“Oh, good Lord, stop.” She pushed him away. “All I said was I wasn’t angry anymore. What on earth makes you think we’re getting back together?”
“But, babe, if you’re not angry, what’s holding you back?”
“How about the fact I don’t want you?”
The expression on Paul’s face made it seem like she’d spoken a foreign language. “Of course you want me,” he said. “We’re Team Brodsky. Don’t you remember all our plans? Our dreams?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Then how can you throw all that away? I came all the way here to get you. Surely that means something.”
“It means your short game’s gone to pot,” she told him. “You gave it your best shot, Paul, but Team Brodsky’s history. You’ll have to find another way to fund your dreams.”
“No, I don’t believe you.” He closed the distance between them. Grasping her shoulders, he forced her close. “I need you, babe,” he whispered in his honeyed voice. “I need you too much.”
Zoe looked into the brown eyes she’d once found so irresistible. They were really quite bland, she realized. Passionless even as he declared his desire for her. Dear Lord, Jake showed more emotion closed off than Paul did at his most effusive.
Jake. Just thinking his name made her heart catch. She thought of the hunger he tried to disguise when they were close. Of the way she could see down to his soul when she stared into their green depths. Those were the eyes she wanted to look into. Not these.
“You don’t need me, Paul. You’re just needy.”
She moved to push him away, but Paul held fast. His voice grew a little rougher. “I’m not giving up that easily, babe. You’re still upset—I get that. Soon as I show you how I need you, though, things will be different.”
“No, Paul.”
“Remember that time in the condo? You were making toast, and I came up behind you? You said you liked when I took charge.” One hand snaked its way to her neck, cupping her jaw, forcing her face upward. His eyes glittered with determination. “That what you want now, babe? For me to take charge?”
Zoe couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear. Blood pounded in her eardrums, drowning everything but her fear. Paul had always been selfish, but he’d never been violent.
Then again, she’d never turned him down before, and he hated to lose.
“Let me go!” She shoved at his shoulders, but years of swinging a golf club left him with a powerful grip. His knee slipped between her thighs. She felt the edge of the counter cutting into her back as he bent her backward.
“I believe the lady said stop.”
Jake.
Zoe had never been so relieved to see a man in all her life. Everything would be okay, now. Jake was here.
Crossing the room in one giant step, he grabbed Paul by the collar and yanked the golf pro off her.
“Hey!” Paul hollered, breaking free of his grip. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m her handyman.”
No, thought Zoe, heart in her throat. He was her hero.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Handyman, my wife and I were having a private discussion.”
“Doesn’t look like much of a conversation,” Jake replied. “And last I checked, Zoe was divorced.”
Jake leveled his green eyes like lasers straight at Paul, making it clear he was about to mount another attack. From the way his fingers flexed, she could tell this time he wouldn’t be as gentle. Paul folded his arms. Zoe recognized the stance. He wasn’t going quietly. That had been his problem as a golfer, too. He never could read the breaks in a green.
“And last time I checked,” he said with more than a little bravado, “the handyman didn’t call the shots in my house.”
“My house.” Both men looked at her as Zoe finally found her voice. “This is my house.”
Paul nodded. “Sure, babe. Then tell this handyman to leave us alone so we can talk.” His eyes raked her up and down, as if to silently add, “You know you want to.”
The leer made her sick inside. Instinctively she moved toward the one thing that made her feel safe. Jake. “The only person leaving, Paul, is you,” she said. “Get out.”
Her ex-husband looked like he’d missed a two-inch putt. “You can’t mean that.”
“You heard the lady,” Jake added. “Get out.”
“And stay out,” Zoe added. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
At first Paul didn’t budge, preferring to stare at the two of them, and making Zoe fear the altercation would escalate. Venom shone in his eyes. At last, she thought to herself. He’s finally showing his true colors.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyers about this, Zoe,” he said at last. “I won’t stand for being assaulted.”
“Neither will I,” she replied. “I suggest you rethink that call.”
Before he could say anything else, Jake escorted him to the front door, remaining in the open entrance until the golfer had climbed into his car and driven away. As soon as his car disappeared over the horizon, Zoe sagged against the wall. Shivers racked her body. What if…? She hugged her midsection, trying to hold herself together. Jake’s large frame appeared before her. “Zoe?”
“What if…? He…” She took a sharp breath. Her lungs burned for the effort. “If you hadn’t come by when…you…did…”
The smell of bay rum wrapped itself around her, along with a pair of strong, warm arms. Zoe buried herself in the embrace, letting the security of Jake’s presence calm the storm inside her.
“It’s okay,” she heard him murmur. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Zoe believed him. Inside, her heart opened, finally acknowledging the emotion she’d been dancing around for weeks. Everything would be all right. Jake was here.
Her fingers brushed the lip of Jake’s breast pocket. Beneath them, she could feel his heart, the erratic beat mirroring her own.
“Zoe…” Jake’s voice had deepened. Looking to his face, she saw his eyes had darkened, too, the pupils blown so wide, their green depths were nearly black.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he whispered. “So bright. So sweet.” His hand reached up and thumbed her cheek. “So tempting.”
