When We Met

by C J Marie

  Abby’s feet danced beneath the table, and she shook her shoulders as if her body were about to combust. “Oh, this is all so exciting! What if you were the one who hooked Zac after all this time? The lady who pulverized his shop turned the one who took him off the market.”

  Jo flopped her head onto her hands on the table. “Abby, you are a hopeless romantic.”

  “Of course, how do you think I ended up with three kids each a year apart? Zac might be my perfect piece to my plot on getting you to stay with us instead of going back to the big city.”

  Jo enjoyed the laughter that followed, but it was a truth she’d cloaked since the excitement of last night. This wasn’t meant to last—she didn’t belong here. And that thought left a hollow wound in the center of her chest.

  ***

  Zac startled when a wrench dropped, and Rafe cursed over the sound of the thumping music. Sweat beaded on his brow, the day was scorching, wet, and miserable in the shop. Everyone’s tempers were on the brink of combusting. Except his.

  “How about a new lift?” August muttered through a mouthful of potato chips, his salty fingers stuck to the thin magazine page.

  Zac released a long breath, and rose from beneath the black SUV he’d been rotating. “You know, you suck as an office assistant.” Zac dragged the back of his hand across his brow, slick grime stuck to his skin. “You’re not even wearing the bandage anymore. Now, you’re milking it.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m…faking it?” August gasped in mock offense.

  “Yes,” Rafe grumbled, and tossed a soiled, balled towel at his brother.

  August only flipped his middle finger, and snickered. “I was told a week, that gives me until tomorrow.”

  “Good, we’ll be sure to save all the fun for the morning then,” Zac insisted. “Now, go away and work.”

  “I’m on break. Besides, no one is in the office except Jo. I’ve been watching.”

  “What?” Zac coughed through the sucker-punch to his insides. “Jo’s inside? Why didn’t you say anything, man?”

  Rushing blood to his head had never happened from glancing at a woman—only when he’d hung upside down from the monkey bars as a kid. Now, the childhood head rush was back in full bloom once he glimpsed through the streaky windows separated the office from the shop. Jo kept her hands folded in front of her body, and she rocked on her heels a bit. Zac couldn’t stop the grin from forming—she seemed to be waiting for him.

  “So it’s true,” August said, his dark eyes shading like newly watered soil.

  “What’s true?” Zac asked, his eyes focused on the woman in the shop as he slipped from his dirty jumpsuit. Jo had seen him countless times coated in the sweat of the day, but now he couldn’t stop himself from attempting to look somewhat decent.

  “Lily and Ollie have been talking.”

  Zac stopped, his eyes locking on his friend. “Talking? What about? What did they say?”

  August closed the supply catalogue, and chuckled. “Wow. They were only speculating, but your face is telling me they aren’t far off. What did you do, Zac?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and shoved August as he stalked by. “Nothing. Now do something productive, or I’ll fire you.”

  August laughed loud enough it reverberated with the bass of the radio. “No you won’t.”

  Zac shook his head—it was true—but he wouldn’t give August the satisfaction of acknowledging his empty threat. Holding his breath until it burned in his lungs, Zac shoved through the door. Chilled air soothed his boiling skin, but from the cool ripple across his neck, face and arms he flushed at the depth of his sweatiness. Jo turned over her shoulder, her glimmering eyes sparkled like gemstones as a shy grin filled those lips. Who knew someone could dwell on such a small body part for so long, but Zac had thought of little else apart from when he’d get to taste them again.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he said, with an extra swipe to his forehead. Zac stepped close, but didn’t touch. His hands were filthy.

  The ridges of Jo’s cheeks pinked like cherry blossoms, and he embraced a new headrush when she curled the corner of her lip between her teeth. “I, uh…I broke into your house again to do laundry and I thought I’d come…say hello…I guess.”

  Zac smiled, and took a step closer—dirt and sweat seemed trivial right now. “I’m glad you did.”

  Jo seemed to hold her breath the same as him when their bodies crossed into personal space. She swallowed with effort, her eyes taking in his face, shoulders, and chest before returning to his own studious gaze.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered.

