“Hopefully, by six, but I can’t promise you it won’t be later. If I do finish early, we can go out for dinner. Do you like crab legs?”
“Only if they’re dripping in butter,” she returned, grinning.
Zach chuckled, his momentary irritation gone. “Then you’d better wear something washable, because we’re going to get messy.”
There was a warm, silly lilt in her heart when she walked him out onto the deck shortly afterward and said goodbye. But as it generally did when a reasonable distance separated them, reality reappeared quickly. It was a mistake to feel warm, lilting things for him. She was merely vacationing here for a few days, nothing more. Even if there were more…even if they didn’t live three states away and live very different lives…trust was a difficult thing to mend once it was broken.
Lifting her sailboat to her lips, Kristin stared out at the blue-green Atlantic and blew softly, hoping her mother had been right.
Chapter 8
L ater that morning, Kristin descended the long wooden stairs to the beach to walk the shoreline, determined to enjoy herself. She smiled at the tiny, lightning-quick crabs that burrowed to safety after being sloshed onto the beach by the waves, marveled at the gulls and pelicans winging over the water. This truly was a much different world than the one she knew. All around her, people played with their children and splashed in the surf, oblivious to anything else going on in the world.
She felt a twinge of longing as she gathered shells and watched twin toddlers race across the sand with their pails and shovels. The little boys couldn’t have been older than three, their red swimming trunks drooping sweetly over their baby bellies. How wonderful it would be to have a child of her own.
She was still thinking about the twins when she walked back to Zach’s beach house.
We’d have beautiful kids, Chad had said, and she wanted them badly. But there was no chemistry with Chad, no excitement. No breathless feeling of anticipation for a touch or a kiss…or that shivery joining in the dark. She’d had that once.
It hurt to know that someday she might have to settle for less.
When Zach didn’t call by twelve-thirty, she fixed herself a sandwich and glass of milk for lunch. By three-thirty, she’d dusted furniture that hadn’t needed dusting, taken a short nap on the deck, and baked a chocolate cake from a mix she’d found in his cupboard.
By five o’clock, she’d shed her black swimsuit for a yellow one-piece romper. Zach had said they might go out for dinner, but the more she considered the long hours he worked in the heat, the more she felt that eating here was best. He had all the fixings for grilled chicken salads—and they did have a chocolate cake for dessert. She smiled. If they stayed in this evening, they could watch the sunset together.
Niggling concerns began to creep in when there was no word from him by seven, and by nine-thirty, Kristin was beside herself with worry.
Striding to the kitchen phone, she dialed the number on the Davis Construction calendar hanging beside it. Her heart pounded as she waited through half a dozen rings. If something had gone wrong, someone at the trailer would be able to tell her. Providing anyone was there at this hour.
A man with a warm Carolina drawl picked up the receiver. “Davis Construction.”
Kristin willed herself to calm down. “Hello. This is—I’m a friend of Mr. Davis’s. Is he there?”
“Just a minute. I’ll check.” The man covered the mouthpiece and called out. He didn’t cover it well enough. “You here? It’s a woman.” After a short pause, he said, “Naw, a different voice from the one who called yesterday. Nice voice.”
There was a click, then Zach was on the line. “Davis.”
“Zach, hi,” she said hesitantly. “I guess I got you at a bad time.”
His low groan was full of apology. “Oh hell, Kris, I’m sorry. I’m up to my ears in trouble here. I meant to call you earlier, but I got so involved with— What time is it?” he asked, then answered himself. “Damn. It’s after nine. Look, I can probably finish in a half hour or so—”
“No, don’t rush on my account,” she cut in, trying to ignore her disappointment. “I was just a little worried when I didn’t hear from you.” She forced a laugh. “I kept picturing you in traction somewhere.”
After a long pause, he said soberly, “I’m not used to checking in with anyone.”