Her, tempting? She’d have looked away in embarrassment, but he had too tight a hold on her.
Meanwhile, Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Her throat ran dry in anticipation. “You make me feel—” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
Yes, it did. “Why not?”
“Because.” His smile was sad. “Nothing’s changed, Zoe. I’m still as dead inside as I ever was. I could never give back to you what you deserve.”
Nothing’s changed. Red flashed in front of Zoe’s eyes. “Damn you!” The events of the day had left her insides ragged. Hearing his rejection, the tenuous hold on her nerves snapped and she began beating her fists against his chest. “You son of a bitch. Who the hell gave you permission to walk out on life? Huh? Who decided you get to sit on the sidelines while the rest of us carry on?”
“Look, I know you—”
“No, you don’t know anything.” Hot, angry tears sprang to her eyes. She was sick of it. Sick of caring and not being cared for back. Sick of investing her heart and soul only to get hurt time and time again. Stay out of the way, Zoe. Don’t be a bother, Zoe. Help me, Zoe.
“Know what?” she asked, wiping her nose. “Paul might have used me, but at least he wasn’t a coward.”
Jake drew in a breath. “A what?”
“You heard me, a coward. At least he went after what he wanted. He didn’t lock himself away, afraid to live life.”
The ragged sound of his breathing told Zoe she was treading on thin ice, and she didn’t care. It was worth the risk if she could get through to Jake. All this time everyone had been treating him with kid gloves, afraid of opening his wounds or making him lose control. Well, maybe it was time to take off the gloves and give him a strong dose of truth. Maybe losing contro
l was exactly what he needed.
“You say you’re barricading yourself from the rest of the world because you’re dead inside. You’re not dead. You’re afraid. You’re afraid to be happy. At least be that honest. Don’t act all noble and pretend you’re doing the ‘right thing’ when the truth is you’re simply too scared to live.”
“Don’t.” One word. One simple word of warning. Zoe ignored it.
“Worst thing of all is, you’re too blind with guilt to see happiness when it’s standing right in front of you, offering itself on a silver platter. Tell me, Jake. How long are you going to keep punishing yourself for coming home alive? What would your men say if they knew you were using them as an excuse to avoid the world?”
Jake slammed the front door behind him, leaving her standing alone in the foyer. Anger still coursing through her, Zoe watched until his blond head disappeared behind the fence, then buried her face in her hands. She didn’t know whether to cry or throw something. Stupid blind fool.
The only bigger fool was her. Because now she knew Kent Mifflin was right.
She was in love with Jake.
Of all the insane ideas…
He was not afraid of living. He wasn’t. He dragged his sorry self out of bed every morning, didn’t he? If anything, he spent every freaking day painfully aware that he was alive.
Zoe was simply wrong. All the more reason he needed to back away from her. Despite all his explaining, she didn’t understand he couldn’t be the kind of man she deserved. Eventually she’d see the wisdom of his decision and thank him. She would.
Back in his house, he was halfway through grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, when he caught the date on the calendar. June thirteenth. The day before Flag Day. Terrific. Now he had two subjects to ruminate about when the nightmares woke him up. Zoe and Kent Mifflin’s big “hero” celebration.
He grabbed a backup beer. Looked like it would be a long night.
The dream was the same as always. Flames surrounding him. The smell of blood and sulfur in his nostrils. Ramirez and the others crying out for him. Ayúdame! Don’t forget us! Ayúdame!
Jake lay prone in the sand, his body sticky with blood. He was trying to crawl his way to the truck.
Ayúdame! Ayúdame!
A new voice joined the chorus. Soft and sweet, like a siren song. “Over here, Jake! Over here!”
Looking to the hills behind him, he saw Zoe hopping from rock to rock. She wore her orange T-shirt and denim cutoff shorts. Her messy ponytail bounced with each hop she took.
“Get down!” he hollered. “Take cover!”
But Zoe ignored him. “I’m not in danger,” she told him. “It’s perfectly safe here. Come and see.”
He tried. Digging into the sand with his elbows, he pushed himself forward. But he went nowhere.
“Ayúdame!” Ramirez and the others chanted. “Captain! Captain!”
“Jake, come over here. It’s safe here!”
“Don’t forget us….”
“You’ll be safe here.”
Back and forth the two sides called to him. Jake could hear them, but he couldn’t move. Not in either direction. The sand had turned into a giant block of cement. He was stuck.
“Move, Jake. Move!” the voices began chanting.
“I can’t,” he told them. “I can’t move.”
“You have to move…”
Jake’s eyes flew open. His clothes were cold and damp from sweat, but at least he could move his legs again. He could move. The realization hit him square in the gut. He. Could. Move.
Swinging his feet to the floor, he moved to stand, but not before glancing at the alarm clock to see how long he’d managed to sleep. Four-thirty, the display read.
Flag Day.
In the end, Zoe went to the celebration because someone should. She’d go and she’d pay tribute to the men Jake lost. Maybe doing so would help her say goodbye to her neighbor.
Nothing else had.
“May I have your attention please?”
Kent Mifflin’s voice loomed over the loudspeaker, louder than the waves crashing the beach behind them.
