Her lips parted, and her hand stilled against his face. Recognition sparked in her eyes, a hint that she realised he meant more than slipping on the ice. She nodded slowly.
In case she hadn’t guessed right, he’d better make it clear.
“It’s not the procedure, Zoe.” He covered her hand with his. “You can’t keep using that as an excuse. It’s you.”
Chapter 15
The seriousness in Gabe's eyes shook Zoe core deep. Scared by the intensity, she snatched her hand away from his face, and scrambled to her feet.
“We need to get moving, or we'll be late for our meeting. And if you lie there any longer, your coat will get all wet.”
They'd known each other four days. To imply he was falling for her meant nothing. Hadn’t Brad told her that?
Still, she wanted to believe it was possible, that he could truly feel for her, that she could truly feel for him.
That it wasn’t just the experiment.
But how could she trust what she felt? How could she trust he meant what he said? He was grieving a terrible loss. That made him vulnerable. Vulnerable enough to latch onto any girl he spent time with. His feelings were fuelled by loneliness and propinquity, on top of the procedure.
One of them had to be sensible, and it had better be her.
She brushed herself down, mentally brushing off her feelings for Gabe. Just hormones and fantasy, that's all.
He stood, craned his neck to look at his back, and laughed. “You're right, I'm wet.”
“It's not far.” She forced herself ignore her urge to smile back, and started walking.
This time, she made sure to keep a careful space between them, so he wouldn't try to take her arm again. She'd been a fool, betraying herself, touching his face like that. As if kissing him last night wasn’t bad enough, then her crazy accusation this morning.
All she could do was keep her distance.
The way her heart bounded when a sideways glance met his gaze suggested that wouldn't be too easy. At least at the meeting they'd have other people around. Safety in numbers.
They crossed Oxford Street, battling through the crowds of shoppers, and turned off into the quieter side streets.
“Here it is,” she said, as they approached Pettett and Mayfield’s fine old Victorian building. “The refined maiden aunt of London department stores.”
“Nice,” Gabe said, craning his neck as he looked appreciatively.
“It is now,” she said. “Hard to imagine seeing all the shoppers and those gorgeous window displays that it was on the verge of closing down when Nick got involved as celebrity Santa.”
She led him to the staff entrance, and showed him where to sign in. Cara arrived almost immediately, saving her coming up with more meaningless small talk while they waited.
“Hi Cara,” she said. “This is Gabe Ross, filling in for the Professor I work with. Gabe, this is Cara. Assistant Deputy Manager here, and also my future sister-in-law.”
Gabe smiled, holding out a hand.
Zoe didn't miss the speculative gleam in Cara's eyes. No doubt Tiff would be even worse. Nothing like being in love to make people want to matchmake.
“Nice to meet you, Gabe.” Cara led them downstairs to the staff cafeteria they used for their meetings. “Everyone else is already here.”
Zoe quickly rattled off introductions around the table. “Nick, my brother, a volunteer manager at the Blue Door homeless shelter. My sister Tiffany, who set up the back to work project, and Mac, who works with her. Josie is a participant, as are Darren, Gita, and Frank. Anita, Stefan, Jaz, and Beth are the staff mentors working with the project.”
She looked around at the cafeteria, puzzled. “The place looks different. Brighter. New paint job?”
Josie piped up. “It’s new daylight toned light bulbs. We found a box of them in the warehouse. Cara said we could use them, I talked Doris into agreeing, and Darren did a great job putting them in.”
Zoe eyed the younger girl, concern tightening her chest.
The girl’s proudly glowing glance at Darren and darkened cheeks when she spoke of him suggested there was something growing between them. Not to mention, she was clearly over inflating Darren’s ability, seeing how impressed she was by him changing a few light bulbs.
Zoe prayed that Josie would recover before making any life-changing mistakes in that rosy glow of limerence. The girl had too much potential to throw away, imagining she was in love.
She prayed the same for herself, too. She needed to get over what she felt for Gabe, fast.
