"He was a good guy," she said. "He just got caught up in some stuff he shouldn't have. I wish he would've made more friends with the smart kids in his honors classes, but he didn't." She let a long, slow breath. "I like to think if he knew how things would play out, he would've made better choices."
"I don't mean to pry, but did he cause the accident?" Zachary asked.
She nodded, her hair tickling his face. "He was drunk—way over the legal limit. Unfortunately, my parents weren't exactly sober that night, so I had to drive them down to…." She paused, shaking next to him.
Zachary squeezed her. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."
Jasmine dissolved into tears. She pressed her face against his chest, shaking even harder, soaking his shirt with her tears. He ran his hands over her hair and then kissed the top of her head, trying to be gentle enough that she wouldn't notice. She wrapped her arms around him, still crying.
Fifteen
Jasmine gasped for air, exhausted from sobbing. She had cried harder than she ever had. Even harder than when Carter had passed. Then, there had been no time to mourn. After he'd died, she'd been forced to take care of her parents, cleaning up after them. After the funeral, the ash trays had filled up faster than ever before and empty bottles littered the floor in every room of the house.
After about a month, her mom had caused the first house fire. Once they settled into a new trailer, Jasmine counted down the days until her graduation. She started her junior year working, cleaning up after her parents, dealing with the stares of classmates, and somehow getting her homework done in between everything else.
It felt good to cry, even though it was long overdue. She hadn't even let herself think about Carter since graduation until her mom showed up.
Jasmine glanced up at Zachary and then noticed out of the corner of her eye that her makeup was smeared all over his light blue shirt. Her black mascara, eyeliner, and brown eyeshadow had left a huge smear on the chest of his shirt.
"Sorry about your shirt," she said, her voice wavering.
He looked down. "It's nothing. I'm more concerned about you." He wiped underneath her eye, his finger lingering on her face.
Jasmine stared into his eyes, her pulse racing at his touch. She felt raw and exposed, but yet safe at the same time. That was something she wasn't used to feeling—she'd never opened up to anyone like that. She kept everyone at a distance on purpose.
The last thing she wanted was to risk wounding anyone the way she'd been. She wasn't so much worried about being hurt. That was something she knew she could deal with—she'd had plenty of practice.
Jasmine was aware of Zachary's finger still on her face. He slid it down slightly until it rested underneath her chin. Suddenly, she wanted him to kiss her.
They continued to stare into each other's eyes, the tension between them thickening by the moment. She was frozen by her emotions, but tried to beg him with her eyes to press his lips against hers. Had she not been so shaken up, she would have moved toward him.
He put pressure on her chin with his finger, brought her face closer to him while he moved his near her. He closed his eyes, and butterflies danced—no, stomped and screamed—in her stomach. His lips brushed against hers and then he pressed firmly. His hand moved from her hair to the small of her back, pushing her closer to him.
Jasmine breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. He smelled of sandalwood and grass, an odd mixture, but surprisingly pleasant. She pressed her lips against his. They were soft and warm, making her feel even safer than she had a moment ago when she had been staring into his eyes.
Zachary pulled back and Jasmine opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. She had never experienced such a kiss. He'd kept it sweet, not opening his mouth, but somehow managed to fill it with passion. She stared at him, wanting more but knowing it would have to wait.
He ran his fingertips along her cheeks, not saying a word. It tickled her skin slightly, but she liked it. She felt a connection so deep she'd never felt that close to anyone before. It was as though she stared directly into his soul.
Zachary cleared his throat. "Do you want some of that lemonade?"
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
He turned around and picked up a glass and poured the drink in. He handed it to her before pouring his own. Jasmine took a sip, surprised at how tasty it was. It was the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, refreshing her from the heat.
They sat in silence, sipping the lemonade until the pitcher emptied. Zachary took her glass and put it on the tray, and then sat back, putting his arm around her again. She snuggled closer, taking in his rugged scent again.
Birds flew through the air, darting down toward the ground and then flying circles around the yard before landing in a bird bath and splashing around.
Jasmine wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. Especially after the sobbing, ruining his shirt, and especially the kiss. Wow. What was left say? She felt emptied—but in a good way.
"Have you visited Carter's grave?" Zachary asked.
"Not in a long time," Jasmine admitted. "I haven't been back home in years."
"At least you have that excuse."
"You haven't visited your sister's?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not since the funeral, actually. I just can't bring myself to. I'm afraid it will bring everything back, and I'm not sure I want to deal with it all over again. Though, now I'm having second thoughts."
Jasmine took his hand. "If you want me to go with you, I will. Or if you want to go alone, do that. But it might be easier with the company."
Zachary squeezed her hand. "It would be nice to go with you. If I went with one of my brothers…." He sighed. "I'm not sure I could do that. It might just be too much."
Her heart swelled at his vulnerability. It couldn't be easy to admit his fears. "I know what you mean. There's no way I could visit Carter with my parents."
"Would you mind going now?" he asked, sitting taller.
"Now?" she asked.
"Before I chicken out."
