“Thanks.” Macy handed the customer his receipt and a small brown paper bag. “Just call if you need more of those drywall screws. I can always bring them to you after I close to save you another trip out.”
Once the man thanked her and left, Zach crossed to the counter and rested his forearms on the scratched, scarred wood surface that had been there from the start of the store.
“Saw you chatting with one of your favorite people.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at her smirk. “Funny.”
Macy rested her arms on the counter. “Apparently you played nice or you wouldn’t be in such a mood now.”
“I’m always in a mood.”
Her grin widened. “Yes, but now even your eyebrows are drawn in. You must really be pissed.” Macy patted his hands and looked him in the eyes. “I promise not to tease you anymore. Now, what can I get ya? I assume you’re still working on the Community Center. Or are you picking up something for your house?”
Zach pushed off the counter. “The Community Center. Should be done by next week.”
The city council had paid him a nice chunk to add a picturesque patio area that they could rent for receptions or other summer events. His job, to build a large gazebo with curved benches, outdoor seating, and a stone-wall perimeter, was nearly complete. Another reason he wasn’t telling the mayor and his cohorts where to shove their offer.
Between the mayor stealing Braxton’s fiancée a few years ago and Sophie dating one of the city council members, there was no way in hell Zach would willingly negotiate away a piece of property his sister loved. A piece of property she’d invested her life savings into.
“I’ll go find what I need,” he told her. “I’ll just yell if I need help.”
“Heard Liam was in town.” Macy smoothed her straight, black hair back and tucked it behind her ears. “Everything okay?”
Was anything ever okay when his oldest brother was mentioned? Not where Zach was concerned.
“Just wrapping up some legal matters from Chelsea’s estate.”
“She’s going to be missed. I know I already feel a void.” Her brows dipped as concern filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry you guys are going through this, Zach.”
Not wanting any sympathy, Zach shrugged, refusing to discuss such a personal topic in public. “We’ll be fine. Chelsea bought that old historic property on the edge of town, and we just have to figure out what to do with it.”
“And you three aren’t in agreement.”
Zach grunted. “You know us all too well.”
“You guys never change,” she told him with a sigh. “I figure at this point you never will.”
The bell chimed again and Macy greeted a customer who came in and headed toward the back where the pipe was stored.
“What do you want to do with it?” she asked, once the customer was out of earshot.
“Keep it,” Zach stated. “Chelsea wanted the house and I think we need to hang on to it.”
“What do the others say?”
“Liam wants to sell and be done. Braxton hasn’t said one way or another.”
Macy crossed her arms over her chest. “Must be a difficult position for Braxton.”
Zach nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “He wouldn’t say if this bothers him, but I know it does.”
“So what would you do if you kept it?” she asked.
“Still thinking on that one,” he replied, rocking back on his heels. “I better get my supplies. Be right back.”
She held up a hand and grinned. “I need to ask a favor before you go, if you have the time.”
Intrigued, he tilted his head. “What’s that?”
“Well, it’s more of a business proposition,” she corrected, then waved him away. “Go on and get your supplies. We can talk as I’m ringing you up.”
Nodding, he headed to the back bins holding various sizes of washers, bolts, screws, and nuts. As he sifted through the items he needed, Zach couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to convince Liam that selling wasn’t the right decision, at least not now.
Of all the rash decision making Zach had done in his life, for once he was going to think about this property before deciding anything. Sophie surely had to understand that. Or maybe her boyfriend had convinced her selling it to the council would be best. Zach had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that Sophie would go against Chelsea’s wishes. Sophie was well aware of how much Chelsea loved that house and the land.
More than once Chelsea had snuck over the property line, ignoring the NO TRESPASSING signs to go sit by the lake or wander around the grounds. She’d had a slight obsession with the historic place, and Zach couldn’t let go. Not yet.
Of course, Martin could have convinced Sophie that’s what Chelsea would’ve wanted. Who knows what went on in their relationship? Zach didn’t want to know, actually. Sophie had been raised so polished and pure, Zach had no doubt her parents loved that she dated a man with such upstanding social status. A man without a criminal record.
What parents wanted a convicted felon hanging around their daughter? What woman truly wanted a tarnished man in her personal life?
This whole line of thinking was ridiculous, so he didn’t even answer his own questions. Zach had no place in Sophie’s life. He’d had a narrow window to ease into her life and he’d blown it all to shit. Couldn’t fault her for realizing she deserved better.
Damn it, here he was trying to find some simple bolts for the new picnic tables, and his mind had circled back to Sophie again.
He needed to focus. Work came first, leaving no room for foolish, juvenile thoughts.
As he headed back to the counter, Macy was swiping a customer’s credit card and chatting about the unseasonal heat with it only being April. Once the man was gone, Zach set his items down on the counter.
Macy knew to put everything on his account. He paid it off monthly, but this way everything he purchased was on one itemized receipt for the month.
“So what was this favor and business proposition?” he asked as she slid his bolts into a small brown sack with the store logo on the front.
“When you built the Clevengers’ house, you had designed it too. Right?”
