Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

by Brenna Jacobs

  Zoey smiled, grateful to have at least one ally. “Thanks.”

  “Seriously though,” Rebecca said. She leaned back and angled her face to the sun. “Can you imagine? Having him to wake up to every morning?”

  Zoey forced herself not to smile. She could imagine. Well, almost. They weren’t exactly waking up together, but she was in his kitchen every day while he drank his morning coffee and she kissed him goodbye on his way out the door. And the kisses they shared when the kids weren’t around sent enough fire coursing through her that she could easily imagine what falling asleep and waking up in his arms would feel like. That had to count for something.

  “And I bet his house is absolutely gorgeous,” Rebecca went on.

  “I can at least speak to that,” Zoey said. “His house is gorgeous. Like a magazine. It took five years to complete because he built the entire thing himself.”

  “That’s seriously so sexy,” another mom said. “To build the whole thing by hand?” She sighed and shook her head.

  “Come on. Just one thing,” Rebecca said.

  “She did tell you one thing.” Ashley rolled her eyes then shot Zoey a sympathetic look.

  “But that was about his house. Surely there’s something more . . . personal. One thing and I’ll leave you alone,” Rebecca tried again.

  Zoey tugged on her bottom lip, trying to think of something benign enough to share. “Um, he has a golden doodle named Marigold. She’s really sweet.”

  Rebecca looked like maybe she wasn’t going to leave Zoey alone for such an unsatisfactory answer. Before she could push any further, Zoey stood up. “I think I need to check on Oliver.”

  She settled onto the side of the sandbox and leaned forward, helping as Oliver scooped sand into the back of his truck and then drove it to the other side of the box where he dumped it onto an already impressive pile. “That’s good work you’re doing, Ollie.”

  “I build like Daddy,” Oliver said without looking up from his truck.

  “Yeah, you sure do, buddy. Great job.”

  “Hey.”

  Zoey looked up to see Ashley, the redhead, standing beside the sand box, her hands on her hips.

  “Hey,” Zoey said.

  Ashley looked across the playground, yelling for her kid to stop swinging on the monkey bars then sat down beside Zoey. “I’m sorry if Rebecca made you uncomfortable. She’s normally not that bad. But she’s kinda reeling after her divorce. She got hurt pretty bad.”

  “It’s totally fine. I don’t mind her asking. I just, it’s not my place, you know?” Somewhere in the back of her mind, Zoey knew that if she did keep dating Harry, eventually the public would know. These women would know. And they’d likely figure out that she’d been dating him even while they asked her all their pointed questions. Still, Zoey couldn’t bring herself to care. She found herself oddly defensive of her privacy, of Harry’s privacy. Is this what it would always be like? Strangers feeling perfectly empowered to ask questions about their private life?

  “I totally get it,” Ashley said. “And respect you for it. My husband works in film. He’s a producer. He’s worked in the industry long enough for me to have learned how much gossip can ruin people. I think it’s awesome that you don’t want to talk.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Hey. Let me see your phone. I want to give you my number.”

  Zoey only hesitated a moment before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She liked Ashley. Trusted her, even. She pulled up her Contacts app and handed the phone over.

  Ashley keyed in her name and number. “If you ever need a friend, don’t hesitate to text me. My daughter Rowan is good friends with Hannah. I’m sure you have friends and a life outside of your job, so no pressure. I’m just letting you know. We’re not all—” She motioned her head back toward where Rebecca sat. “Like that.” She grinned and closed out Zoey’s contacts. Then she froze, Zoey’s phone in her hands. She looked up at Zoey, her eyes wide, then slowly handed the phone back. “I’m guessing you didn’t want me to see that.”

  Zoey snatched the phone back and closed her eyes, heat flooding her face. A few nights before at Nana’s, when Harry and the kids had come over for dinner, she had taken a selfie of her and Harry snuggled together on the couch. Zoey was smiling directly at the camera, but Harry was looking at her. His nose was pressed against her cheek—he’d just kissed her—and he was smiling, his eyes closed. He looked like he was savoring the moment and the photo had made Zoey’s breath catch when she’d first seen it. When she showed it to Harry, he’d taken her phone, saving the photo as the background on her home screen. “Now you can remember fifty times a day how I feel about you,” he’d said.

