Imperfect Heart

by Tarina Deaton

  Her goal was in sight. All she needed to do was follow the path she’d laid out to reach it.

  A small, yellow table caught her eye. Moving the basket of tchotchkes from the top, she knelt down next to it. The edges were chipped, revealing several layers of paint. It needed to be stripped and refinished, but it was well-made and would fit nicely between the two leather seats she’d found last month before she’d left Arizona.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  Zoe stood and found an older woman next to her.

  “How much do you want for the table?”

  “It’s a nice piece of furniture,” the woman said.

  Hmm… She was either getting ready to try to swindle Zoe or she was hoping for a good haggle. Either way, she had no idea what she was getting into. Zoe’s mother had once made a carpet vendor in Izmir cry and she was her mother’s daughter.

  Riding a euphoric high from getting a good price for the table, she found Gabby in a stall full of tourist trinkets and t-shirts.

  “Can’t you find these in Charlotte?” she asked.

  “These say Haven Springs on them. The only ones I can find in Charlotte say Charlotte on them.”

  Zoe’s stomach rumbled. They’d been wandering the outdoor flea market for a while and she was hungry.

  “Are you ready to eat? I told Elba we’d have lunch at the cafe.”

  “Shoot! What time is it? I told Alex I’d be home around five.” Forgetting she was holding her almost empty frappuccino cup, Gabby tilted her hand to look at her watch.

  “Don’t—!”

  “Ahh!”

  She righted the cup, dribbling a light brown stream of liquid across a half a dozen or more stacks of t-shirts.

  Zoe stared, her mouth agape.

  “Meu Deus. O que devo fazer?”

  “Find—”

  Gabby shoved the cup at Zoe and rushed out of the stall, not bothering to look back.

  Zoe stared at her retreating back. “Are you serious?”

  She was going to kill Gabby. She didn’t need to worry about getting home to her husband and three boys because her body was going to be buried in a shallow grave somewhere along the highway.

  A throat cleared behind her. “Is she coming back?” The deep timbre sent shivers down her spine.

  She’d only heard it a few times, but she recognized Tim’s voice. His was the only one that had ever caused that kind of reaction. Pressing her lips together, she turned slowly to face him. Or his chest since she barely reached his shoulders. It was a nice chest too, snuggly wrapped in a gray Carolina Panthers t-shirt. She tilted her head up and took a step back to be able to see more of him.

  Her lady bits swooned and she had a sudden urge to fan herself and say things like “fiddle-dee-dee.”

  Maybe it was being back in the south, but there was something about a guy in a beat-up ball cap that did it for her. It framed his face, accentuating the squareness of his jaw. His eyes were shadowed under the bill, but she remembered their color and how bright they’d seemed surrounded by dark lashes.

  “Well?”

  “What?”

  He pointed in the direction her sister had run. “Is she coming back to pay for all this?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, remembering the coffee that had been drizzled over the shirts. Her shoulders sagged.

  “Highly unlikely. If I know Gabby, she’s waiting around the corner to say how sorry she is I got caught.”

  “Gabby, your sister?”

  She tried not to stare as he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his well-worn jeans.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Oh my God! My mom is going to kill me!” A teenager rushed over to them and frantically picked up the stained merchandise. “What am I going to do?”

  Zoe rested a hand on the girl’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I had anything left in my cup and I tipped it over. I’ll pay for all the shirts.”

  “Really?” the girl asked with tears in her eyes.

  “Of course. It’s my fault. And I know how mothers can be, believe me.”

  “Thank you. She’d seriously ground me until I graduate if I told her all these shirts were ruined.”

  They gathered up the shirts and Zoe followed her to the corner where the register sat.

  “Do you like working in the market?” she asked.

  “Not really. It’s hot during the summer and there isn’t a lot of traffic in the off-season, but I have time to study between customers.”

  “What are you studying?”

  “AP chemistry right now.” She bagged the shirts and lowered her gaze. “There’s eleven shirts. You can get six for the price of five, so if you get one more…” She shrugged her shoulder.

  Zoe smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “Beth.”

  “I’ll grab another shirt.”

  Tim waited near the scene of the crime. “You’re covering for your sister.”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Call your sister and tell her to come back and pay for them?”

  “Oh, she’ll pay me back.” She picked up a bright pink tank top with “Carolina Girl” in white letters. “I know all her secrets.”

  She finished paying and walked over to where Tim waited, leaning against the side of a building. “Want a souvenir shirt?”

  He grinned at her. “Got any that say ‘southern boys do it better’?”

  Nossa Senhora. He had a dimple. Not a cute little girl dimple, more like a Tom Selleck dimple that divided his left cheek.

  Her entire lower body clenched. Did they do it better? Stop! He has a girlfriend. A tall, gorgeous girlfriend.

  He didn’t wait for her answer…or provide one of his own. “Going to get your sister?”

  “Yes. We’re supposed to go to my friend’s cafe for lunch. Gabby’s paying.”

  Damn it, he smiled again.

