by C J Marie
He scoffed. She tried to tease him, but her lips were still pulled tight and if he was honest, Jo was folding those clothes with more furious vigor than was normal. “Everything okay?” Last time he inquired about her well-being she flipped it around on him, but today her shoulders slumped slightly.
Jo studied the ivory blouse in her hands for a moment before clearing her throat and folding the piece over her lap. “I’m fine. Just fine.”
Zac shook his head even if her back was facing him. “Give me a second.” He tromped down his hallway toward his bedroom. Zac dropped the towel and dressed at an inhuman pace. The athletic shorts he slipped on hung a little long and despite a few wrinkles in the T-shirt, it smelled clean. Wiping the dampness from his dark, messy hair he tromped back into the living room where Jo was placing her newly cleaned clothes in her messenger bag.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes scanning his body in one sweep again. Zac could get used to that. “I’ll be out of your way soon.”
“You’re not in my way,” he insisted. No beating around the bush, Zac didn’t want Jo to leave. Off limits. He needed to hang a sign around her neck with those words to remind himself she was not his to gawk at. Zac released a drawn breath and sunk into the chair opposite from her. “How was the lunch?”
The corner of Jo’s mouth tugged up. Zac wasn’t ashamed to say Jo was beautiful, but in truth, he didn’t know much about her other than she disliked him, she loved being a PA, and her Bostonian accent was thicker when she was frustrated. He didn’t even know how old she was. As the sun settled in the sky casting pink ribbons of soothing summer light, Zac found he was content to take the time to know more about Jo Graham.
She relaxed against his couch, staring at him as if deciding if they would engage in small talk or not. She seemed to accept the idea after a palpable pause. “Lunch was fun. That was surprisingly nice of you letting me off the rest of the afternoon.”
He grinned, fingering a small tear in the hem of his shirt. It wouldn’t have hurt to take a little more time dressing. “I didn’t have a choice. Olive and Lily made sure to sic their husbands on me and convince me to call it a day. I suspect it’s because the girls wanted to stay at the battery later. Those women could live on the beach and be plum happy.”
Jo laughed. “You run a lax ship if your employees’ wives can tell you what to do.”
Zac tilted his head. “Would you cross Ollie or Lily? Or worse—Dot?’
That made Jo grin wider. “No, I suppose they have their ways of making you suffer, but what I know of them, they wouldn’t stop smiling and complimenting you while they did it.”
Zac pointed his finger at her and nodded. “Southern hospitality even through torture. It’s our way.” She smiled, but eventually stared at her bag, that tight look to her lips returning. “You going to tell me why you’re frowning, or do I get the pleasure of guessing?”
Jo raised her eyes before turning her attention to the front room. “You have a nice house.”
Zac chuckled, taking in the refurbished room. It was updated, and smelled like new leather and fresh rain thanks to those little fresheners his mama made him plug into the walls. “Thanks. It took some time fixing it up, but I’m happy with how it turned out.” Zac crossed his arms and leaned against the armrest on his chair. “That was quite a way to avoid my question, by the way.”
Jo smiled, but when the air left her lungs, her body slumped a bit in defeat. “I’m fine, really.” She met his unwavering expression before she huffed and cocked her head at his stubborn insistence. “I had a little argument with Emmitt before coming over here, happy now?”
Zac nodded. “I’m all ears. Vent, curse Doctor Perfect’s name.”
She shook her head. “No thanks.”
“Somewhere else you need to be? I’m pretty sure my dryer is holding your clothes hostage for the next twenty minutes.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d be the one to ask me to vent relationship woes.”
Zac raised his eyebrows. “Because you’ve sworn to hate me, right? Because I’m the devil incarnated? His spawn? Why?”
She sighed, and rolled her eyes again. “You’re a stubborn man,” she snapped, but at least she was grinning again. “Fine, if you must butt your nose in my business, Dot officially offered me a night position at the clinic. I told Emmitt about it and he…was less than enthusiastic.”