  “Oh gosh,” Zoey said. “I’m—”

  “I won’t say anything,” Ashley said, cutting her off. “I swear. I totally get why you didn’t want to tell anyone.”

  “It’s still just so new,” Zoey said. “And I don’t even know if I’m—” She took a deep breath. “I live in Chicago. I’m just here helping out my grandmother for a few months and I needed part-time work. I’m not even sure I’m staying in California after the summer ends.”

  “Wow,” Ashley said.

  “Sorry.” Zoey shook her head. “I don’t even know why I told you all of that.”

  “No, it’s okay. A new relationship is big. And probably the fact that it’s Harrison Beckford makes it feel even bigger.”

  Zoey huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”

  “Like I said,” Ashley said. She pushed herself to standing. “Even if you just need someone to talk to, I’m here. And I promise I’ll be discreet.”

  Zoey nodded. “Thanks.”

  Later that evening, Harry walked Zoey out to her car. Or, his car, really. He’d been letting her drive it back and forth to Nana’s every day. The kids were watching a movie inside, giving them ten minutes of alone time before Zoey had to leave to go and relieve Cassandra.

  Harry leaned against the car, looping his thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her close. She leaned up and kissed him, one hand lingering on the scruff that covered his jawline. “So, um, something happened at the park today.”

  He tensed under her hands. “Something bad?”

  “Not really. I mean, the kids are fine. It didn’t have anything to do with them. But you remember the picture you turned into my phone wallpaper a few nights ago?”

  “That’s a really good picture.”

  She smiled, despite her worry. “Yes. It is. But one of the moms at the park saw it.”

  “Ohhh,” Harry said.

  Zoey bit her lip. “She said she wasn’t going to say anything. There’s another mom, Rebecca, who, if she had seen it, you’d probably have TMZ parked out in your driveway right now. But Ashley, I don’t think she’s like that.”

  “Ashley,” Harry repeated.

  “Rowan’s mom?” Zoey said. “Do you know her?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Charlotte might.”

  “I’m sorry. She asked for my phone so she could give me her number and I didn’t even think—”

  “Zoey,” Harry said, cutting her off. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t care that she saw the picture.”

  Zoey stilled. It’s not that she thought he’d be mad, but he was famous. People cared when famous people dated other people. “Oh. I guess I just thought your people would need to know or something. Doesn’t the public care if you’re dating someone?”

  “Sure they do. But that doesn’t mean I have to care that they care. Let people speculate. Let them talk. I’m not obligated to provide information.”

  Of course he wasn’t. Zoey knew that. But she’d never dated a celebrity before. She could only guess about what sorts of things his PR people needed to know about and what they didn’t. “I guess that’s good news then. I’ll stop drafting a letter to the public in my head, detailing all the reasons why I’m qualified to date you.”

  Harry smiled, the resulting lines etched into his
face nearly making Zoey swoon. “I could write a letter detailing why you’re qualified, but I’m not sure it would be approved for general audiences.”

  “Harry!”

  He chuckled, nuzzling his face into her neck. “I have to go to a thing in a couple of weeks.”

  Zoey leaned back so she could see his face. “A thing?”

  “The network says I have to be there. It’s a charity thing. Red carpet. Press. The whole deal.”

  Zoey nodded. “Okay.”

  “Come with me.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me. Be my date. Officially. Then it won’t matter who sees our picture at the park.”

  Zoey’s heart pounded in her chest. The idea of going somewhere so public both thrilled and terrified her at the same time. “That sounds big.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. People take dates to these things all the time.”

  “But you just got a divorce, Harry. A kind of public one. You showing up with a date is going to make people talk.”

  “The divorce was over a year ago. Let them talk. Let them see how happy you make me.”

