He pressed a kiss to the cradle of her neck and shoulder. It was just as soft as he remembered, slightly warm from the sun. Delectable.
Her shoulder rose, and she giggled as he hit a ticklish spot. “Are you even listening to me?”
He placed a series of kisses. “Branding . . . Granny Nel . . . stores and . . . something else.”
“I didn’t come out here to serve as a distraction,” she said, but her arms had curled around his neck.
“Not your fault. You can’t help it.”
She chuckled. “So generous.”
“I’m a generous guy.” His lips found hers, teasing and playing until her smile was long gone, her laughter a dull memory.
Zoe wove her fingers into the hair at the nape of Cruz’s neck. It was warm from the sun and soft. Nearly as soft as his lips.
He deepened the kiss until Zoe forgot where she was. What she’d been thinking. Everything but the feel of his hands pressing into her back. The smell of his spicy soap weaving around her. The taste of his mouth, hot and hungry on hers.
It was a dream. Like coming home where she belonged. How had she forgotten this? How had she ever settled for Kyle after what she’d had with Cruz? The relationship had been a pale imitation.
His fingers threaded into her hair, making tingles shoot down her limbs. Her body thrummed with delight, every cell alive and pulsing with energy. What he did to her.
Somewhere in the distance—in another world—a throat cleared.
Cruz drew back, and the coolness of the morning pressed in, chilling her. Zoe wobbled, and he steadied her on the ladder’s rung.
She followed his gaze to Deputy Mosley, who was standing a car’s length away in his tan-and-brown uniform, shifting awkwardly. He pushed his frameless glasses up his nose.
“Howdy, deputy,” Cruz said, clearly having more faculties than Zoe at the moment.
“Sorry to interrupt your morning.” His white mustache twitched as he hitched his pants up to his belly.
Zoe stepped down from the ladder. “You’re out and about early. Do you have word about what caused the fire?”
“I do.” He tugged his hat down. “According to the investigator the fire was definitely caused by an accelerant.”
Zoe traded a look with Cruz, her stomach sinking. “Like . . . like maybe a cigarette?”
“More like gasoline.”
“What?” Her legs wobbled beneath her, her breath suddenly trapped in her throat. “You mean someone set it on purpose?”
“Are you sure?” Cruz asked.
“’Fraid so. The fire originated at a point near the rear window. There was a large rock in the ashes, likely tossed through the window with a gasoline-soaked rag. Burn patterns and other factors corroborate the point of origin. It’s an open-and-shut case.”
“But . . . but who would do something like that?”
“That’s what we’ll be trying to figure out. Arson cases pretty much revolve around opportunity and motive since the evidence tends to get burned up.” Deputy Mosley drilled her with a look. “Is there anyone you’ve had words with, Zoe? Someone who’d be wishing you ill?”
“I—” She glanced at Cruz. A shadow flickered in his jaw. “No. Not that I can think of.”
“Is the building insured?” Deputy Mosley asked.
“Why, of course. They knew of the renovations. I had to get a building permit.”
“I have to ask . . . Are you the beneficiary?”
“I—” Her gaze sharpened on Deputy Mosley. “Wait a minute. You’re not thinking—”
“Come on, Deputy.” Cruz shelved his hands on his hips. “That’s ridiculous. Zoe’s been working her butt off trying to get this market ready in time for Peach Fest. She was depending on it.”
Deputy Mosley lifted his shoulders, looking somewhat sheepish. “I’ve been a friend of your family for years, Zoe, and I’m trying to help. But the fact is, you stand to come into some money, and it’s no secret harvest is down this year. Unless you can think of someone else who’d do this, this is probably the direction the sheriff’s going to go. That’s why you need to be thinking about who else might’ve done this.”
Cruz nailed Zoe with a look. “What about Kyle?”
“He-he’s in Nashville.”
“Is he? How do you know that?”
“Kyle Jimmerson?” the deputy asked. “What’s he got to do with all this?”
“He wants Zoe back, that’s what,” Cruz said.