  He brushed his fingertips across the top of her hand and her arm seemed to flick toward him in response. Zac suspected his employees—friends—were watching, so the subtle clasp of their fingers remained hidden from the windows, but sent his pulse rampaging all the same. “I don’t have any complaints. I wanted to ask if you were busy tomorrow night…or tonight…or whenever.”

  “You seem nervous, Zachariah.”

  Heat not associated with the weather masked his face. “Maybe for the first time in a long time I am.”

  She took half a step closer, her smile sending the embers of desire to pulse into flames when he inhaled the smooth, citrus aroma of her hair. “I like it. But I actually have plans tomorrow night.”

  Zac nodded. Unexpected, but okay. Perhaps Jo had more of a social life in Honeyville than he realized. His throat dried like sandpaper when her fingers trailed along his arm, unashamed and intentional.

  “I have a party I’m going to. Someone forgot to mention he had a birthday this weekend. To be honest, I’m a little offended I wasn’t invited by him, and took an invite from his friends instead.”

  Zac laughed. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but Ollie can’t keep a secret about a party if her life depended on it. To be fair, I just found out yesterday. I’m sure it’s not something that interests you, a hot-shot form Boston and all, rummaging with us southern hicks.”

  She smacked his shoulder, and her face inched a little closer. Zac didn’t care at all if she kissed him, but he basked in the tension mounting between them as their faces hovered close, but too far in the same breath. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Fine, I was going to get you a gift, but now…”

  “Show up,” he rumbled, dipping his face toward hers. “Gift satisfied, Jo.”

  Her phone dinged, Jo jumped, her eyes dropping to her pocket. “Timer’s done,” she whispered. “I should go. There’s one more appointment at the clinic tonight. Um, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  She stammered as she backed away. Zac reluctantly watched her inch toward the door through a chuckle. “Jo, I don’t think I’m the only one who’s nervous.”

  When she smiled, Jo’s face ignited in a soft glow he’d never allowed himself to notice before now. “It feels good to be nervous again.”

  Like a lovesick teenager, Zac’s insides clamped, clenched, twisted all at once, and to the point he almost felt sick. It wasn’t a secret Zac had gone out with a lot of women, but he couldn’t remember this feeling. Everything seemed fresh, intoxicating, and new. The plunging through deep water, then bursting through the surface to soar feeling. He was in uncharted territory, and Zac didn’t have any desire to find his way back.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  She smiled once more before stepping outside into the muggy day. “You will, Zac.”

  Zac stood in the lobby of his shop for too long, because when a strong hand slapped the windows he nearly leapt from his skin. Rolling his eyes, Zac shook his head when August, Rafe and Andy made lewd movements behind the glass. He stomped toward the shop, and ripped open the door.

  “Did I hire men, or teenagers? Come on, let’s get this done, and get out of here.”

  Zac ignored his friends’ taunts and questions, and slipped beneath the SUV, refusing to let them see his mouth still loc
ked in the stupid, hopeful grin.

  Chapter 13

  The minute high school wrapped up, Jo had lost touch with most of her friends. Now at twenty-six she was strongly considering perhaps she’d never had close friends to begin with, because twittering, giggling, and primping in Dot’s beach house seemed like something she should have done throughout the teen years, not mid-twenties. She soaked it up like a sponge all the same.

  Dot’s family was wealthy, that much was obvious by the state of the beach house. Jo had traipsed through two levels of white and blue decor, floated across the wide wrap around porch, and dreamed of baking multiple batches of butterscotch cookies in the three ovens. The house wasn’t a handout. No, Dot rented it from her parents, insisting it was worth the price to avoid a long commute. Dot handled her work as publicist and onsite administrator for the clinic and non-profit foundations for her family with grace and smarts. Even if the house belonged to her parents, Jo had no doubt Dot would have the means for her own someday.

  If Jo had the money and not a slowly shrinking mountain of student debt she would give half her salary to live in a place like this. Staring dreamily out the massive sliding glass door in Dot’s room she watched the white-tipped waves roll in and out with low tide. In the distance she caught sight of the rounded, silvery curves of porpoises playing in the water. New England was magical in its own way, but Jo found she enjoyed the Charleston shore a bit more than Boston Harbor.