  Zoey hesitated. “I don’t know. I’d have to figure something out with Nana.” That was only half of the reason she hesitated. Walking a red carpet as Harry’s date meant that everyone, including her colleagues back in Chicago and worse, her mother, would know that she was dating Harrison Beckford. It likely wouldn’t hurt her chances at landing an anchor position. News anchors were allowed to have personal lives. If anything, the extra media attention might only help her, not that she would ever intentionally leverage a relationship with Harry to benefit her own career.

  But public commitment felt so much bigger than evenings at Nana’s house chilling on the couch, or goodbye kisses after morning coffee. Was she ready for it? Was it what she wanted?

  “I guess it’s too much for your parents to fly in for the weekend?”

  Zoey nearly balked at the thought. Her mother would love that she was dating Harrison Beckford. Not because he was a celebrity, though she’d love that part as well, but just because he was stable. Settled. Employed. With a house and a life Zoey could easily step into. Her mother was the last person she wanted to see right now.

  “Or we could talk to Cassandra,” Harry added, clearly sensing her hesitation. “I’m sure we could figure something out so you could be gone for one night. But no pressure,” he quickly amended. “It’s most important that you feel comfortable leaving her.”

  “No, I know. I’m sure we could figure something out. It wouldn’t be a big deal for you to leave the kids?”

  “Absolutely not. My mom can handle them. Or Charlotte, even.”

  Zoey shook her head. “Don’t ask Charlotte. She doesn’t need anything extra on her plate right now.”

  “Okay. Then my mom.” The light in his eyes dimmed. “You’re still hesitant to say yes.”

  Zoey had felt hesitant, but when she looked at the hope in Harry’s eyes, she could hardly remember why. “No. Not hesitant. Let’s do it. I want to come.” Zoey smiled, allowing her enthusiasm to push away the fear still clinging to her heart. She wouldn’t think about Rebecca at the park who would soon know exactly who Harry was dating, along with every other person who cared enough to look it up on the internet. She wouldn’t think about her life back in Chicago, and the very pressing question of whether or not she’d be willing to walk away from that life to live this one instead.

  She trusted Harry. She wanted a relationship with him. If that meant embracing the very public parts of his life, then so be it. She would figure everything else out later.

  Chapter 10

  Harry walked through the kitchen of the little coastal cottage his team had been gutting over the past week, his assistant, Jason, following close behind. It wasn’t really a kitchen anymore. It was more an empty shell with some exposed plumbing. But by the end of the following afternoon, it would look like a kitchen again. Cabinets would be arriving within the hour, floors were going in first thing the next morning, and the appliances and fixtures would be in a few hours after that.

  “What about the French doors?” Harry asked. “Will they be here in time?”

  Jason nodded. “The truck has already left the warehouse. It’ll be here by six.”

  “Perfect. And Tyson will be here early to finish the install before we start filming?”

  Jason nodded again. “Yes, and yes.”

  “Good. I want to get shots of the floors in progress, but the door already needs to be in before that happens.”

  “Yep. It’s all on the schedule for tomorrow.” He pulled a file out of a portfolio and handed it to Harry. “Mary wants you to look these over. Notes on the next project. A young couple modernizing grandma’s house to fit the needs of their growing family.”

  Harry flipped through the photos. “Looks like the house has good bones,” he said. “Built when?”

  “1923,” Jason said quickly.

  Harry smiled. Jason used to have to look for information like that when Harry asked. Lately, it seemed like he anticipated Harry’s questions before he’d even had time to voice them.

  Jason rolled his eyes, clearly having noticed Harry’s glee. “What? Your questions are very predictable. Is it so surprising that I’ve figured you out?”

  Harry handed the file back to Jason. “Tell Mary I approve.”

  “Friday or Monday for pre-reno walkthrough?”

  Harry scratched the back of his neck and looked around the cottage. They’d probably finish up by Wednesday, which meant cleaning would happen Wednesday night. That meant staging, and post-renovation clean shots would happen on Thursday. They’d be wrapped by Thursday afternoon at the latest.