“In 1916, President Woodrow Wilson declared June fourteenth as Flag Day, a day to honor the American flag and the ideals it represented. Therefore, we thought it only fitting that on this day, we honor those men and women who fought under that flag…”
As the speech went on, Zoe let her gaze flit over the crowd. Kent and his committee had to be proud. The turnout was outstanding. In addition to the VIPs and veterans joining Kent on the podium, a sizeable crowd had gathered in the park to watch the ceremony. Some were even in uniform, including several men old enough to be her grandfather. One particular gentleman, with a cane and wearing a brown infantry uniform, caught her eye and winked. She smiled in return.
Yes, sir, Kent managed to draw quite a crowd. Too bad not everyone he’d invited was in attendance.
Even though she knew Jake wouldn’t be here, she hadn’t expected his absence to feel so glaring.
“…men and women who wore their uniforms so others would not have to…”
She tried telling herself the empty feeling in her chest was guilt for telling him off yesterday, but her heart knew better. The emptiness was Jake himself. He belonged here, with those men and women on the platform.
With her.
“…who suffered and made sacrifices many cannot imagine…”
The sun broke through the clouds, heating the late morning air. Zoe slipped off the cardigan that covered her denim sundress. After three weeks, she’d finally smartened up about New England weather and worn layers. Now if she could only smarten up about other things. Like the fact she’d fallen in love with yet another man who didn’t love her back.
She supposed she should be grateful Jake wasn’t after her money, too. Though it would be easier if he were. But no, he was trying to protect her from being used and hurt. And hurting her ten times more in the process.
Boy, she sure could pick them, couldn’t she? An ex-husband who needed everything, and a man so mired in guilt he was afraid to need anything.
Nothing good ever comes from loving the wrong man. Talk about not following her own advice.
“Therefore, we stand today in their—”
Kent’s voice stuttered, catching her attention. Looking up, she saw the older man look to the crowd before continuing, “We stand today in their honor…”
She wasn’t sure why—maybe it was his expression that compelled her—but Zoe suddenly turned to her right. A flash of blue toward the rear of the crowd caught her eye.
Dear Lord…
He stood at attention, resplendent in a navy blue uniform. Hair neatly trimmed, the black brim of his cap straight over his eyes. Blue-and-gold epaulets gleamed on his broad shoulders. A rainbow of ribbons hung over his heart.
Dear Lord but he was awe-inspiring in that uniform. It was as if all the confidence and command he carried inside himself had turned outward for the world to see.
Zoe’s heart lurched. What made him change his mind about attending?
Sensing her, Jake turned in her direction. Quickly, Zoe looked away. Not before, however, she felt his hard stare. It reminded her of the day they’d met. When he’d wanted nothing to do with her.
On stage, Kent and Jenkin Carl prepared to unveil the statue. Jenkin was explaining something about vision and experience. Zoe didn’t listen. Her attention was on the man across the crowd. Glancing back again, she saw Jake had returned his attention to the dais. He knew she was here, and yet he didn’t move to join her. It looked like his change of heart was only regarding the ceremony. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kent announced proudly. “We give you Sacrifice!”
The crowd broke into applause. Swallowing back her own emotions, Zoe joined them. Next to her, the old man in uniform snapped into a salute. She pictured Jake doing the same.
Oh, Jake.
As the ceremony drew to a close and the crowds t
hinned, Zoe saw Jake hanging back. Occasionally someone would walk over to him and say something. He would nod and shake their hand. A couple even saluted. Though the brim of his hat cast his face in shadow, Zoe could tell from his reaction that he was taken aback by the show of respect.
At least he was trying. Maybe she’d helped him a little after all. Too bad she had to break her heart in the process.
“I know you’d convince him,” a voice said from behind her.
Kent’s face was flushed with enthusiasm. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Jake in the crowd. Your boy looks pretty damn impressive, doesn’t he?”
He’s not mine. Zoe forced a smile. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. I didn’t know he was coming, either.”
“Once again, I think you sell yourself short.”
Not likely. At least not this time. She stole a glance at the other side of the green. Jake stood thirty feet away, but it might as well have been a canyon.
“I’m going to head over and speak with him,” Kent said. “You coming?”
Zoe shook her head. She was pretty sure she was the last person Jake wanted to see right now. “I think I’ll take a closer look at that statue of yours, if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll catch you later at the breakfast.” He gave her an indulgent pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thank you,” she replied, “for doing a really great thing.”
Jenkin Carl’s “statue” was really a mass of twisted metal. Black and harshly contrary to its setting, the work featured a trio of spires rising skyward from out of the tangle, as if rising above the chaos. Looking at the piece, Zoe’s own insides twisted, too. You could feel the darkness reach inside and touch you.
She ran a hand along the gleaming black surface, thinking of what the statue represented. What men and women like Jake gave up.
Jake. Her insides crumpled. How was she going to spend the rest of the summer with him next door? She’d come to Naushatucket to fix a broken heart, only to find out what a real broken heart felt like.
Guess there was no reason to stay, was there? She sure as hell couldn’t heal here now. At least Caroline would be happy.
The Heart of a Hero Page 12