"You're not a chicken."
Zachary smiled. "I might be, but the only way to prove you right is if we go immediately."
"We'd better go, then. Do you want to change your shirt?" she asked, feeling guilty for smearing her makeup all over it.
"And give me time to talk myself out of it? No. I need to do this. Now." He rose, helped her up, and studied her face. "You're beautiful, you know that?"
Jasmine's cheeks burned and she looked away. "No, I'm not."
Zachary placed his finger underneath her chin and turned it, pulling some of her hair behind her ear. "You are. You're gorgeous, and your heart is even more so."
Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to break through her ribs. She wasn't used to anyone saying things like that. Even the few boyfriends she'd had over the years never said anything like that. Jasmine had a tendency to pick guys that ended up like her family. How had she managed to find Zachary? He was perfect—handsome, well built, imaginative, and kind-hearted.
Hopefully, she wouldn't do anything stupid to lose him.
"You're even prettier when you blush," he said, staring into her eyes.
She shook her head.
He pulled her close and kissed her nose. "I'm going to keep telling you how beautiful you are until you believe it."
"That's going to take a long time." Jasmine covered her mouth. She hasn't meant to say that aloud.
Zachary stepped back and stared deeper into her eyes, his expression melting her insides.
"Then I'll keep telling you for years if I have to. The day you believe it, I'll stop." He brushed his finger across her cheek.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger to her lips.
"I hope you believe it. You really are beautiful."
Jasmine took his hand from her lips and laced her fingers through his. "Let's get going before it gets too close to dinnertime. We're supposed to eat with your family, remember."
/> "We should probably drive, in that case," he said. "I hope you don't mind that my car isn't as nice as Brayden's."
"Neither is mine."
"It's still probably better than mine," he said. "I had to trade down big time in the Big Apple."
She shrugged. "It takes more than a car to impress me, and you've already done that."
"I have?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised.
"Most definitely."
"Let's hope my car doesn't ruin that." He laughed nervously.
"I can't see that happening."
Zachary raised her hand and kissed the back of it. Then he led her across the street to an old car with rusty rims and a number of dents. He let go of her hand and unlocked the passenger door with a key.
"Remote locks are for the birds," he joked and then gestured for her to get in.
"This isn't so bad," Jasmine said, sitting down. A spring dug into her back, but she smiled, ignoring it.
He got in and dug underneath the seat, pulling out a clear CD box with a recordable disc inside. It had bubbly, cursive writing with hearts over the I's.
"What's that?" Jasmine asked.
"It's all of Sophia's favorite songs. She left this in my old car the last time I gave her a ride. I think I was taking her to a school dance. She and her friends were meeting without guys because one of them had just been dumped." He smiled, looking lost in thought. "She had a boyfriend who she adored, but her friends were so close they all ditched their guys to support the dumped friend."
"Aw, that's sweet." Jasmine smiled. "It sounds like she was a great girl."
"That she was." Tears shone in his eyes. "Mind if we listen? I don't even remember what's on there. Though I've kept it in here, I haven't been able to listen to it. Now I finally feel ready."
Jasmine's heart swelled even more than it already had. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up falling in love—and Zachary was quickly winning her over with his kindness and vulnerability. She'd never met anyone like him. He was someone she could see herself falling for, and hard.
She watched him slide the CD into the player and couldn't help admiring him. He handled the disc with such care she could see even further how much his sister still meant to him.
Zachary glanced over at her, meeting her gaze. Tears shone in his eyes as a sweet love song from about four or five years earlier played. "I remember her dancing through the house to this. One time she even used a loaf of French bread as a microphone." He laughed, though tears ran down his face.
Jasmine leaned over and wiped some of his tears away. He held onto her hand and pressed it against his chest so that she could feel his heart pounding against her palm.
"Thank you for everything," he whispered.
"I haven't done anything."
"You've done more than you know." He blinked, spilling out more tears.
Jasmine leaned across to his seat and, heart pounding loud enough for him to hear, she kissed the tears away. Even the ones sticking to his lashes. He closed his eyes, squeezing her hand. She kissed along the path of tears and then sat back, watching him.
A new song played. This one was upbeat, and from about the same time period.
Zachary opened his eyes. "She used to belt this one out all over the place. Even in the shower." He shook his head, smiling. "Her voice carried so that no matter where you were in the house, you could hear her singing."
Jasmine leaned against him and they listened to the song together. When a new one started, she asked, "Do you want me to drive?"
"I… well… I'm not sure."
She leaned back in her seat, ignoring the sharp spring. "It's not like I'm going to make it any worse than it already is," she teased.
He smiled that beautiful smile of his, another tear spilling onto his face. "That's not what I meant."
Sixteen
Zachary climbed out of the passenger seat of his own car, clutching the bouquet of flowers that Jasmine had picked out and purchased. He shook just thinking about visiting Sophia's grave. He hadn't even seen the tombstone in person. Jake had shown him pictures shortly after it had been erected.