  “I’m heading that way.” He tilted his head the same direction she was headed.

  “That’s the way I’m going as well.”

  He held out an arm, indicating she should lead the way.

  “Did you get, uh…unpacked?” He cleared his throat.

  “The boxes are unpacked. I still need to put some stuff away.”

  “Hmm.” He stepped behind her as they passed a family pushing a stroller, using his hand on her lower back to steer her through the crowd.

  The gentle pressure of his fingers at the base of her spine sent tingles racing up to the fine hairs at the base of her neck and she barely repressed the shiver they caused.

  Chapter 8

  Tim took the opportunity of the narrow sidewalk and large family to place his hand on Zoe’s lower back. A small shiver raced down her back and goosebumps rose on the back of her neck. From his touch? Could she be as affected by him as he was by her? It had taken all his willpower not to pull on the thick curl that had escaped the pile of hair on top of her head and he’d only managed by shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  She’d been really nice to the girl manning the booth and he didn’t think it had anything to do with him standing there. He hadn’t given her a lot of time to react between when her sister dribbled coffee on the t-shirts and when he’d approached, but he had a feeling she would have done the right thing regardless.

  “Does your sister always leave you holding the bag? Or the cup, in this case?”

  “I’ve taken the blame for her on more than occasion. I always got off light because I’m the baby of the family.”

  “Huh.”

  She turned caramel colored eyes up to him. “What ‘huh?’”

  “I have a younger sister. She’s the baby. Now that I think of it, she got away with a lot more than my brother and I did.”

  “Did you blame her for things you did?”

  He chuckled. “There was no way my parents would have believed Shannon did the things we did.”

  She flashed him a smile. It felt like a punch in t
he gut. He had a suspicion he would do just about anything to make her smile like that again.

  “Gabriella.” A hard tone entered her voice.

  The sisters were of similar height and build, but Gabriella’s face was fuller and her hair wasn’t as curly.

  “Desculpa, caro.”

  Zoe removed the clean pink shirt and held the bag out to Gabriella. “You owe me fifty dollars.”

  Her sister responded in Portuguese. His gaze jumped between the two women as they argued. His two-years of high school Spanish in no way equipped him to keep up with, much less understand, their conversation.

  “Gabriella?” he asked.

  The sisters stopped arguing and Gabriella finally took notice of him. She looked him up and down, then pointed at him. “Quem e?”

  Zoe sighed. “Tim, this is my sister Gabriella. Gabby, this is Tim. The neighbor.”

  Gabby held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Neighbor Tim.”

  The way she rolled her r made it sound like she purred when she spoke. Hell, she might have.

  “You too,” he said.

  Gabby spoke to Zoe in Portuguese while she continued to look at him.

  Fifteen years on the police force had taught him there were usually only a few of reasons for people to not speak English—they didn’t know it, weren’t comfortable speaking it, or they were talking about a person but didn’t want that person to know what they were saying.

  Both Zoe and her sister spoke English with almost no trace of an accent, so… “Are you talking about me?”

  Zoe blushed and Gabby smirked.

  “I was saying—”

  “How very sorry she was for being such a horrible and irresponsible sister and of course she will not only pay me back, but buy me lunch as well,” Zoe said.

  “That’s not—”

  “Isn’t that right, Gabriella?” Zoe spoke through clenched teeth and glared at his sister.

  She glared back before batting her eyes at Tim. “Zoe was explaining that you saw the accident with the t-shirts. I panicked. I would have returned and paid for the shirts, but I saw Zoe had already taken care of it.”

  Not knowing either sister well enough to know if that was true, he nodded.

  “We should go,” Zoe said. “I said we’d be there at twelve-thirty.”

  “We’re meeting a friend for lunch,” Gabby said. “Would you like to join us?”

  “I’d love to, but I’m meeting my brother and his fiancée.”

  “That’s too bad,” Gabby said.

  “Some other time.” He looked at Zoe. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again, being neighbors and all.”

  Zoe licked her lips, causing more than a few erotic thoughts to flood his brain. He adjusted his ball cap, then shoved his hands in his pockets. Jase and Bree were probably waiting for him but he wanted to linger, to spend even a few more minutes next to Zoe, but it was starting to get awkward.

  “See you around.”

  “Bye,” they both said.

  The switched back to Portuguese as he walked away and he grinned, fighting the urge to look back over his shoulder. They were definitely talking about him. Maybe they were checking out his butt.

  A small bell over the door jangled as he pushed into the small restaurant Bree said she wanted to try. Dozens of different kinds of pastries filled the display case to his left, calling out to his sweet tooth, eat me. Whatever kind of food they served here, he was saving room for dessert. Hell, he might have only dessert. And one to go.

  A young girl walked around the counter, holding a long menu folder. “Welcome to the Cafe. Will you be dining alone or will others be joining you this afternoon?”

  Tim stared down at her. She was very articulate for someone so young. He took in her long blond hair, gathered in a braid that hung over her shoulder and her bright blue eyes.

