When We Met

by C J Marie

  Zac’s eyes brightened, and it seemed like he might be trying to hold back a smile, but he simply nodded and said, “Okay.”

  “When your mom invited me to your dad’s birthday dinner, I said yes as soon as I found out he was gone…because I know how it feels. My dad died two years ago—only there aren’t birthday dinners in his honor. I never get to talk about him, or it usually ends in a subject change, or an argument.”

  Zac furrowed his brow. “Why?”

  “My dad was a doctor—family practice. I grew up visiting his clinic, playing in the waiting room, stealing the suckers and treats for patients.” Jo sighed, smiling at the long buried memories. “I told you there is history connected to family practice that Emmitt didn’t want me to let back in, and I guess he’s right. I fell in love with family practice, getting to know entire families as patients. My dad had children as patients who then grew up and brought their own to him. It was like one big community. I saw how happy it made him and I wanted that too. But it changed.”

  Zac scooted closer, his focus entirely on Jo. “What happened?”

  “When I was twelve, my mom left.” Jo cleared her throat to continue forward. “I guess she wanted a different life, with different people or something. It’s not like my parents just divorced and shared weekends; my mom didn’t even fight for any sort of custody. She left both of us. All I get now are Christmas cards from her and her new family I’ve never even met. Want to know why I despised this place at first?”

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  Jo scoffed bitterly. “My mom lives in South Carolina now. What are the odds right? She met a guy on a business trip here, decided he was her knight in shining armor, and took off. The first Christmas card was a picture of them kissing on Myrtle beach.”

  Zac raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. That’s…I don’t know how to make that sound any better, to be honest.”

  Jo nudged his shoulder, and smiled. “It’s alright. I found a few other things that make this place worth admiring.” Jo dropped her gaze quickly, and cleared her throat. “Anyway, my dad’s change was slow at first, but after a few years I could see him giving up on life.” Jo bit back the stinging emotion. She hadn’t spoken of her family in so long, Jo thought she’d healed from the ache, but it remained as strong as ever. Zac’s arm hung around her shoulders, and she took advantage by leaning against him. “He started drinking—a lot. I tried to help him, but it got worse after I went to college. Eventually, he stopped practicing. He couldn’t keep up with the demands, and he started to wither away. The last time I saw him sober was at my graduation from PA school. It was one of the last times I saw him truly happy.”

  Zac tightened his embrace around her shoulders, and Jo nearly came apart when he kissed the side of her head. “I’m sorry, Jo.”

  “Two years ago he died from liver disease. I’d been dating Emmitt for about a year at that point, it was good to have someone, I guess. Emmitt even handled the will and all that. His father is a lawyer, and turns out my dad used everything we had to feed his habit. I didn’t need anything material, I wanted my dad. I was grateful for the help after his death, but Emmitt, well, he didn’t have much compassion for my dad’s choices, and wanted to make sure I was nothing like him, I guess. So, that’s why he gets so upset over family practice.”

  “Jo—”

  “No, it’s fine,” Jo insisted, embarrassment for revealing such vulnerable confessions bubbling to the surface. “It happened, and now it’s done. I couldn’t save my dad, no one could.”

  Zac’s hand tightened around her fingers, and her breath locked inside her lungs when she met the intensity of his gaze. “It’s not fine, Jo,” Zac said. “It’s not fine that you aren’t able to talk about your dad, that you’re encouraged to forget something you love because someone else looks down on the man. It sounds like your dad made a few mistakes, but it doesn’t lessen that he was your dad, and it sounds like you two were really close.”

  Jo hated the burn of tears. The twilight coating the brilliant tree wasn’t dim enough that Zac wouldn’t see. Flickers of fireflies created a celestial feel to the clearing, but Jo wished her guard wasn’t so crumbled that she was crying once more in front of Zac.

  “We were close,” she sniffed. “He was my best friend. Even when he was drinking, my dad celebrated all my victories, remembered all the important things. He was still my dad, he just… got lost. I’m angry at him for falling, because he took himself from me in a lot of ways. Yet, all that is such a small piece of his legacy, you know? He did so much good for people—he had unrivaled compassion for others, but was such an intelligent physician he could successfully diagnose after the simplest exam.”