In the background, another male voice yelled that he was heading home. Covering the phone, Zach called back, “Thanks for hanging those cupboards. See you tomorrow,” then resumed their conversation. Though he sounded interested when he asked about her day, Kristin knew that his had been long, and her phone call was making it longer.
“I had fun. The beach is glorious. But we can talk about that tomorrow. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. See you in the morning. I’ll show you the shells I found.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said warmly. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Kristin replaced the handset, then walked slowly to her room to change for bed. There was no reason to feel down, she told herself sensibly. He’d told her at the outset that he worked twelve-to sixteen-hour days in the summer months. In fact, that was one of the selling points for this trip. They wouldn’t be together a lot, which meant they wouldn’t be constantly battling the chemistry between them.
She was in bed, listening through the window screens to the waves breaking on the shore when she finally realized why that low feeling persisted. The man who’d answered the phone had said another woman had phoned for Zach the previous day.
Who was she, and what did she mean to Zach? How much did she mean to him?
Kristin rolled onto her side and tried to put it out of her mind. Silly, class-ring-on-a-gold-chain jealousies were natural, given their past. They didn’t mean anything.
She was still telling herself that when she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
A loud noise shattered Kristin’s sleep, and she sat upright in bed. Instantly on edge, she mentally retraced her steps before retiring. She’d locked the doors, locked the windows, pulled the blinds—
Then she caught the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and smiled. No self-respecting thief would stop to make coffee while he was burglarizing a house. Zach was home.
Zipping herself into her long hunter green robe, Kristin went out to the living room. She halted abruptly in the doorway.
A warm, gentle feeling welled up inside of her as her gaze rested on the softly snoring giant on the couch.
Zach was stretched out full-length, his neck and dark head at an awkward angle on the turquoise-and-coral throw pillows, his booted feet dangling off the edge of the sofa and scraping the floor. He held a coffee mug between his hands, and that mug rested precariously on his flat stomach.
Kristin moved quietly to retrieve the mug, noting the thick binder full of papers that had fallen between the sofa and coffee table—probably the sound she’d heard. As gently as she could, she eased the mug from Zach’s hands and put it on the table. The cup was still warm.
A tingle of attraction moved through her. From the black hair falling over his forehead to the dark stubble on his jaw, to his booted feet, he was everything a man should be. Kristin watched his black T-shirt rise and fall with his deep respirations. The insecure boy she’d known was gone, replaced by the confident, mature man he’d become.
Her gaze returned to his feet. And before she could decide if it was advisable or not, she’d picked up the heavy binder and placed it on the table, then dropped to her knees to loosen his laces and cautiously slip off his boots. Kristin pulled gently at his damp white socks to give his toes more room, feeling her heart soften as she looked again at his slumbering features.
Did she dare adjust the pillows under his head? He was bound to wake up with a stiff neck if he stayed in that position all night, wasn’t he?
Creeping silently to his side, she bent down.
His gray eyes o
pened.
Jolted, she stepped back, heat flooding her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just— You looked so uncomfortable lying there like that, I thought I should—”
Smiling tiredly, Zach sat up and pulled a pillow onto his lap, then planted his elbows there and rubbed his face. “No problem. Thanks for caring. I didn’t plan to fall asleep…just wanted to rest my eyes for a while. Guess I zonked out.”
“Guess so,” she replied, still feeling awkward. “Did things go well with Mrs. Hart?”
“For the most part. She’s hanging in there with us, but now she wants the floor plan changed. That’s what I was working on when you phoned—cost estimates for the extra lumber and materials we’ll need. I still have a few calls to make when the building supply houses open in the morning.”
“You’re being incredibly understanding about the changes she wants.”
He released a dry laugh. “No, I’m being incredibly greedy. I told you she has rich friends who might need a contractor some day. I’m willing to jump through a few hoops to keep her happy.”
Kristin returned his smile, thinking that a simple grin shouldn’t make her feel so bubbly and joyful inside. “I should go back to bed and let you get some sleep,” she said. “I imagine tomorrow will be another early day for you.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Feeling like a hamster on a little wheel?”