  “How old are you?”

  Her weary sigh and barely contained eye roll told him it wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that question.

  “I’m thirteen. I only work six hours a week. My mom owns the Cafe and I’m trying to earn tips to help pay for a school trip to New York.”

  She’d definitely recited that more than a few times. Over her head, he spotted Jase exiting a short hall at the back of the dining area.

  Tim pointed in that direction. “The rest of my party is already here.”

  She turned to follow his gestured and then flashed a smile. “Perfect. I was getting their waters ready. I’ll be right over to take drink orders.”

  Spinning so quickly he had to dodge the whip-like action of her braid, she headed back behind the counter next to the pastry display. He wove through the dozen or so tables occupied with couples and small groups in various stages of their meals to the back of the restaurant and the long table against the back wall.

  Planting a kiss on Bree’s cheek, he thumped Jase on the back of his head and took the empty seat across from them, next to Denise.

  “Hey. Where’s Chris?” He hardly ever saw Denise without her husband attached to her. Thursday had been the first time in weeks he’d seen her alone.

  “Went to see a man about a boat,” Denise said.

  He glanced behind her chair at the large, canine-shaped mound that was her service dog, Sprocket. Straightening up, he asked, “Is that because you already have a horse?”

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha,” she fake laughed.

  He grinned. There’d been a time when he’d thought about asking Denise out, but after spending some time with her he knew they’d never have worked out. She was too independent. Not that he had anything against independent women, but he needed at least the illusion of being needed. It wasn’t ego. He enjoyed taking care of a woman. He wasn’t going to apologize for being an old-fashioned romantic—even if that didn’t get him a lot of dates nowadays.

  “How’s the old lady doing?” Denise asked.

  “You were right. She’s in the running for the laziest dog in the world. If I didn’t walk her, I’m not even sure she would move to go to the bathroom.”

  “Told you,” she said with a smirk.

  “I’m still not adopting her.”

  The girl approached their table with a tray loaded down with glasses of water and a basket of bread.

  He popped up and helped her set the glasses on the table while she placed the basket of bread in the middle.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Can I get a straw?” Jase asked.

  She flipped her tray over and held it in front of her. “There are reusable straws with your silverware.”

  Bree picked up her napkin-wrapped utensils and pulled out a long, silver tube. “It’s metal.”

  “Stainless steel. Americans use five-hundred million plastic straw each day, most of which end up in landfills or the ocean where they kill thousands of birds and sea life each year.”

  Bree looked at her straw. “That’s so sad.” She slapped Jase on the chest with the back of her hand, making him flinch. “We’re getting reusable straws.”

  “Okay,” he grunted.

  Tim’s lips twitched. He’d give Jase shit about being whipped, but it looked good on him.

  “Have you had a chance to look over the menus?” the girl asked.

  He hadn’t. He opened the menu in front of him. “Is there a dessert only option?”

  “We do have the dessert lunch,” she said.

  His head snapped up. “The what?”

  She leaned over and pointed.

  The Save Room Special.

  “It’s the quiche of the day and your choice of a half salad and pastry. The warm goat cheese and fig salad with balsamic vinaigrette is my favorite. It comes with walnuts so if you decide that’s what you want, let me know if you have any allergies.”

  “I’m sold,” Denise said.

  “Me too. No allergies.” Bree said. “Are we waiting for Chris?”

  “No. I’m starving. He can order when he gets here.” Denise held her menu out to
the girl.

  Tim made a show of glancing over the menu, but he was sold as well. “I’ll have the same.”

  “What? No steamed chicken and grilled vegetables?” Jase asked.

  “Shut up.” It was steamed vegetables and grilled chicken and it was easy. Bland, but easy, which was one of the reasons the delicious smell of fresh bread was causing his mouth to salivate.

  “I’ll have the French dip,” Jase said.

  “You’re a dip,” Tim said. Not very mature, but when were brothers ever?

  Jase grinned. “And can I get extra meat, please?”

  “Of course. Did anyone want anything other than water to drink?”

  Everyone replied with a negative.

  “Great, I’ll put those orders in right away.”

  She took Jase and Tim’s menus and left the table. Seconds later a high-pitched shriek rent the air.

  Sprocket let out a deep woof.

  Tim shoved back his chair as he stood and pivoted, reaching for his service revolver. Which he didn’t have. So stupid. He should have sat facing the door, then he could have seen the threat of…

  Zoe and her sister?

  Chapter 9

  A much younger version of Elba screamed and catapulted herself into Zoe’s arms.

  “Aunt Zoe! Oh my god! You’re here! You’re here!” She jumped up and down, jarring Zoe’s chin with her shoulder, causing her teeth to snap together.

  The doors of the kitchen flew open and Elba burst through. “April, what on earth?”

  Zoe watched the worry melt to a smile.

  “Hey, you made it.”

  “I take it you didn’t tell her I was coming and that she’s feeling better?”

  “Yeah.” She turned to the dining room. “Sorry, everyone—family reunion.”