  “Then talk about him,” Zac encouraged, his strong hand trapping one side of her face. “I can’t imagine not talking about my dad, Jo. I know he wasn’t perfect, but remembering the good things—it’s what helps me get through the harder times since he’s been gone. It sounds like your dad was an awesome guy. So,” he cleared his throat, and settled back against the bench. “What was your favorite thing to do together?”

  Jo beamed, her vison blurry with fresh tears—not sad tears, but relief. She chuckled, and didn’t fret over a few stray drops on her cheeks. “You want to hear all this?”

  Zac nodded. “Lay it on me. Favorite thing to do.”

  “Okay. Well there was this creamery we used to go to. Milkshakes bigger than anything you’ve seen. We would always go before going to a movie. Whoever could eat the most ice cream before getting a brain freeze would get to pick the show.” Jo laughed, remembering her dad usually lost in a dramatic way that made other customers think he was dying. Looking back, he probably let her win every time. Her smiled faded as she yearned for those moments again. “Those were the best nights.” She looked at Zac who hadn’t taken his eyes away. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face she grinned. “What about you—what did you love to do with your dad?”

  “Fishing. Hands down, guys only fishing days. It’s so boring to be honest, but when it was with my dad, we always found a way to make it a blast—usually by ending up in the water, and no fish to show for our day. I can’t go anymore. I tried, but it’s not the same.”

  “Maybe you need to find the right fishing partner.”

  He nodded. “Maybe.”

  Tears dried, laughs came, and Jo couldn’t remember a more enjoyable time sauntering through memories of her father. She learned about Zac’s family life. They related about being the only child, and growing up with one parent. Zac talked about how his uncle had stepped in, and had always been a part of his life. She told him how her father was the best study partner through college, that August should thank him for her knowledge on sutures. Jo had stitched banana peels from fifteen until graduation. It was another competition she and her dad did when they were bored. He always had the steadier hands though.

  Jo knew open wounds were still gaping inside, but by the time they stalked back to the truck once thick darkness surrounded Angel Oak, she felt as if a lead burden of anguish had lifted. Her father was always celebrated in her heart, but over the years Emmitt had villainized him, made him a failure, and to her shame, she almost believed it.

  Zac reminded her of the truth that night, and Jo found more comfort clutching his hand on the drive home that she nearly forgot about her no-good, cheating boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—back home.

  Chapter 12

  Jo clutched her purse as she slipped out of the truck. Zac stepped from the driver’s seat too, and she couldn’t say she was disappointed he didn’t plan to zoom away. The clinic was dark, only a few twenty-four hour lights brightened the parking lot. She stalked toward Olive’s car, breathing in the spicy masculinity of Zac at her side.

  “Thank you, again,” she muttered once they stood at the silver car. “You helped me cope with Mr. Garcia’s death better than I could have done alone.”

  Zac shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not about Emmitt though?”
/>   “Who’s Emmitt?”

  He chuckled and pointed at Jo. “That’s what I like to hear.” Zac paused, his eyes glinting like dark stars in the lights. “I’m glad to help, but I had a good time too. I liked learning more about you.”

  “Why? Does it explain my quirks you find annoying?”

  Zac nodded, and took a breathless step closer. “It does, but I wouldn’t say you’re annoying.”

  Jo swallowed, their bodies were close enough she could rest her palm on his chest if she wanted—and she wasn’t saying she didn’t want to—Jo’s mind was simply lost at a careening speed she couldn’t process what to do. “Hopefully, it painted a different picture, for the better.”

  Fiery delight spilled through her body when Zac’s strong, confident hands trapped both sides of her face. His eyes were a beacon in the dark, drawing her closer. Even if there was the tug of apprehension in the back of her mind, Jo had little desire to pull away. This man was supposed to be despicable, but somehow he’d found a pleasant place in her thoughts—she might even venture far enough to say her heart could be opening toward Zac Dawson.