He grinned again. “It’s the only way to build a business.”
“I suppose so. Well…good night.”
“’Night, Kris. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too.”
When Kristin had disappeared behind the guest room’s closed door, Zach released a long, pent-up breath. He’d woke up the second he felt her take away his coffee mug. Then he’d lain there with all of his senses keyed as she’d fiddled with his laces and slipped off his boots.
He’d never dreamed that toes could be an erogenous zone. Grateful he’d had a pillow handy, he took it off his lap and tossed it on the far corner of the sofa. Then he doused the lights, went to his room, and flopped into his big, empty bed.
Every time he looked at her, he wanted her. And if his radar was working even a little, Kris was having some of the same feelings. But she was here to clear her head, and he knew the primary forces fueling his desire were memories and a long period of abstinence. He had to stay away from her.
It was going to be a long, miserable night.
The night was longer and more miserable than he expected. At six o’clock, bleary-eyed and still needy, Zach tapped on Kristin’s door to say goodbye.
“Come in,” she said clearly, and he wondered if she’d slept badly, too.
Poking his head inside, he smiled as she sat up and pulled the sheet to her chest. In the faint light of morning, her hair was tousled, and her Yankees dorm shirt hung off her right shoulder. She tugged it back up.
“Leaving already?” she asked. “Seems like you just got home.”
“You know what they say—no rest for the wicked.” The fresh smells of peaches and salt air permeated the room, making his battered nerve endings vibrate. “We’ll go out for dinner tonight. For sure.” Her smile started a tickle, low in his stomach.
“I’d like that.”
“Good. I would, too.” He nodded at the mayonnaise jar full of shells on her nightstand, and against all sane thought, walked to her bedside. “These are what you found, huh?”
Lifting the jar, he tipped it to the sunlight coming through the blinds. “Pretty shells—crummy container.”
“I know. When I get back home, I’ll put them into one of the apothecary jars I have at my…shop.” She stopped abruptly, and tears welled in her eyes. Then she said in a falsely bright tone, “Well, maybe not.”
Torn, Zach looked down at her. He wanted to hold her, but that was a bad idea. He knew how quickly comforting could become something else. It had happened before, and she’d pretty much told him she didn’t want any more of it. As long as she kept up a brave front, he could keep his distance. “It’ll all work out.”
“Will it? I don’t know.”
“But I do,” he said sincerely. “You’ll rebuild, and your new shop will be everything the old one was, and more. Because this time, you’ll choose everything from the floor coverings, to the ceilings, to the design and exterior of the building. And you’ll find pieces even more beautiful than the ones you lost. Prettier vases, prettier dolls, prettier—”
Zach swore beneath his breath as the tears he’d tried to discourage splashed over her lower lashes. A moment later, he was holding her while she sobbed and wondering why he hadn’t been bright enough to just change the subject.
“I hate this!” she sobbed. “I thought I was finished crying!”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Crying doesn’t accomplish a thing. It’s stupid and weak.”
Zach wrapped her more tightly in his arms, feeling a depth of compassion he hadn’t felt in a long time. But like her mini breakdown after the fire, she pulled herself together quickly. He was almost disappointed when she did.
“I tried my architectural skills yesterday while you were gone,” she said, daubing at her eyes with the tissue he handed her from the box on the nightstand. “I’m no threat to the professionals, but I do have some ideas someone might be able to improve upon.”
“If you have a starting point, the rest is easy.”
She released a disbelieving laugh, and reaching out, he wiped a stray tear away. “Have some faith.”
“I do. Most days.”
He knew what she meant. He’d had days like that, too. Days when he’d wanted to grow up, get out, make a better life for himself. Now here he was, moderately successful and living in an oceanfront beach house…and sitting inches away from the most desirable woman he’d ever known. She turned him inside out. Even with tears in her eyes and a red nose.