  “Here, try this on,” Dot interrupted her dreaming by tossing a yellow sun dress on the bed.

  Jo fingered the light fabric that fluttered like butterfly wings in the breeze. “What’s wrong with this?” She signaled to her shorts and white T-shirt.

  Dot snickered, pinning her red bangs off her forehead. “Nothing. You’re a babe, but I’m of the opinion you should be showing a bit more skin—call it extra frosting for Zac’s birthday cake.”

  “Nope, don’t deny it,” Jace added without a breath. She held up her finger, slipping on white, laced, wedged sandals before Jo could argue Dot’s comment. “We all saw the fluttery eyes at lunch. Something is up with you and Zac.”

  “What are fluttery eyes?”

  “You know, dreamy, thinking-of-a-man eyes.”

  “I did not have fluttery eyes.”

  “Come on,” Dot said tilting her head side to side as she spritzed silky vanilla and jasmine perfume on the nape of her neck. “We’ve known Zac longer than you, and reports from the shop are, when he got a visitor yesterday he couldn’t stop grinning like a dummy. That’s not typical for gruff old Zac.”

  “You mean,” Jo began, adding a layer of clear gloss over her lips in the mirror. “Rafe mentioned I stopped by the shop to Olive, who then called you.”

  Jace snapped her fingers. “You’re catching on. There are no secrets.”

  Jo sighed. “Fine, after Zac took me to Angel Oak we might have…kissed.”

  Dot’s shoulders danced, and Jace twirled her hair around her fingers as she flopped on her belly over the large queen bed.

  “I knew it,” Dot insisted, giving Jo a studious glance. “So, what’s your take on it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, do you like Zac?”

  Dot’s typically playful tone had shifted to something protective like a lioness guarding her cub. Jo nestled in a wicker chair by the door and crossed her leg, she tried to keep a neutral face, but when the words slipped out the smile followed. “I like Zac,” she admitted. “Something I thought would only happen when the world ended…did.”

  Dot’s tone perked up again, and Jace hugged a pillow, her pale eyes glimmering in the setting sun.

  “Good. We like you too, and personally Zac deserves a good one like you,” Dot finished, before spinning back toward the mirror to style her hair.

  “I’ve got to say,” Jo continued, letting the buttery sun dress settle in her hands as she slipped into the adjoining bathroom to change. “I’m surprised one of you never went out with Zac. Just friends? Would it be too weird?”

  “Uh-oh, Dot. She’s gauging if we’re going to make a move on her man,” Jace chuckled.

  Jo scoffed, and poked her head around the frame even though she was shirtless. “I am not. I’m curious, that’s all.”

  “I had a boyfriend when I met Zac,” Jace went on. “By the time that was over, we were too far into the friend zone. I like it there—doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s sexy as anything gets though. Don’t worry, he’s fully aware of my opinion on his pleasant face.”

  Dot snickered, and Jo flushed, she couldn’t say she disagreed.

  “And Dot,” Jace said, nodding toward the redhead, “she’s planning to join a convent I’ve decided. She’s sworn off men for life.”

  “Why?” Jo gaped. “What’s that about?”

  Dot’s smile faded the slightest bit when Jo sauntered out of the bathroom. Dot had good taste, the open back of the borrowed sundress added a sexiness to her mood that toiled in her stomach with thoughts of Zac Dawson.

  “The greatest heartbreak of the century, I’m afraid,” Dot whimpered. “Poor Jace—that was the night we met, wasn’t it?” Jace nodded, and Dot looked to the carpet for a few breaths. “I suppose that’s why we became such good friends—she met me at my lowest and still stuck around.”

  Jo laughed with the two women for a moment before snatching her purse from the bedside table. “So, what happened in this great heartbreak? Did he do what the creep from Boston did?”