Zac wasn’t smiling now, more confused really. “Why would he care? Seems like he’d be thrilled to have you back at medical care since he’s a doctor.”
Jo’s lips tightened until they were a thin, pale line. “Not if it’s family practice.”
“I’m not following.”
“Emmitt thinks family practice is simple, brainless medical care. Specializing—you know, the brain, lungs, the heart, that’s where real prestige comes from,” she said, pointing toward herself. “He thinks it’s going to distract me from my pediatric cardiac certification exam I’ve been working toward.”
“Do you think clinic’s like Dot’s are simple, or whatever?”
Jo shook her head without hesitation. “Not at all.” She threaded her fingers in her lap, and her eyes steadied on him with firmness that send his heart bruising against his sternum. “Family practice is where I always thought I’d work, actually.”
Surprising. “Well, why don’t you?”
She grinned, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “Emmitt and I have goals. Cardiac care can help us reach those goals. He’s so close to a cardiology fellowship. It’s important to be unified.”
Zac laughed, he hadn’t meant to let the absurdity slip out, but he couldn’t help it. “That’s stupid.” She looked at him incredulously. “Sorry, but come on Jo, are you admitting that you’re specializing in something you don’t want to do all because your perfect doctor wants to be some hot-shot cardiologist?”
“You wouldn’t understand. Specializing is difficult and together we can help each other.”
“But you don’t like it. The more you talk about it, the more I can see that.”
“Look, family practice is great, but Emmitt’s right. My options open up with specialized endorsements, so do his.”
“So let him love the heart,” Zac said. “You do what you want to do. He shouldn’t be in charge of your career. We work too long in this life so it makes it easier if we’re doing something we love.”
“Good philosophy,” she muttered. “Read that from a self-help book you keep tucked beneath your pillow?”
Zac didn’t flinch, even if she was trying to rile him up. It seemed whenever Jo Graham felt challenged she responded by bristling and it made him curious. “No, my dad told me that.” Jo silenced. He hadn’t meant to make it awkward, but it was true. He had several memories of his father telling him to do what sparked passion inside—life was too short to live otherwise—and in the case of his dad, that was true.
“Oh,” she muttered. “Sorry.”
“For what?” Zac pressed. “It’s true. Do what you love to do, or the days will be long and dull, in my opinion.”
She smiled softer now. “It’s not always so black and white.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“You always wanted to be a mechanic?”
Zac shook his head. “No, I always wanted the shop. I like the business side of things, and getting dirty. I get the full package. I took business classes so my uncle would feel confident leaving it to me. But, that place is in my earliest memories. My dad was a co-owner before he died. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
They stared at each other, the air seemed to thicken between them, and there was that want to hold her hand pestering him again. Jo wrapped the end of her braid around her fingers again. “I like that answer, Zachariah. I’m glad for you, really.”
“Well, Miss Josephine,” he enunciated the last syllable of her name. “You can have the same, you know. I saw the way your face lit up stitching up August—as odd as that sounds saying it out loud since it makes yo
u sound a little crazy—do what you love. That’s what I think anyway.”
She crossed her legs, showing off a little peek of her toned thighs. Not a good way to keep his thoughts from wandering. “I guess, for a few weeks I’ll do that. It will be our little secret that I’m excited to work at the clinic.”
Zac shook his head. “It shouldn’t need to be a secret, especially not if Doctor Dreamy is supposed to care about you.”
“Are you a relationship guru?”
“I might be single, but it’s not like I’ve always been single. I’m not an angel, but I wouldn’t discourage anyone from doing what they want to do because I thought I knew better.”
Jo stared at him. Her gaze penetrated deep enough that it sent him shifting and squirming in his chair. Her expression softened, and there was a maddening need to know what she was thinking building in his brain. She seemed ready to say something, but the echoing buzz from the dryer announced her clothes had finished.
“I’d better get going,” she whispered. “Thanks for letting me use your laundry room.”
“Anytime, Jo,” he muttered, his gaze following her as she shuffled down the hallway.