“Yes. They didn’t like anything they’d seen in books or online.” The bag crinkled as Zach gripped the top. “They liked portions of various ones, so I drew up the plans to their specifications.”
“Could I make an appointment with you to discuss some house plans?”
“I wasn’t aware you were thinking of building.”
“I don’t want to live above the store with my dad forever, no matter how state-of-the-art everything is up in that apartment.” She shrugged and smoothed her hair behind her ears. “I’m in no rush, but I’d like to get the ball rolling when you have time.”
When he had time? That would never happen, but for a friend he would certainly make time.
“Why don’t I come by here one evening around closing? We can discuss your ideas then.”
A wide smile lit up her face. “That would be great. I know you’re busy with so many other things, so don’t feel pressured to rush this. Like I said, I’m in no hurry. I’ve lived upstairs with Dad my whole life. A few more years won’t matter.”
Stepping back from the counter, Zach gripped his sack and headed for the door. “I’ll call you and we can figure out what day works best.”
“Thanks, Zach.”
He stepped out into the bright midday sun and headed down the wide sidewalk toward his old beat-up work truck. As much as certain people in the town grated on his nerves, Zach supposed he’d be miserable anywhere he lived. Why not live in an area that thrived when so many others were tanking? All of the local shops were bustling at any given time of the day. Cafés, boutiques, downtown loft apartments; Haven had so much to offer.
People took pride in their stores, their homes. All the storefronts still had that vintage feel with the wide windows and displays, bright-colored siding, and li
ttle concrete stoops with oversized pots of flowers provided by the city and kept up by the garden club.
Zach jerked the handle on his truck and slid in behind the wheel, pulling his creaky door shut with a slam. Braxton still lived in Haven, but Liam had moved to Savannah. Zach had nowhere else to go. This was it for him. The Monroes had given him roots, something no one else had ever done, and in all honesty, he wouldn’t have a clue where to go.
Getting all nostalgic was absurd. He fired up the engine and eased out onto the two-lane street, watching for pedestrians. Since Chelsea had passed, he kept running through those deep meanings of life. What was his purpose? Was he meant to just go through the motions of day-to-day living, serving other people while this anger and guilt raged inside of him? Would he ever find peace with himself?
Shit. He cranked up his radio on his favorite heavy metal station and turned onto Vine Street. He had to get his head on straight or he’d drive himself nuts. He planned on finishing his workday so he could head over to Chelsea’s old apartment. The landlord had told them to take their time getting Chelsea’s things out, but apparently now he had new tenants who were hoping to move in by the end of the month. Now Zach had to fully face that she was gone. Sorting through her things was going to be a difficult task, and he wasn’t going to ask Liam or Braxton to help. The last thing he needed was for either of his brothers to see him break down.
Because, of all four siblings, Zach had been closest to Chelsea. She always knew what to say, when to say it. She didn’t let him mope or start to slip into self-pity over his past. She’d plunk right down on the window seat in his room and lay it out there. She’d been so wise as a teen, when she’d tell him the greatest days of his life were happening right now. The Monroes were the parents she’d always dreamed of, and if he was going to keep reflecting back on his past, he was stealing the joy from now.
Damn, she’d been right. And after their heart-to-heart talk, which always left him feeling stupid and ungrateful, she would either whip up a batch of cookies or ask if he wanted to head out on the dirt bikes. You just never knew what her mind would think up for fun. Chelsea was certainly not a predictable woman. But she was loyal and she’d loved with her whole heart.
There was no doubt in Zach’s mind he’d not be able to get through her apartment without losing it. And with his unstable emotions now, he preferred not to have an audience.
He’d only broken down three times in his life: when each of his parents had passed, and when he turned Sophie away that first time she came to visit him in jail.
With Chelsea gone he was due for another, and he just preferred to be alone . . . like always.
* * *
Filtering through the clothes in Chelsea’s closet was both painful and amusing. Sophie slid the hangers one after another across the bar, remembering different events with nearly each piece. Like the black halter dress Chelsea had deemed sexy and sure to get her a man. Too bad that when Chelsea set her eyes on the guy lounging at the bar, she’d made her way to him and fallen flat on her face, taking a waiter and a tray of drinks down with her. By the time she’d gotten to her feet, the man was gone and Sophie had nearly doubled over with belly-cramping laughter.
Sophie slid her hand over the shoulder of the purple sweater that she’d bought for Chelsea’s last birthday. Seemed so silly now to look at the knitted garment. Sophie knew how much her friend loved purple and had bought the cardigan without hesitation. Had Sophie only known that was going to be Chelsea’s last birthday, she would’ve bought something a hell of a lot more special than a useless, boring sweater.
She carefully slid the sweater from the hanger and folded it on the bed, next to some photos of them as teens and adults, as well as a pencil sketch of the Eiffel Tower Chelsea had framed and hung in her bedroom.
Sophie had been coming here on occasion since Chelsea’s death to feel closer to her late friend. She and Chelsea had keys to each other’s places because they often shared clothes. Not to mention the fact Chelsea had locked herself out multiple times. On the third time, she’d gotten Sophie a key since Sophie lived closer than Chelsea’s brothers.