Mosley’s eyes sharpened on Zoe. “That true?”
“I reckon so . . . yes.” Zoe folded her arms over her chest. “He’s been trying to get me to rejoin the band.” But he wouldn’t do anything like this. Would he?
Cruz gave her a pointed look. “He’s been sending her flowers and harassing her with phone calls and texts.”
Zoe palmed her throat. “Harassing is a bit strong, maybe.”
Cruz gave her a look. Whose side are you on?
“I just can’t believe he’d go this far.”
“He hit you, Zoe—have you forgotten that already?” Cruz’s eyes swung to the deputy. “We called in the assault from the Rusty Nail.”
“I remember the report. Well. That’s certainly a place to start. We’ll definitely look into it.”
“How long will that take?” Zoe asked. She needed that check.
“Shouldn’t take long. In the meantime, if you think of anything else that might be helpful, let me know.” He left his card, tipped his hat, and said good-bye.
When the hum of his engine started in the distance, Cruz pinned Zoe with a look. “I knew that guy was bad news.”
She didn’t want to believe it of Kyle. Even now, when it would absolve her. But what would happen if there was no evidence against him? Would they find her guilty of a crime she hadn’t committed?
“Hey . . . come here.” Cruz framed her face with his work-roughened hands. “It’s going to be all right. If Kyle did it, they’ll figure it out.”
“I hope you’re right.”
chapter thirty-five
Everybody’s staring at me.” Zoe lowered her fork and washed her pancakes down with a glass of ice water.
“Let them look,” Cruz said. “You’ve got nothing to hide.”
Saturday at the diner was crowded with neighbors and a sprinkling of tourists. The savory smells of bacon and omelets that had welcomed her through the doors now made her stomach turn.
Dorothy Winslow tossed a look over her bony shoulder. She sat with two other ladies from the auxiliary. In a nearby booth Allison Blevins, one of Cruz’s old flames, sat with her folks, stealing glances every few minutes.
She didn’t know why the speed of the town grapevine surprised her. She’d sure provided her share of gossip lately, what with the ruckus at the Rusty Nail and the revelation of Gracie’s paternity. Then again, it seemed she’d always given the residents of Copper Creek something to talk about.
“More pancakes, Mama.” Gracie eyed Zoe’s plate.
Zoe forked a silver dollar pancake onto her daughter’s plate and wiped a dot of syrup from her chin.
She lowered her voice for Cruz’s ears only. “Everybody’s staring. What if they think I really did it?”
“Nobody believes that. You’re well loved here.” He covered her hand with his. “This’ll pass soon enough.”
Her gaze flickered to his hand. “Do you know what the penalty for arson is?”
“Stop looking things up on the Internet. They’re going to get Kyle.”
“If it even was him. If they can’t find who really did this I could get jail time, Cruz, on top of a fine, not to mention a nice criminal record to go along with it.”
He squeezed her hand. “Hey. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. Give the sheriff’s office a chance to get to the bottom of it.”
“And in the meantime, what? Just forget all the drama that seems to follow me around like a bad smell?”
“In the meantime, get your store up and running. We’ve got a b
unch to do before the grand opening. Now let’s get the check and get out of here. Take Gracie to the park for a few minutes.”
Gracie perked up, pushing back her plate. “I’m done!” she said around a mouthful of pancake.
Cruz made quick work of the bill, and minutes later they spilled out into the late morning. The sun glimmered overhead, and the humidity stole her breath and seeped into her clothing. They clasped Gracie’s hands between them and started up the sidewalk toward Murphy’s Park, named for the man who settled the town back in 1832.
As they walked, they lifted Gracie between them. She squealed with delight as she swung above the sidewalk.
Zoe’s arm was tiring by the time they hit the center of town. “All right, all right!” Zoe said, laughing. “Mama’s getting too old for this.”
As they passed the storefronts a glass door opened, and Zoe’s dad stepped out from his law office. He stopped, blocking their path, and his shrewd eyes quickly took in the trio.