  “I’m not sure there is better, Jo,” he breathed. Jo’s nerve endings sparked like fireworks. Her mind bellowed for him to close the gap, but the pounding pressure staking between them fueled the delicious desire to the point Jo gave in, and did rest her palm on his chest. She could feel his pulse rush through his strong body, pounding rapidly like her own. “Quirks and all, I don’t think you should change a thing.”

  Jo’s lips parted as if they had minds of their own, her body pressed against his, and Jo could have swooned from the rush to her head when one of Zac’s powerful arms wrapped around her waist. He inched his mouth closer. Jo was in a beautiful panic, but a panic, nonetheless. “Zac…”

  “Tell me to stop and I will, Jo,” he breathed, so his lips brushed against hers. Every limb, tips of her toes and fingers, tingled in intoxicating numbness that came from the rush of a heart.

  Jo met his glance, tilted in the perfect position. Their volatile acquaintance meant nothing in this moment. Jo released a soft breath before finishing the job, and pressing her mouth against Zac’s waiting lips.

  Zac’s grip tightened around her waist, his other hand cupped the back of her head as he pressed her firmer against his mouth. Jo moaned in the back of her throat when passion picked up a notch and their mouths parted, his taste sweet and addicting on her tongue. Zac had a tantalizing kiss—slow, gentle, yet demanding in a way that sent her insides spinning like a tilt-a-whirl. Zac backed her against the car, from shoulders to toes their bodies collided. His rough stubble teased her palms as her fingers tangled in his hair, and she clung to his neck. Her lungs inhaled the aroma of the fresh summer night mingled with Zac’s clean skin with that perfect hint of the auto shop she’d grown to crave.

  For so many years Jo had acclimated to Emmitt’s kiss, but this was a new playing field of sensation. Perhaps her relationship had faded into dull habit long ago, and meeting Zac was the catalyst to open her eyes. She didn’t care, Jo simply wanted this man to keep kissing her. And kissing her, and kissing her.

  Her chest peaked in labored breaths, Zac’s shoulders rose and fell in heavy gasps when they came up for air. Jo couldn’t be certain how much time had passed—two minutes, two days, she’d live it again to feel the vibrant warmth that Zac’s kiss brought spread through her body a thousand times more.

  He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and smiled. “Thanks for not telling me to stop.”

  Jo chuckled, covering her face with her hands until Zac gently urged them way, and caressed his thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t expect this when I came here.”

  “The best things usually sneak up on people,” Zac whispered against her mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before taking the dreaded step back.

  Did she even want this night to end? What an insane thought. Only hours earlier she’d driveled and sobbed over Emmitt’s betrayal. Now—as she’d said to Zac—Emmitt who? At least for tonight. The morning light might cast a glow over the dreary reality once more, so perhaps it was wise to wake up alone. No matter how much she wanted to be unwise.

  Jo brushed her hand along the strong edge of his jaw, the pull of his smile beneath her palm sending her heart into overdrive. “I’d better go.”

  Zac nodded, pressing against her again—the way he smirked, Jo guessed he enjoyed her full body reaction when her breath caught—and he opened the car door. “See you later, Josephine.”

  “Bye, Zachariah,” she rasped, her smile permanently in place as she dropped into the driver’s seat.

  Zac backed away, waving once as she started the ignition. Like the unexpected knight in shining armor he was, Zac waited until she pulled safely out of the parking lot before he got back into the truck.

  Jo let out a small squeal like a teen girl who got asked to prom. How long had the rush of blood sent her stomach in those irresistible knots? What an ironic turn of events. The man who made the call that took her freedom in a sense was the one who was slowly taking her heart captive. And Jo would do it all again to live a little longer in this rush.

  Jo jumped, and recoiled her arm from the attempt to puncture skin with metal prongs. “Ouch,” she scoffed toward Dot who pulled back her fork.

  Dot snickered, as did Olive and Jace. Lily had a shift, but Abby had come out to lunch in her place today. Although Abby was in a different phase of life than the others, she was the life of the party with her bold conversation topics. Jo flushed for Olive when Abby asked her how many drops in the bucket there’d been since marrying Rafe a month earlier—if you catch the meaning.