Today was the first day Sophie opted to start collecting minute items that represented the final thread linking their friendship. She’d make sure Braxton and Liam were okay with the items she wanted to take. If Zach wanted to weigh in, that was fine too, but she wasn’t seeking him out for permission.
Refusing to dive back into a Zach memory, Sophie turned back to the closet. There were shoes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, but it was the stack of black binders nestled in the corner that caught her attention.
A part of Sophie felt like an intruder going through all of Chelsea’s things. The other part knew Chelsea wouldn’t mind one bit. The woman had been so carefree, letting nothing in life really disturb her. Besides, the two were as close as sisters and shared everything. Chelsea would want Sophie to have some things to remember her by.
Shifting the assortment of sneakers, boots, and flip-flops aside, Sophie pulled the binders from the closet. She’d just walked into the main room and set the thick folders on the dining table when keys jingled against the apartment door.
Startled, she cautiously moved toward the couch, where she’d put her purse, which contained pepper spray. Her eyes remained fixed on the knob, which she’d locked, but now it jiggled as an unknown tried to get in.
Did someone know this apartment sat empty and was coming to steal? More than likely she’d just watched too many criminal shows and it was just the landlord or maintenance . . . she had heard keys clanging, after all.
The door opened and the second Sophie saw a thick forearm leading to a wide shoulder, she dove for her purse. Unfortunately, she tripped when her hip gave out on her, and she fell to the floor behind the couch.
“What the hell?”
The familiar male voice only added to her humiliation. The man who let himself in wasn’t the landlord, the maintenance man, or even a would-be burglar. Sophie would’ve rather faced any of those than the man who rounded the sofa and now stared down at her as she struggled to her feet.
“Sophie.” He looked worried as his brows drew in. As he crouched down to her, his eyes raked over her body. “Let me help you.”
Pushing off the plush carpet, Sophie refused to meet his eyes or even think of the concern she’d seen flash through them. “I’m fine.”
“You fell.”
“I tripped.” Coming to her feet, she placed a hand on the back of the couch until she was steady. The familiar twinge in her hip had escalated to full-on piercing pain, and she needed to remain still until it subsided. “What are you doing here?”
The muscle in his jaw clenched as he came to his full height, towering over her and making her feel so small. He fisted his hands on his narrow hips and said nothing. The way he just stared at her did absolutely nothing to lessen her humiliation. Falling was one thing, but doing so because of an injury that continued to hinder her life at the most inopportune times was degrading.
Knowing Zach had never forgiven himself for her handicap still sent an ache through her that she feared would never go away. Sophie actually hurt for him.
“Zach?”
Dark eyes darted to hers, to her legs, then back up. “You didn’t hurt yourself when you tripped, did you?”
“Um . . . no.” She’d never admit her pain, especially to him. “I trip all the time.”
The muscle ticked even more. “Because of . . .” He trailed off, but pointed to her leg as if he couldn’t even say the word “limp.”
As embarrassing as this was to make him uncomfortable because of her injury, she shook her head. “No. I just didn’t know who was coming in and I was trying to get to the pepper spray in my purse.”
A portion of the truth—that was all he was getting from her.
Zach rubbed his hand across his bearded jaw, and the bristling sound sent shivers through her. She didn’t want shivers, had no room in her life for shivers. At
least not from this man.
Still, that sound couldn’t help but conjure up thoughts as to how the coarse hair would feel against her skin. Unfortunately, she’d never know.
She had to admit Zach Monroe’s wide shoulders, scruffy jawline, and menacing, icy eyes were quite mesmerizing. Still, she wasn’t looking for a man; she already had one.
Besides, she couldn’t fully get over the way Zach had treated her over the past decade. Being dismissed, ignored, or barely given the time of day was damn hurtful, even if he was using it as a defense mechanism.
Still, her body responded to the man each and every time he was near . . . each response stronger than the last. Ignoring that invisible pull was the only option. She had a man in her life, a man she was supposed to meet for dinner very soon.
Sophie was only feeling this thread of attraction for Zach for the same reasons she had as a teen: Zach Monroe was reckless, mysterious in his quiet ways, and sexy as hell. Not boyfriend or relationship material for any woman in her right mind who didn’t want to have her heart broken.
But the way he’d looked at her, had instantly gone on alert at the sight of her on the floor. Degrading as the moment was, that was the first honest, raw emotion she’d seen from the man in years.
“You know, you can talk about my condition,” she told him, needing him to realize that bringing it out in the open didn’t make her upset. “I’m used to it. I rarely notice it, actually.”
More lies. Oftentimes after working long hours and showing homes, going up and down flights of stairs, the ache from all the limping got to her, and her other leg actually started hurting from taking up the slack from the injured one. But that was rare. Most of the time there was just an annoying ache she could live with.
“I don’t want to discuss that. I just wanted to know if you were hurt from falling just now.”
Wrapped in You Page 3