That gut-gnawing attraction moved through him again. Worse, he saw the same awareness coalescing in her eyes. It was the touching, the holding…the memories. For several seconds, they held each other’s gazes. Then, sighing and calling himself a fool, Zach pushed to his feet and backed away. If he did anything about this, they’d both regret it afterward.
“I’d better hit the trail. Dan and the guys will be wondering where I am. See you around six.”
“I’ll be here,” she said with a tight smile.
Fifteen minutes later, Zach strode inside the already sweltering, two-room trailer, kicked a pair of sandy work boots away from the door, then went to his desk and collapsed into his office chair. The desktop was still strewn with floor plans and estimates, the paper mess tenting his coffee cup. It all swam before his eyes.
All he could see was Kristin looking so sweet and sexy in that bed. All he could feel was his body rising willingly to the occasion. He let out a wistful blast of air. He was learning more than he ever wanted to know about restraint these days. Thank God they’d be going back to Pennsylvania soon.
The door swung open. Zach glanced up as Dan Perkins lumbered inside, letting the screen door bang shut behind him. He looked rough around the edges, eyes bloodshot, but not from booze. Dan was a six-foot-four, three hundred pound tee-totaler whose tastes ran to cheeseburgers and pizza, and who was nearly as dedicated to the company as Zach was.
Dan pulled his hands down over two days’ worth of whiskers and stared soberly. “Don’t you sleep at all?”
“I got a few hours. You?”
“Six. Why in hell do you look better’n me?”
Zach chuckled and started straightening his desk. “I shaved.”
Ambling into the small kitchen, his foreman pulled coffee and filters from a marred cupboard. “I can’t imagine you gettin’ any sleep at all with a woman living in your house.”
Zach stiffened, but kept his voice casual. “You slept and there’s a woman living in your house, too.”
“No, there’s a wife living in my house. Big difference. By the time
Patty gets the kids to bed at night, she’s ready to go to sleep, not to bed.” He grinned brashly then, his whiskers bristling. “But that’s okay. The kids’ll grow up someday, then we’ll have some time for each other again.”
Zach couldn’t be that open about his life. Fleeting and inconsequential as his relationships were, they were private. He particularly wouldn’t talk about Kristin because she… He froze for an instant, then finished his surprising thought. Because she meant too much to him.
Gathering the scattered papers, he clicked on the computer to his right and forced a grin, while thoughts of her knotted his gut all over again. “You know what turns me on, Danny boy,” he said. “Oak flooring and vaulted ceilings.” The screen came up, icons bright. “Now let’s see if we can find those brass fixtures Mrs. Hart’s so hot to have.”
Kristin winced as Chad’s voice on the phone line slid upward in disbelief. “Where are you calling from? I don’t recognize the number in the caller ID window.”
“I’m in North Carolina. I’m staying with Zach for a few days.”
Chad fell silent. When he spoke again, his tone was cool and controlled. “I see. Have you completely lost your mind?”
“It’s not what you think,” she hurried to say. “I needed to get away for a while after the fire, and since he was coming back here to take care of a problem, he invited me to come along. It was a friendly gesture, nothing more.”
“Right.”
“Chad, I don’t want to debate this. I phoned to see if there was anything new on the fire. I would have called the firehouse, but I didn’t think anyone would be there to answer the phone.” The men of Wisdom’s volunteer fire department worked at other jobs until an emergency arose.
“You called because of the fire? That’s it? You weren’t even planning to let me know where you were? I’ve been worried sick about you for the past two days.”
“I—I’m sorry,” she answered, guilt creeping in.
“Didn’t you realize that if you disappeared right after a suspected arson, I might think you’d been harmed?”
Kristin squeezed her eyes shut, knowing her oversight had been inexcusable. “No, I didn’t even consider it. I really am sorry. The trip came up so suddenly I guess I wasn’t thinking about much else. Is there any news on the fire?”
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