggage. You need to find a woman who can offer the happiness you deserve.”
Brows pinched, jaw slack, he shook his head. “First, I didn’t just lose my wife. You lost your best friend. And I’d do it all over again because I loved her that much. So would you. It sucked and it was painful, but it was worth it to have her as long as we did.” He stepped closer. “Second, your mom is not all you have. She gave up a lot for you and you’re doing the same for her, but you are not alone. She is not baggage, mine or yours.” He closed the remaining distance and towered over her. His jaw ticked. “And third, I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
Mary Mother, she couldn’t do this. As if she hadn’t learned her lesson, she had to go and fall for him again. The last remaining true noble gentleman in existence. And just like the first go around, she couldn’t have him this time either.
Frustrated, she spun and paced the living room, keeping the couch between them. She didn’t know how to get through to him other than telling the absolute truth. The problem with doing that was Drake would get around it. He’d sacrifice his own needs and desires if he fell for her or thought there was a relationship to build upon. She crossed her arms, facing the window to the quiet street.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know where this is going between us, Zoe, if anywhere at all. But you’re cutting us off at the pass before we have the chance to find out.”
Frozen, she stared off into space. “There’s no future.” Not for her, not for Mama, and not for Drake if he didn’t accept what she was saying.
“You’re scared.” The shocked tone of his voice had her jerking her gaze to him. “That’s it right there. You’re scared.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” Which wasn’t true. She was afraid of everything.
“I used to think that, too. What happened to you?” He ran his fingers across his mouth, down his jaw to his throat. “You used to be a romantic, Zoe. Not the sunshine and rainbows kind like Gabby. The true literary kind who believed in destiny and soul mates. It was apparent in every painting you created. It still is in the way you give a piece of yourself to those you love. What happened to kill that…that hope inside you?”
A dull ache behind her eyes began to grow. The one in her chest she’d had for five years was expanding. “Life happened. I woke up and realized happily ever afters were bullshit created by Hollywood and greeting card companies.”
“You don’t seriously believe that.”
He was right. She didn’t. Though it was true on her account, she knew love wasn’t bullshit for other people. Her every action all her life had been born from love. Just like the one she was attempting to do now, if he’d only let her.
“Tell that to Cade and Avery, to Flynn and Gabby.” He paused, and she knew what he was going to say next. She tried to brace herself and failed. “Go to Heather’s grave and tell her that, or look me in the eye and say it to me.”
Closing her eyes, she held her breath and wished he’d just go away. She should’ve had the courage to lie to him back when he’d asked if he was alone in his attraction.
“Look at me.” He sighed. “Zoe, honey, look at me.”
Turning, she complied. She had two weaknesses, and numero uno was smack in front of her. For more reasons than she could count, she wished Mama was in her right mind so she could talk it out with her. Back then, Zoe had been biding her time to tell her mom about her feelings for Drake. She’d wanted her mom’s approval before going forward. But, like most things, she’d believed she could do it tomorrow. But tomorrow came and went, he’d wound up with someone else, and there were no more tomorrows left.
His understanding, all too-caring gaze swept over her face. “Be honest with me about this one important thing. Before the hope died, what did you want most in a relationship? What qualities or little nuances were you seeking from a partner?”
Having no idea where he was going with this, she rubbed her forehead. For the sake of honesty, she’d judged all couples on Drake and Heather. Habit, she supposed. To give him a true answer, she’d have to combine what she’d witnessed from them with longing of her own. What was the harm in telling him? It would change nothing.
She bit her lip. “I guess it didn’t matter what he looked like, but handsome wouldn’t hurt. He’d have to have a deep appreciation for sarcasm and a good sense of humor. Family would have to be everything to him. More organized than me, but not anal.” She thought about her dreams before life stole them, and shrugged. “Marriage and kids. No picket fence. Instead, sloppy picnics and snowball fights and enough passion to sustain an energy crisis.”
He was concentrating so hard she nearly fumbled. Expression tight, he nodded. “Go on.”
With a sigh, she raised her hand and let it drop. “He wouldn’t mind cuddling on the couch when I’m sick or afraid to hold my hand in public. Having a guy who knows I’m the only thing in his orbit, like waking up and his first thought is to reach for me or kiss me good morning. He’d appreciate my need to be alone when I paint, but he’d quietly watch me from a doorway because he likes looking at me.”
Hell, it had been so long since she’d thought about these things that melancholy settled in her bones. “He’d never forget my birthday and would know I’d want a gift not store-bought. Kiss my forehead to diffuse my temper or laugh when I’m on a tirade.” She worried her brows, a single longing deep in her subconscious floating to mind. “He’d…write me poetry.”
Drake stilled, his gaze penetrating. “Poetry?”
“Don’t look at me like that. Most of the greatest poets were men. Yeats, Browning, Hemingway.” She lifted her brows. “You wrote poetry for Heather.”
His jaw worked a grind. “She told you that?”
“She told me everything. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not. It’s just such a…private thing.” He rubbed his neck. “I haven’t done it in years. Wrote a few after she died. I don’t even think my brothers know I used to dabble.”
Facing the window once more, she swallowed. “They were good, your poems.” She could feel his gaze on her, but she was too tired and too gutted to look at him.
He cleared his throat. “The guys you’ve been with, did any of them do those things on your list?” When she didn’t answer, he rubbed his chest. “None of them? Not one item?”
Nope. Why bother when she wasn’t the girl they’d bring home to meet the family or the one who’d last longer than fling status? It would’ve been nice, though, if just once she’d had her hand held in public. So simple an act.
Whatever. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine.” He nodded. “That’s what you’ll get.”
“What?” She whirled on him, but he was heading toward the door.
He paused with his hand on the knob. “I’ll give you what they didn’t.”
Clenching her fists, she huffed. “Drake, you’re not listening to me.”
“You got that right.” His brows rose in challenge with a determined set to his jaw. “Here’s the thing, Zoe. As far back as my memory goes, you’re there. Making me madder than a hatter or laughing my fool ass off, you’re there. Picking up my pieces or leaving me to stew, you’re there. At some point, I’ll need to separate our friendship from this chemistry, but understand me.”
He strode toward her and held her chin, tipping it up so she would look at him. “When we’re together, when I’m kissing you, touching you… I’m not feeling friendly. And we are going to explore that because you feel it, too. Ergo, I don’t give a good goddamn what your excuses are or how hard you push. We owe it to ourselves to see if this is heading anywhere.”
Bringing his lips within millimeters of hers, he narrowed his eyes. Tension and desire rolled off him in waves. “Think about this, while we’re at it. You’re the first woman in four years who’s reminded me I’m a man, that I have needs. Remember that little fact when you want to spout about what I deserve.”
Before she could blink, he crushed his mouth to hers in a searing, soul-shredding kiss that left her staggering when he pulled away. Once she got her bearings, he was at the door again.
“Have a good night, honey.”