Zac wanted to press the issue, but he bit his tongue. Doctor Douche didn’t make sense. Why would a fiery, bold woman like Jo deal with stupidity and arrogance to the point some guy could convince her to do something she didn’t want to do?
He didn’t know, but Zac wanted to find out—and he planned to.
***
The back of her throat had dried like the surface of the sun. Jo took a long gulp of water that had a subtle metallic taste, to no avail. Plopping back on the springy bed in the motel she covered her face with the lumpy pillow and took a few deep breaths. The motel might not be anything to brag about, but Maggie used a delicious scent in her laundered bedding. The longer Jo breathed in the vanilla lavender aroma, the more her racing heart eased.
After battling Zac for ten minutes on whether he was going to driver her back to the motel, Jo walked smugly down the road. He should’ve known better than to argue with a woman from Boston. Thoughts of the man hadn’t left her mind. Look, she was a woman with eyes, so when a man complete with a damp, bare chest met her in the doorway she was going to take a peek. Let’s just say, Jo wasn’t disappointed that she had. She was accustomed to viewing Zac in his jumpsuit, his fingers and hands coated in grease, his hair tousled, and his body sweaty from the day’s work. His body wasn’t meant to be chiseled. His chest wasn’t supposed to be covered in the perfect amount of chest hair—not a sasquatch, but it wasn’t like Zac waxed. Jo hadn’t anticipated passing the lonely, midnight hours cursing herself for imagining what it would feel like to caress the divots and dimples of those pectorals and abdominals. Emmitt stayed in shape, but there weren’t sexy ripples on the man’s body—that’s all she’d say.
She tried to call Emmitt, since it was the only logical way to clear her adulterous mind, but he didn’t answer. He wasn’t supposed to be at the clinic, but Jo didn’t allow herself to wonder about Emmitt too long before she gave into thoughts of the hour alone with Zac Dawson in his house. Jo wasn’t too prideful to admit she liked the way his rumbling drawl sounded as he’d told her to do what she loved. How many years had she desired for anyone to tell her those words? It was like a foreign concept now since she’d come to believe every reasoning from Emmitt, his father, her roommates, her own father before—well, before life changed. Jo didn’t expect the words to come from the one who’d taken her freedom. Okay, that was a little dramatic.
After battling in vain for too long, Jo spent the late hours streaming comedy sketches on her cell phone, since Maggie still had TV with a dial on the front. Yes, an antique stared at her in the face, antenna and all.
Jo might have added an extra layer of gloss to her lips—and it was enough to stack guilt on her shoulders, especially after waking to a text from Emmitt apologizing for missing her call and an I love you. Okay, it was a heart emoji, but Jo got the idea.
She hung her purse on the back hook, glancing around the corner to Zac’s closed office—he must not be in yet. Did it matter if Zac was in yet? Jo shook her head, avoiding her own rhetorical question. Once she turned around, her heart nearly combusted when she came face to face with a lanky man leaning over the desk. His toothy grin hinted he had extra teeth in his mouth, and the way he licked his lips as he scanned Jo’s figure almost made her laugh. Every second passing was painstakingly clear this man had no game.
“Hey there,” he rasped. “Who sent an angel to take me to heaven?”
Jo scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. I must be dead to see someone as beautiful as you.”
Her lips tugged at the corner when the stranger took a step behind the desk and reached for a jumpsuit hanging behind the desk. “Ah, you must be Andy.”
“You’ve been thinking about me too, I see.”
She snickered. Rafe and August weren’t lying, the man wasn’t intimidating, but incredibly awkward. Poor sap, at least he got an A for effort. “That obvious, huh?”
“You can’t ignore a connection when it comes.”
She rolled her eyes, pretty certain Andy wouldn’t notice anyway and held out her hand. “I’m Jo.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Andy purred, taking her hand and kissing the top. His lips were too wet, and Jo had to fight the urge to snort in his face. “How would I not know your name?”
“Well, we’ve never met, so there’s always that.”