Gabe smiled around the table, and shook everyone’s hands. “Thank you for letting me join you today. I’m glad to have the chance to meet you all and observe what you're doing here.”
“Get yourself coffee, then we’ll start,” Cara said.
Zoe took Gabe over to the counter. “Coffee?” she asked him.
He nodded.
“Two coffees, please,” she asked the dour middle-aged woman behind the counter.
Then a totally illogical thought hit her. All those couples around the table. Beth, getting married later in the year. Tiff and Mac, not engaged yet but headed that way. Cara and Nick, planning a June wedding. Josie had clearly fallen for Darren, and she’d noticed the way Stefan looked at Gita, too.
Tiff had once joked there must be something in the water here, to make so many people fall in love.
This was even more irrational than blaming Gabe for the questionnaires had been, but why take any chances she didn’t have to?
“Sorry, Doris, please make that one coffee and a mineral water.”
Zoe picked up the green plastic bottle Doris plonked down and weighed it in her hand. She’d been so serious, for so long.
Why not confess the truth. She envied Tiff and Nick their togetherness with Mac and Cara. And Beth glowed with happiness, despite having to delay the Easter wedding she’d wanted.
In comparison, she felt as heavy and sullen as poor Doris. Would letting herself fall in love with Gabe be so bad? Why shouldn’t she have some of that happiness too?
And that was the danger. The seductiveness of it all. It was addictive, like a drug. Gabe could change his mind, as easily as Brad had, leaving her empty and aching all over again.
Steeling herself against him, she walked away to sit at the table.
She had to be sensible. She didn't want to risk falling in love. Couldn’t risk falling in love. Not when all her research showed how wrong it was, how untrustworthy it was.
Today she only half paid attention as the group talked about future plans for the project. Gabe’s presence distracted her.
All the more reason to get over feeling she was in love with him, as fast as she could.
She didn’t need distractions. She needed to work.
Once the meeting was over, she started her interviews, in a tiny private office off the kitchen, just big enough for a desk and two chairs. They didn’t take long. Simple questionnaires looking at job satisfaction, plus attitudes toward work and the project overall.
After she’d interviewed Josie, the girl mentioned Darren.
Impulsively, Zoe leaned forward and touched the girl’s hand. She knew she shouldn’t say anything. But she couldn’t bear to see Josie get her heart broken. Darren wasn’t good enough for her. And his eyes lingered appreciatively on other girls, not just Josie. She deserved so much better.
“Please think carefully before believing you’re in love makes you do anything you’ll regret. The feeling can be addictive as a drug. But it isn't always trustworthy. We can feel it for people who might not be good for us.”
Josie pulled her hand away, and her face blanked. “We’re done now, aren’t we?”
Zoe nodded, and the younger girl hurried off.
Maybe she’d think about it. Even though she had no right to offer advice, Zoe couldn’t regret having tried. Josie could do so much with her life if she didn’t ruin it by falling in love.
The other interviews were quickly
done. She stood sorting her papers ready to leave when Tiffany walked in, shutting the door behind her and standing with her back against it. With her lips compressed, and shaking her head, she looked angrier than Zoe had ever seen her.
“What do you think you’re doing, telling Josie that being is love is as bad as using drugs? She couldn’t believe you said that to her.”
Hurt and annoyance heated Zoe, washing away and feeling that she shouldn’t have spoken. “I was trying to help Josie. I have a duty. I wouldn’t stand near a cliff letting people walk right by me and off the edge. This is the same.”
“You had no business talking to her like that. You’re here to do the research we agreed on, not dish out your personal theories. I suppose you think I’m walking off the edge of a cliff, too?” Her twin shook her head, lips pursed, eyes stormy.
Zoe tensed. She didn’t want to answer that last question. Saying what she believed would hurt Tiff. She looked away, and busied her hands sorting her papers, then took a slow deep breath, forcing her voice to stay steady. “You can’t tell me you think Darren is any good for her, a codeine addict discharged from the army for drinking.”