“Well. Isn’t this a pretty picture.” Dressed in a suit and tie, he exuded the kind of confidence and power that made Zoe want to either shrink ten sizes or toss her chin in the air.
She opted for the latter. “Hi, Daddy.”
She resisted the urge to tame her frizzy curls or tuck in her shirt as his eyes roved over her.
Cruz gave a nod. “Mr. Collins. What are you up to this morning?”
“Working.” He fixed Zoe with a look. “As maybe you should be too. Sounds as though you’ve had quite the week. It’s too bad about your barn.”
Cruz stiffened beside her. “Your daughter nearly died in a fire this week, sir.”
Her dad looked Cruz up and down, clearly sizing him up and finding him wanting. “I’ve heard all about it.” He turned that look on Zoe. “If there’s anything you excel at, Zoe, it’s keeping the tongues wagging around here. You’ve made an art form of it.”
Cruz stepped in front of Zoe. “Now, listen here—”
“No, you listen. My relationship with my daughter is none of your business. Never was, never will be.” He drilled Zoe with a look. “You should’ve taken me up on my offer. Don’t come to me for help. You got yourself into this mess. Get yourself out.”
He spun toward his Mercedes, the soles of his dress shoes grinding the pebbles into the sidewalk. He tossed his briefcase inside, started the car, and pulled from the diagonal slot.
At his departure all the fight seemed to drain from Zoe in one long exhale. She didn’t realize she was shaking until Cruz grabbed her hand.
“Come on.” He tugged her forward. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
She could feel his gaze on her for a long moment. “Liar.”
She tossed him a wobbly smile. Her dad made her feel so incapable. Like she was nothing but one big disappointment. And she had made a wreck of her life, hadn’t she? She’d gotten pregnant at nineteen, failed to inform the baby’s daddy, run off with a man who was at best a mean person, at worst an abusive narcissist. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? Why on earth couldn’t she do anything right?
“Hey . . . ,” Cruz said.
She looked at him, the tenderness in his brown eyes instantly soothing her ragged spirits. She allowed herself to soak up the warmth for a long moment.
“I’ll never make him happy. I’m nothing but a disappointment to him.”
“It’s not your job to make him happy.”
She thought of Cruz’s dad, completely absent from his life. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain about my dad when yours—”
He squeezed her hand. “Your hurt is my hurt.”
Still, at least her dad had been there. He hadn’t abandoned her. He’d provided a roof over her head and more advantages than most children had. “I’ll keep trying. Maybe someday he’ll come around.”
“If he doesn’t, it’s his loss. You’re an amazing woman, Zoe. You’re smart and hardworking, and you’re a great mom.”
Gracie moved to Zoe’s other side, taking her hand. A frown flattened her brows. “Mama . . . I don’t like Papaw.”
Zoe floundered for the right thing to say. Should she scold her daughter for being unkind? But she’d only been stating her feelings. And how many times had Zoe thought the very same thing?
Before she could decide, the park came into view at the end of town. The playground equipment crouched on the shady mound of grass.
“Race you to the swings, Bella . . . ,” Cruz called, taking off at a slow jog.
Gracie ran after him. “Wait for me, Daddy! Wait for me!”
The corner of Zoe’s lips turned up at her daughter’s excitement. At the sight of the two of them running toward the park. Her daughter had a good daddy. One who’d accept her as she was and give her a solid sense of confidence. It gave her hope. And that was the very thing she needed most right now.
Cruz gave Gracie a push on the swing. “Pump with your legs. That’s it. Look at you go.”
“Higher!”
“Say más alto.”
“Massado!”
He chuckled. “Close enough.” He gave her another push.
Gracie leaned back, her little legs extended, then leaned forward at the peak, tucking her legs under her. The chains squeaked rhythmically.
“Massado, Daddy!” she called a moment later.
“That’s high enough. You’re going to flip right over the swing set.”
Gracie giggled. The wind blew her hair back as she sailed forward. Her little legs worked hard. One of her shoelaces flapped in the breeze. He’d already braved the high slide with her and pushed her and Zoe on the merry-go-round until Zoe got sick to her stomach.