  “Lost track a long time ago, Abs,” Olive laughed instead of succumbing to embarrassment. Now, Olive cocked her head, grinning slyly when Jo rubbed the indents from Dot’s fork away.

  “Sorry,” Dot muttered. “But your head is somewhere else, I’ve said your name like a dozen times.”

  “Sorry,” Jo sighed. “I zoned out for a second.”

  “Abby asked you a question, and we’d all like an answer,” Dot smirked.

  “What did you ask, Abby?”

  Abby smiled in a way that hinted something was about to drop. Jo mentally prepared for whatever it could be. “I was curious why—when I drove by the clinic after grocery shopping last night, a certain truck and silver car were still at the clinic. Long after closing time, I might add.”

  Jo clamped on the inside of her cheek to keep her sheepish grin from spreading. Thoughts of the blazing kiss igniting an inferno of tension and hungry want for more. Her ridiculous body flared to life with every little thought. It happened, and it was the pleasant thought that got her through the three phone calls from Emmitt—of course she’d ignored each one—but after his name would disappear from her screen, Jo would close her eyes and remember the tender way Zac’s mouth had led hers. The way he’d asked her about her father, even hearing the darker memories, he’d told her he sounded like super dad, where Emmitt saw him as a fallen genius who drank himself to death.

  “I told you, Zac brought me my textbook,” Jo muttered.

  Abby lifted one brow. “Mmm-hmm. It does take a long time to drop off a book. Be honest now, Jo. How was he?”

  “Abby,” Jo cried, smacking her forearm. “I’m not doing things at the clinic.”

  “Why not? You think Dot would mind?”

  Dot crinkled her nose. “Uh, that depends. I’m all for love-making, but let’s keep it clean and sanitary for the rest of us, alright?”

  Jo sighed, and covered her face with her hands, muffling her voice through her palms. “There was no love making.” Pulling her hands away, she chuckled when Abby’s face shadowed in sincere disappointment. “Zac stayed longer because he…walked into an unfortunate situation. Like the decent guy he is, he became a…shoulder to cry on, I guess.” And kiss—oh, and kiss.

  “Are you alright?” Olive gasped, covering Jo’s hand with her own. “What in mercy’s name happened?”
>
  Jo sighed, again unleashing the tales of woes on the women. Most of her adult life Jo had learned to keep feelings, truths, unspoken fears inside. Emmitt wanted them to be a power couple, only focusing on the positive, and anything dark and gritty could be shoved deep inside. No rocking the boat. Jo hardly recognized herself as she vented Emmitt’s cheating ways, the death of poor Joseph Garcia, and Zac’s saving visit to Angel Oak. Yet, when it was over, she had a smile on her lips and felt ten pounds lighter.

  “Dirtbag.”

  “Pig.”

  “Creep.”

  Each woman had their own version of Emmitt’s new name once Jo finished. She nodded. “Agreed to all those.”

  “Although,” Jace chirped, tapping her chin with her index finger. “I must say I’m impressed Zac was the hero of the night. And I really never expected him to open up about his dad to anyone outside his circle.”

  “Especially at Angel Oak,” Dot added. “I think Jo crossed the circle line.”

  “True,” Olive exclaimed. “That is Zac’s solitary place. Even Rafe doesn’t go with him when he needs to clear his head.”

  “I thought it was sweet,” Jo insisted. “It was what I needed.”

  “Girl, what you need is that man beneath the sheets, giving you a special sort of hug,” Abby muttered.

  Olive, Jace and Dot snorted, and Jo smacked Abby’s arm again. Jo needed something, and she wouldn’t deny to herself she wouldn’t mind if Zac showed his face a little more. Between the sheets, or not—it all sounded tempting.

  “You’re coming to his party on Saturday, right?” Dot pressed.

  Jo shook her head. “Party?”

  “Yeah, it’s Zac’s birthday on Sunday. Agatha called dibs on the actual day—I guess since she’s his mother and all she can have it—but we’re crashing his house and forcing him to party with us on Saturday.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  Dot clapped her hands on the table, and declared like a contract was signed. “Well, you do now. And by the sound of last night if you don’t show up, Zac will pout all night.”