Tiff planted her hands on her hips and gave a laser beam glare. “Darren’s trying to get off codeine, with help from Mac and his doctor. And I care about Josie enough to make sure she doesn’t make any serious mistakes.”
“Josie is already making a serious mistake, believing those feelings are real.” Zoe shook her head as temper flared. “I do think you’re walking off the cliff, yes. Everyone’s addicted to something. Mac and Darren pop their pills. For the rest of you, being in love is the drug.”
Fists clenched, Tiff shook them in front of her, as if she wanted to punch Zoe. “Mac’s faced his issue with painkillers, and is off them now. He’s not a coward like you are.” Her voice trembled. “You’re addicted too. Addicted to being right and staying safe. You’ve closed your heart to love, too scared to take a risk. And worse, you try to stop anyone else from falling in love, because it scares you.”
Zoe rushed to defend herself. “That’s not true. I’m a researcher, I have evidence— ”
Tiff interrupted her. “Grow up, Zoe. Brad was six years ago. Adrian was four. Everyone gets hurt sometime. But most of us don’t make it a personal anti-love vendetta.”
Hot tears flooded Zoe’s eyes at her sister’s wounding accusations. She picked up her papers and clutched them to her chest. She was the mature, sensible one. Tiff was the one who needed to grow up, not her. “I’ve seen you fall in and out of love a dozen times. What makes you think this time is any different?”
“It’s different.” Tiff’s rigid shoulders relaxed, and her angry eyes softened. She raised her head with the hint of a smile. “This is important, Zoe, so please hear me. Mac and I have decided to commit to each other, that’s what makes it different. Nick told me something he realised after he met Cara. That love is so much more than just the feelings. It’s all in the commitment. That’s the difference between falling in love and loving someone. Every day, you commit yourself to loving them, all over again. I hope and pray that you’ll learn that some day, too.”
Her smile held something that looked a lot like pity.
Zoe held her papers tighter, pressing on the pain in the centre of her chest. She blinked hard. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was the strong twin.
Wasn’t she?
“But how do you know? How can you be sure you can trust him?” Her voice sounded hoarse, as if something inside her was broken, and the words burned her throat.
“You choose a good man. You pray about it. You ask God for guidance. But somewhere in there, you have to take a leap of faith, and decide to trust. You know that verse I love, the one about dwelling on what is pure and lovely, and seeing what is fine and good in others?”
Zoe nodded.
“God wants us to embrace what is good in life, including love. But it feels like you’re doing the reverse. Looking for what is wrong in people, looking for the danger, the thing to pull back from. Please think about it.” Tiff leaned over and gave her a quick hug.
Zoe couldn’t respond, couldn’t take comfort in the hug. She felt numb, empty, hollow all the way through.
As Tiff opened the door and left, Zoe collapsed into the chair. The interview forms dropped into her lap, and her hands rose to cover her face.
If Tiff was right, everything she’d based her life and work on since getting that break-up email from Brad six years before, had been a huge mistake.
The idea was too horrible to think about.
Chapter 16
Gabe fidgeted as he waited for Zoe to emerge from the room she’d used for the interviews. Something was going on. Tiffany had spoken to Josie, the young girl from the shelter, then stormed into the room.
Five minutes later, Tiff came out without Zoe, all smiles. But he couldn’t shake his concern. There was an issue.
When Zoe finally emerged she carried a folder of papers clutched in front of her, in her trademark defensive posture. Despite her pinned-on smile, traces of tears glimmered in her eyes. “All done, I'm good to go.”
Her voice sounded suspiciously cheery.
He glanced from sister to sister.
Something was wrong. Tiffany had been furious when she went into that room. He couldn’t make Zoe tell him, but he couldn’t help wondering what was going on with her, and caring whether she’d been hurt. Today he'd seen deeper glimpses of the real woman she hid.