He locked the car and then followed the path toward where his sister rested. The permanence of her death hit him at that moment. Obviously, he knew she was gone and that he would never see her again, but going back to where they had laid her a few years ago… it was like a smack to his face.
His knees gave out, but Jasmine must have been right next to him—he hadn't even noticed—because suddenly her arms went around his waist.
"Easy there," she said. "I'm here for you, and if you want privacy, then I'll give you that, too."
His voice caught in his throat, but he managed to find it. "I want you there."
"I have all day." She tightened her grip around his waist, helping him walk.
Zachary's stomach twisted in knots and he felt like he would lose his lunch. That was all he needed, for Jasmine to witness that. He let go of the flowers with one hand and wrapped that arm around her for support, in more ways than one.
They came to an intersecting path.
"Which way do we go?" Jasmine asked.
Zachary looked around, trying to remember. It had been three years, but he recognized the path down to the left. It had a statue of a crying angel. They followed the path. Nearly everything was exactly as he remembered back on the worst day of his life. No one should have to bury their baby sister, ever.
He slowed when they reached a row of tombstones that seemed familiar. There had only been a few when he'd been there, but now not only was the row filled out, but many more were as well. Had that many people in Kittle Falls died over the last three years?
"This row?" Jasmine asked.
Zachary took a deep breath and swallowed. He looked down, remembering standing there with his family and so many of Sophia's friends.
"Must be that one," Jasmine said.
He saw the one she meant. There was one with a teddy bear, framed pictures, dried flowers, and even some envelopes. "Popular even in death." Zachary's voice cracked.
Jasmine moved her arm up to his shoulders and squeezed. "Are you ready?"
His body felt cold despite the heat of the day and Jasmine's warm embrace. He shivered, not wanting to face it—and the fact that he'd mostly been pretending that Sophia was away, only traveling somewhere. If only that were the case. He shivered.
"Come on," Jasmine said, taking a step.
"I can see it from here."
"Let's take a look at the inscription," said Jasmine.
Zachary had the sudden urge to stomp his foot and say that he refused to look. It would be easier to continue living in an imaginary world where his sister was in Paris or some other place she'd dreamed of going, but would never have the chance to visit. He swallowed, unable to ignore the lump in his throat.
He took one step, and then another. All too soon, they stood in front of the grave where his sister had been for the last three years. Zachary dropped to his knees, his vision blurring with more tears. He blinked them away, forcing himself to admire at the stone. It sparkled like new, even more than the others around it.
Someone had been cleaning it—but who?
Finally, he read the inscription: Sophia Anastasia Hunter, beloved daughter and sister. The dates of her life followed, and an angel was sketched off to the side. It was both beautiful and crushing.
"I'm so sorry, Sophia," Zachary whispered, barely audible to his own ears. "I didn't visit because… because… I have no excuse aside from being scared." More tears filled his eyes and then spilled over. "It isn't that I haven't thought of you. Hopefully you know how much I have. This place is so… final."
He remained there in silence, just staring at the stone and gifts other people had left—people braver and kinder than him. Tears fell, and he continued doing nothing to stop them. He thought back over her life, remembering times from when she was a newborn all the way to high school. He didn't want to think about when she was sick. That wasn't h
er—that was the illness.
When the tears stopped, he placed his flowers against the stone. "I hope you like these," he said, "I think you would. They're beautiful. Just like you, both inside and outside." It took him a couple tries to get the flowers to stay up because his hands kept shaking.
He stood and then Jasmine took his hand, squeezing. Zachary wasn't sure how long he'd spent there, but she'd waited the entire time, not making a sound.
"Thank you," he said, his voice still unsteady. His eyes felt swollen, and he was sure they were red—in other words, he was a mess.
"Do you want more time?" she asked.
Zachary looked back over at the stone, now with their flowers against it, and shook his head. Part of him wanted to stay longer. Guilt punched him in the gut. How could he leave his baby sister there by herself? But at the same time, he knew she wasn't really there. If there was a Heaven, she was the life of the party. Maybe peeking down once in a while, keeping an eye on her troublesome brothers.
He walked away, looking at the stone until it was out of sight. He let out a long, deep breath and picked up his pace.
"It was healing, wasn't it?" Jasmine asked.
Zachary fought to find his voice, and his throat was raw. "Yes," was all he could manage.
They came up to a bench in the shade next to a water fountain. "Want to sit?" she asked.
His legs ached, so he sat without a word. Jasmine put her arm around him and he rested his face against his palms. All he could see was Sophia's face, and he wanted nothing more than to see her again and bring her home. Even though things were improving a lot for everyone—especially for his parents, who were now excited about their first grandchild and Brayden's engagement—it wasn't right without their sister. There would always be that empty place, and it would never again be filled or made right.
Finally, he turned to look at Jasmine. She had tears on her face, also.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gruff.
She nodded. "I can't help but feel your pain."
His throat caught. "You're one of the few people who understands."
"Who wouldn't?" she asked. "I don't have to experience loss to see how much this hurts you."
Seaside Dances: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 3) Page 10