He glanced over at Zoe, who’d parked herself on a green bench under a broad oak tree. She’d been quiet since the run-in with her dad, and who could blame her? The man had a way of making a person feel small. Cruz used to resent not having a dad of his own. But after seeing what Zoe’s dad was like, he wondered if no dad at all was better than a bad one.
He was going to be a good father for Gracie. He was going to be the kind of father he wished he’d had. The kind Zoe had deserved.
He looked at her, sitting on the bench with her shoulders slumped, her chin tucked.
He gave Gracie one last push. “Keep up the good work, Bella. I’m going to go sit with your mom.”
“Okay,” Gracie said. “Mama! Look how high I can go!”
Zoe smiled. “You’re such a big girl.”
Cruz admired the graceful curve of Zoe’s neck as he approached the bench. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail today, and he loved the creamy perfection of her skin against her red hair.
Good job, God.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Yeah. I guess I’m done with the round-and-round thing.”
“We all have to grow up sometime.” He sank onto the bench beside her, setting an arm around her.
The shade felt good, and the breeze felt even better. Leaves fluttered overhead, and somewhere in the branches a robin tweeted. The smell of lilacs and cut grass permeated the air.
“What are you thinking about over here, all quiet?” He tugged her closer, loving the way she felt, all nestled into his side.
She gave him a sideways look. “All the girls you’ve dated.”
He blinked at her. That wasn’t at all what he’d expected. “You say that like there’ve been a lot.”
“Well, I may have been gone awhile, but I hear things, you know.” She set her hand on his leg. “So were any of them . . . you know. Serious?”
His lips quirked. “Not really, no.”
She bit her lip, and he watched the plump pink flesh go white. Wanted to soothe the spot—but maybe now wasn’t the time. She clearly had other things on her mind.
“So . . . this Daphne person,” she said. “I don’t think I know her.”
He sighed. It appeared they were going to do this. He wasn’t sure why she needed to know about his past. Heaven knew, he didn’t want to know a
single detail about her and Kyle.
“She’s a bank teller from Dalton. We dated for several months last year.”
“I hear she’s quite the looker.”
“Not as pretty as you.”
Zoe smirked at his pat, though very true, answer. He ran his fingers down the back of her neck, to that little spot in the cradle of her shoulder, just begging for a kiss. His lips tingled with want.
“So what went wrong between you?” she asked. “Why’d you part ways?”
“I broke up with her. She—I don’t know. We didn’t have much in common, I guess.”
“I guess . . . ?”
When he failed to fill in the blanks, she moved on. “Okay, what about Sarah McAllister?”
Sarah was a kindergarten teacher at Copper Creek Elementary. She was a kindhearted and warm woman who was now married to Derek from the hardware store.
Cruz toyed with a strand of hair that hadn’t quite made it into the ponytail. What he really wanted to do was kiss her silly and make her forget all the women he’d ever dated—just as he had.
But she pressed on. “Sarah . . .”
“We dated a while. I don’t know . . . eight months maybe.” He gave Zoe a look. “And I broke up with her because she was talking about how many kids we were going to have and where we were going to live, and I just wasn’t ready for all that.”
“Typical male. Okay . . . and Allison Blevins.”
Ah, that’s what had started all this. He’d spotted Allison at the diner. “We went out for maybe a year. It was pretty casual for a long while.”
“And then what happened? What was wrong with Allison?”
He sighed hard, then turned her in his arms, his gaze sharpening on hers. “You really want to know what was wrong with Allison Blevins? She wasn’t you. And Sarah McAllister? She wasn’t you. And Daphne Stevens?”
“She wasn’t me?”
“No . . . She was a Gators fan.”
Zoe jabbed an elbow in his gut, and he grunted, chuckling until a smile curled her lips.
But there was nothing funny about the vulnerable longing in her green eyes, the wistful look on her face. Her father had planted so many insecurities in her by knocking down her ideas and making her feel incapable. The insecurities went core-deep, and he wanted nothing more than to assure her of her value.
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