Soft, wounded, and vulnerable, blaming the social constructs of romance for her break-up, because that was less painful than blaming herself. But deep inside, she did blame herself. She feared she wasn’t good enough for love.
He hated the thought of that.
Tiffany held out a hand to him and smiled widely, perhaps a little too widely. “I'm really pleased to have met you, Gabe. I hope you'll visit the shelter, too. Then you'd see the whole picture of what we're doing. And we could always use another volunteer. You and Zoe both.”
Her wink suggested that somehow she'd guessed there was something between him and Zoe.
All these undercurrents.
Zoe acted fine, but her smile remained rigid and fixed as they headed for the door.
The most he could do was pray for her, and watch for any opportunity to help.
She refused the support of his arm when they got outside, though ice and snow still patched the sidewalk.
“I'm fine. I won't fall over again.” Her chirpiness still rang false.
He smiled, determined not to push her to tell him what was wrong. Zoe needed to learn to trust him enough to open up to him.
Lifting a hand to the back of his head, he grimaced as he touched the large tender lump. “Please don't. I might not be able to cushion your fall next time.”
Instantly, her barriers dropped. She grabbed his arm, and her forehead crinkled as she ran her fingers over the back of his head.
He winced as she reached the sore spot.
“Are you hurt? Concussion? That can be serious. We need to get you checked out. Maybe when we go to the hospital for Patrick, you could see a doctor.”
So she did care. That made him smile.
“I'm okay. It's only a bump. I didn't lose consciousness.”
“Please be careful. Someone I worked with bumped her head, and ended up in hospital the next day having surgery for a brain haemorrhage.”
“You’re so reassuring, Zoe.” He rested his hand over hers, where it clung to his arm. “Truly, it is just a bump. I don’t need to see a doctor.”
“Well, can I ask someone in the office? Sarah used to be a nurse, she'll know what to do.”
Something about the way she fussed reminded him of his mom. It was nice to feel cared for again. It was extra nice to feel that Zoe cared.
“I guess my ‘Trust me, I’m a doctor,’ line won’t work with you?”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “A doctorate in educational psychology doesn’t exactly make you a brain
surgeon.”
He grinned, thanking God she’d let go of her reserve. “Okay, you can ask Sarah. But I won't do anything to stop me getting Patrick home this evening.”
She peeped up at him, almost shy. The effect was unexpectedly delightful. “You liked Patrick, didn't you?”
“I did. He's hard not to like.”
“I think of all the professors I’ve had, he’s my favourite.” As if their shared liking for the man made all the difference, her hand remained on his arm as they walked back to the university.
A couple of times he saw her hesitate on the edge of pulling down the shutters, running back behind her defences.
Each time, she’d stopped herself. Something warm and companionable flowed between them. They chatted about Patrick. About must-see places to visit in Britain. About books they'd read and movies they'd seen. Her antagonism seemed to have faded.
It didn’t feel right to spoil the moment by asking what happened with her sister.
Zoe looked determined to keep things light and friendly. But with her guard down, it looked as if she was being the woman God created her to be.
Her cold, distant researcher act was just that, an act.
Maybe one day she’d figure out there was no reason she couldn’t be sweet and open and friendly, and a serious researcher too.
At the university, he hurried to their office, while she stopped to talk to Sarah, the department secretary. He didn’t miss Sarah’s speculative stare when he returned with his trolley bag. Like any big organisation, the university ran on gossip and rumour.
“We’re going to see Professor Fowler and take him home from the hospital,” he said, feeling the need to explain, and stop her jumping to the wrong conclusion.
Zoe threw him an assessing glance, but said nothing until they were outside.
“She said you don’t necessarily need to see a doctor now. They wouldn’t do a brain scan or anything unless you had symptoms. But someone needs to stay with you all night and wake you up to make sure you can talk normally. The danger time is when you go to sleep. You can lapse into a coma without anyone realising until it’s too late. ” Her serious tone told him she wasn’t joking.
Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4) Page 11