  “Oh, I like how you’re playing our name games now,” Dot applauded. “I wish I could say what happened for sure. I was ready to wear the man’s ring, then the next day he was calling to tell me it was over. In his stupidly, sweet way, I might add. I don’t think he stepped out, but I don’t know. There was always something strange about the entire thing—he sounded angry with me—as angry as a sweetheart like Sawyer could get, I guess.

  “I kept asking him what happened, what changed like a desperate ninny, and all he said was I think you know, or this is for the best. I can’t say I agreed with him, but I’ve moved on. I’ve got my girls—including a new gal pal,” Dot nodded at Jo. “I’ve got my boys—even if they are married to my girls, I’ve got my work, tea, and the beach. What more do I need?”

  Jo smiled and fluffed Dot’s hair. When had intimate female relationships come so easy? She didn’t dwell too long on the idea and embraced the change while smiling in the mirror at Dot’s reflection. “Well, I don’t know this Sawyer, but if he’s going to let you go—screw him.”

  Dot laughed. “That’s what I keep telling myself too. Speaking of screwing, we have a birthday party to get to.”

  Jo choked on her own tongue. Everything burned in embarrassment down to the tips of her hair as she followed them from the house, stopping at the annoying chirp of her phone. The groan rumbled from her throat louder than intended when she saw the name.

  “What’s wrong?” Jace asked, halfway down the staircase to the main level.

  Jo held up her phone. “It’s Emmitt. This is the seventh call. I should probably get this over with—I can’t avoid him forever.”

  Jace and Dot took defensive stances, both arms folded over their chests like they were ready to tackle Emmitt through the phone, and Jo had to admit it was encouraging to have support.

  “Emmitt, I’m on my way out.”

  “You answered,” he snapped. How ballsy can he be to sound irritated? “I thought I was going to have to fly down there just to get you to talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you, I would think ignoring your phone calls would make that clear.”

  “Jo, we need to discuss things.”

  “Okay, what things? How you lied, how you slept with Greta after your girlfriend was gone for a total of two weeks, or how you’re a complete coward?”

  He sighed, and she could sense the eyeroll through the phone. “Jo, I’m sorry. I never intended for it to happen. It seemed like we were drifting, you were upsetting our plan, and
Greta listened. I slipped up.”

  “You aren’t honestly blaming me.”

  Dot cracked her knuckles like a full-on streetfighter in heels.

  “No,” he grumbled, heaving a deep breath until his voice softened. “No, I’m not blaming you, Jo. I don’t want to argue—I called to apologize, and to ask you if we could talk about this…really talk, when you get home. Please.”

  “Why, Emmitt? What’s the point?”

  He paused. Jo could hear his deep breaths filling the line. “Because,” he relented. “I care about you—about us. I love you, Jo.”

  The words once would crumble her resolution about Doctor Baron, but now they angered an unlocked fury inside. “Funny how you show love, Emmitt. I’ve got to go, it’s Zac’s birthday.”

  “Zac?” he snapped back to frustration. “The guy who started all this? You’re going to his birthday?”

  “Yep, I am.”

  “Jo, what are you doing?” His voice shadowed as if he could sense the changes in her heart and soul.

  Jo swallowed a thick gulp, grinning sadly at Dot and Jace. “I’m living, Emmitt. For the first time in a long time, I’m living. I’ve got to go.”

  Jo disconnected, and laughed when both Jace and Dot squealed and bounced on the stairs before they swallowed her in a tight, noisy, wonderful embrace.

  ***

  The house had filled with the people he cared about, but a few others he didn’t know, thanks to Jace, Will, and Andy. At least Andy’s friends didn’t creep around the single women like Andy continually tried.

  If Zac heard the guy spout the fallen angel pick-up line again, he’d puke. Zac scoffed and shook his head when Rafe finally took the clear plastic cup from Andy’s hands, and led him toward the back door to get some fresh air. Zac had only taken a few college classes online, but he imagined this would be what a campus party would feel like. Laughter, drinks, and music filled his house. Crowds were fine, but Zac would have been satisfied with his close friends—and Jo. Definitely Jo. He peered over his cup eyeing her across the dim room, laughing with Olive and Jace and a few women he hadn’t even seen come inside.