  “If she’s offering Monday as an option, let’s go with that. I think everyone deserves a long weekend.” Harry crossed through the living room and out the front door toward his truck.

  “Got it,” Jason said, making notes as he followed. “Okay, last thing. The network called again, wanting to know if you’re going to the charity event next Sunday night.”

  Harry unbuckled his tool belt and dropped it into the passenger seat of his truck.

  “This is the fifth time that Beth Ann has called me to ask what your plans are.”

  “That many?”

  Jason pulled out his buzzing phone. “Oh, look.” He turned the screen to face Harry, revealing Beth Ann’s name, then silenced the incoming call. “Now it’s six times.”

  Harry smirked. “You really don’t like talking to Beth Ann, do you?”

  Jason scowled. “Don’t pretend like you don’t also think she’s scary. You need to go to this thing, Harrison, and you need to bring a date. Your adoring public hasn’t seen you looking happy in too long. Did you read Greta’s email this morning? She explained all of this. It’s time to leave the recently divorced label behind and let women swoon over you a little bit. The network needs you to do this; your personal branding needs you to do this.”

  Harry leaned against his truck. “You know how much I hate this part of the job.” It wasn’t that he hated getting dressed up, or even hated going to charity events. If it was a cause that resonated with him, he was happy to offer his image and his financial backing. He just hated the obligation. That so many people had a say in where he went and why he went there. “But even if I hadn’t read Greta’s email this morning, I’d still go to the event.”

  “Harry, you have to—” Jason paused. “Wait, what? You’re going?”

  Harry grinned. “I’m going, and I’m taking Zoey.”

  “Oh. Wow. Okay. That’s great news. I’ll let Beth Ann know. Do you, um, do you want me to talk to Greta about Zoey?”

  Harry raised his eyebrows in question, then climbed into his truck, cranking the engine before lowering his window to finish the conversation with Jason. “Why do we need to talk to Greta about Zoey? She’s coming with me. It’ll make people talk, but that’s nothing we aren’t used to.”

  “Well, but, she’s your n
anny. That’s likely to generate a little bit of extra attention. That you’ve started dating the help.”

  “No. That’s not—don’t say it that way.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, suddenly frustrated by the turn the conversation had taken. “Zoey isn’t the help. She’s a family friend who agreed to temporarily help out with the kids.”

  “I don’t know how Greta will spin that to the media. They’re still going to call her your nanny. I mean, maybe not. But if anyone has seen her out and about with the kids, it won’t take long for rumors to start. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with dating your nanny. But after the way they treated you during the divorce? I’m sure the tabloids will find a way to make it look scandalous.”

  Harry leaned his head back against the seat. “She’s a news anchor from Chicago. She’s got a master’s degree. A career. Can we make sure that’s the information that makes it to the press? Sort of pre-empt the possibility of the nanny angle becoming the story?”

  “So, leak information on purpose so people know who she is before the event?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll talk to Greta. How does Zoey feel about all of this?”

  Harry shrugged. “She’s good with it. She wants to go.” He tried not to think about the way she’d hesitated when he’d asked her to go with him. It had been nice keeping his relationship with Zoey quiet. The fact that they never went out, just bounced between his house and Emily’s had made that easy so far. But if they kept dating—and he wanted them to—their world couldn’t stay that small forever. People would eventually find out, if not at the charity event, then some other time. Admittedly, Zoey had a lot more on the line than he did. He’d grown used to living with minor celebrity status, to being recognized when he was out and about, to the constant interest and speculation regarding his personal life. But by agreeing to go, Zoey was sacrificing a measure of anonymity that she might not get back for a long time. That was plenty of reason for her to hesitate.

  He could only hope she thought he was worth the risk.

  Chapter 11

  Zoey stood back from the mirror at the end of the hallway and twisted to the side, looking at the buttons that cascaded down the back of her dress.