"So, what do you want me to say? Great. We'll pick things up where we left off before Wesley's accident."
"Yes—no. I know we need to talk about what happened. I need to explain. Please sit." She gestured toward the kitchen table.
He looked at where she pointed then back at her. "It won't change anything." He didn't budge but continued to stare at her with that cutting regard.
Pain sliced through her like a machete through thick vines. "I'm not too proud that I won't beg."
"Beg?"
"You told me at the hospital that I was too proud. I may have been then. I'm not now. I learn from my mistakes, and this is too important to me."
He crossed the kitchen in two strides and sat at the table, his expression totally closed off to her. For a few seconds Tess stood immobile, listening to the silence of the house. Thankfully everyone was gone this afternoon, and she wouldn't have an audience while she pleaded her case with Zachariah.
"Would you like some coffee? A cinnamon roll?" she asked, suddenly needing something to do as she gathered her courage.
"Fine," he clipped out between clenched teeth.
She busied herself taking the rolls out of the oven and putting several on a plate for him. Then she poured him a cup of coffee and placed the drink and pastry in front of him. When she took the seat across from him, she still wasn't sure how to begin explaining her feelings. She had never been good at that. She had always guarded how she felt close to her heart.
"I can help you finish putting up the fence. There isn't much left to do," she said, watching him take a bite of a cinnamon roll, then several sips of his coffee. "That is if you'll agree to finish the fence."
"I'd planned to spend a few hours taking it down, so I guess I can take that time to complete it instead." His gaze lifted to seize hers in a long, searching look. "Why, Tess? What's this about?"
"My past, the past you accused me of not being able to let go."
His brow wrinkled, his eyes becoming pinpoints. "Are you telling me you have?"
"I hope so." She glanced away, his intense gaze stripping away her nerve. "I don't know how to begin, Zachariah. I'm not very good with words."
"Oh, I'd say you can get your point across. In the hospital when Wesley was in surgery, you made yourself crystal clear to me. You wanted nothing to do with me beyond that of an acquaintance."
She swung her regard back to his face and saw the pain in his eyes before he veiled his expression. "This is not fair. You shouldn't hold me responsible for what I said or did that night." A corner of her mouth tipped upward, wanting to ease the tension between them.
"I didn't at first until I saw you again in the hospital corridor and you still couldn't allow me to help you. That's when I knew it was time to move on. I'll beat my head against the wall only so long."
His voice sounded so detached as he spoke that Tess's heart skipped a beat, then thudded slowly. "For years I've been afraid of rejection. After my husband left me, my motto became reject before you are rejected," she said with a shaky laugh. "I kept people at a distance. I was determined to go it alone. When I had to accept my grandmother's help because of the children, I thought I had failed somehow. So I was even more determined not to accept anyone else's help when I moved to Crystal City. I thought I had something to prove to myself."
Zachariah brought his mug to his lips and took a swallow of the coffee, his eyes bound to hers. "So you think you're ready to accept help? Is that what this fence thing proves?"
The coldness in his question made her breath catch. "And this." She reached into her jeans pocket, withdrew a piece of paper and slid it across to him.
He read it. "The hospital bill?"
"Yeah. The insurance company is paying eighty percent, but that still leaves twenty for me. You wanted to help me pay for Wesley's accident. I'm accepting your offer. Whatever you want to pay is fine with me."
"Even all of it?"
She nodded.
Surprise flickered into his gaze. He whistled. "The fence and the bill."
"I'm serious." She gripped the edge of the chair she was sitting in. "I was wrong about so many things, especially you and I."
He swallowed hard, then slowly shook his head. "I just can't take the chance. When Wesley had the accident that was a time for you and I to grow closer. You needed someone to lean on and you pushed me away. I can't tell you how much that hurt."
Her fingers dug into the wood of the chair. She felt his pain and knew she was losing him. "I love you, Zachariah."
He didn't respond to her declaration. He stared at the table in front of him.
Panic rose to choke her throat. She felt it tightening, cutting off her breath. She had to do something to convince him, something bold, a risk. Standing on shaky legs, she walked around the table and sat in his lap, putting her arms around his neck before he rejected her.
His gaze riveted to hers. "What this?"
"This is called seduction, Mr. Smith. It's obvious you don't believe my words when I say them so I'll show you that I love you. If you haven't figured it out by now, saying those words doesn't come easily to a woman who doesn't give herself away much, who in the past has had them thrown back into her face."
Tess cupped her hands along his jaw line and brought her mouth down hard on his. It took only a few seconds for him to decide to part his lips enough to allow her tongue to explore inside. His taste was like nectar; his scent was like an aphrodisiac, inflaming her body. She melted against him, wanting to become a part of him. His arms came up to encircle her and press her even closer.
"Where is everyone?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.
"Gone. Even Wesley. Granny Kime took him and Katie to a movie."
"And Bruce?" Zachariah nibbled a path to her earlobe and feasted on it.
She snuggled into his chest, her bottom squirming in his lap. "Corralled in the boys' bedroom."
"Then we are really alone?"
She nodded, unable to say another word while his mouth devoured her sensitive earlobe.
Suddenly he stopped kissing her and held her away. "For how long?"
She blinked several times, trying to bring her rioting senses under control long enough to answer him. "An hour."
"Not long enough. When we make love, Tess Morgan, I want to spend all day and night, exploring every inch of your body, kissing every inch of your body."
The flames in his eyes scorched her. "When we make love?" she murmured in a barely audible voice, every inch of that body on fire.
He took her face within his large hands. "We're gonna do this proper. Will you marry me? Soon? Because if you don't, I don't know how long I can control myself."
"Yes." Tears misted in her eyes.
He breathed deeply. "I don't know if I can wait. You're one sexy lady."
"It's the cinnamon. It's an aphrodisiac. I made the rolls deliberately."
He tossed back his head and laughed. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble. Just one look at you does it every time or hadn't you figured that out by now?"
"This is new for me. I've never felt so—cherished."
"And loved. Don't forget that, Tess. I love you with or without your cinnamon. I had a good marriage. I know how important sharing is, being partners." He cocked a grin. "That doesn't mean I won't want to help you and be there for you, sharing your joy and pain. Will that bother you? I'm not your ex-husband."
"If it does, you'll hear about it. I'm learning to stand up for myself and that part won't change. But instead of pushing you away, I'll talk to you about it. We'll work it out."
His grin encompassed his whole face as his fingers delved through her hair and pulled her toward him. "This will be an adventure."
"A second chance at love," she murmured against his lips before taking them in a deep kiss.
# # #
About the Author:
Margaret Daley, an award-winning author of eighty-four books, has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in ro
mance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread and corralling her three cats that think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret visit her website at http://www.margaretdaley.com.
Dear Reader,
Yours, Mine and Ours is the second book in the Second Chances Series. I believe we are all given second chances. Each story in this series is about those second chances to find love. In the first book in the series (Love Gone to the Dogs) Leah and Shane are brought together by their dogs. Their pets form an attachment. Can the two owners form an attraction for each other? Or, has love gone to the dogs?
If you read this book or any of my books, please consider writing a review for the story and posting it on Amazon. You can contact me through my website: http://www.margaretdaley.com to find out more about me and my other books.
Best Wishes,
Margaret Daley
Other Books by the Author:
Deadly Race (romantic suspense)
Love Gone to the Dogs (1st book in Second Chances Series)
Other Books by Margaret Daley
Yours, Mine and Ours (Second Chances) Page 15