Andy smiled wide, and Jo was left to wonder again how he fit all those teeth in his mouth. “I don’t have to meet you to know you’re perfect, like you were hand designed for me.”
“Hush your mouth, Andy. You’re barking up the wrong tree, boy and you’re getting worse. You’re going to bring a lawsuit to my door if you keep that up,” Zac grumbled when he stomped around the corner. Jo flushed, air slipping into her lungs in breathy puffs as she tried not to crush Andy’s hopes and dreams by laughing in his face. “You need to leave the ladies alone—that includes customers, Andy. Mr. Hendricks won’t even send his girl to get her oil changed here anymore.”
“I didn’t know she was seventeen.”
“That’s the problem, you never use the brain God gave you. Now, get to work.”
Andy waved over his shoulder with a coy wink at Jo before Zac forced him behind the glass window wall.
Jo covered her mouth as she opened the calendar on the desk, she could sense the tips of her ears were shining in crimson as she muffled more laughter.
“Sorry about him,” Zac grumbled. He wasn’t dressed for work yet, and Jo took the opportunity to admire the stretch of his T-shirt over his shoulders.
Stop it, Josephine!
“It’s okay, he didn’t touch until he kissed my hand. It’s not like you didn’t warn me either.”
“He kissed your hand?” Zac groaned. “I told him to stop doing that. Well, sorry anyway, it’s not like he’ll be a bother to you much longer.”
Jo stopped stacking papers, eyeing Zac as he huffed and rested his hands on his hips. “Why not? Don’t fire him over that, I didn’t get a creepy sense from him at all—just misguided flirting. He needs a role model.”
She tried to keep her tone light, but the space between Zac’s brow only furrowed more. “It’s not Andy I need to let go.”
Her throat tightened. She didn’t like the way his voice lowered as he took a step closer. “What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t working out, Jo.”
“What?”
“Sorry, I don’t think this is the best place for you.”
“Zac, I…why? What am I supposed to do—I’m court ordered to be here!”
He nodded, and her blood boiled. What was he doing? The other option was what? Picking trash off the road? Jail? Why would he do this? “I know you are, I just…well, I hate the way you make phone calls.”
“You’re kidding me. That’s why you’re going to—”
> “It takes a certain finesse, Jo,” Zac continued. Was he smiling? All those thoughts about his mouth-watering body were shifting once again to frustrated fury toward the man. “I think you’d be better suited somewhere else full-time.”
“I can’t believe you. You’re actually firing me because of phone calls?”
Zac shrugged and she could’ve slapped him. “Well, and because there’s a need elsewhere, I’m not that big of a jerk, Jo.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about Zachariah, but I would argue the jerk part.”
He laughed—like a bully enjoying his torment too much. “I’m not going to leave you hanging, Jo. I found you another job to do for the remaining two and a half weeks.”
“Oh, really? The dump?”
He chuckled and shook his head, reaching like Andy to grab a jumpsuit. There was a flash of sun glare in the parking lot as a black corvette pulled up to the shop. Zac was leaning closer, and Jo found herself mentally incapacitated when he leaned his sparkling obsidian eyes closer. “No, I think a woman like you would be better suited at something like…a clinic maybe. You know, cleaning up cuts, taking care of infections, all the gross stuff out there.”
Jo held her breath, her heart thumping like a stampede in her chest when the door dinged. Jo cracked a smiled when Dot took off her sunglasses and waved. “Ready to go?”
“Go?” Jo breathed, smiling at Zac.
He shrugged, taking the jumpsuit. “Like I said, Jo. Not everyone can handle the office of the shop. It takes a special person. Seems you’d be better suited for an easier job in the medical field. No hard feelings.”
She beamed at Dot who was now looking at her cell phone before Jo faced Zac at the same time August stepped into the office. His hand was still bandaged and he wasn’t dressed in the uniform jumpsuit. “You’re in my seat,” August insisted with a smile.
Jo slipped from behind the desk, her voice lower when she glanced at Zac. “You’re really firing me so I can…work at the clinic? But what about…”