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Hook, Line, and Sinker

Page 16

by Shirley Holder Platt


  "Yeah, you did." She stopped pacing and sat beside him. She took his hand in hers. "I'm not ashamed of us, you know."

  "Uh-huh."

  "It's complicated."

  "Uh-huh."

  "It's just…"

  "You don't have to explain anything to me. I saw the way you reacted. We had a fling. Nothing more. Forget it." The hurt moved from his head to his heart. It was all he could do to keep from flinching.

  "Would you let me finish? I'm trying to tell you what I was thinking. You took me off guard. I wanted to answer honestly. My mind whirled. How could I say what I wanted to say? You might laugh."

  "I wouldn't have."

  "You don't know what I was going to say."

  "Tell me now."

  "I was thinking, 'How can I tell this man, who my family thinks I should hate, that I have fallen for him?' That's what I was thinking. How love complicates everything."

  "Love?"

  "Love. Yeah." She turned her head away, dreading his derision.

  "You love me? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yeah." She still wouldn't look at him, so he took her chin in his hand and turned her head toward him.

  "I ran away because I thought you were ashamed of me. You broke my heart. I didn't know how hard I'd fallen for you until that moment when I saw the look in your eyes."

  "Oh, Zeke. How did we screw this up so much?" A tear slid down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

  "I'm dying to kiss you now," he said, and she let him, gladly.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Zeke cracked an eye open. He was in the bedroom of his cabin, but something was different. The smell of bacon lingered, and the music wasn’t country. Had Sophie come? Was that reality, or had he dreamed her? The pillow beside him had a dent where her head had been. He pulled it to his face and inhaled her scent: sandalwood and roses. No one else smelled like her.

  She had found him. And she told him that she was in love with him. He felt like an idiot. While he’d been wallowing in self-pity because of her rejection, she’d been trying to find a way to tell him she loved him. He sat up, and the room spun. It would take more than a little nap to get the alcohol out of his system after a five-day drunk.

  In the bathroom, he splattered his face with cold water. The beard needed to go, so he turned the faucet to hot and lathered up. The tender skin underneath was bloody when he finished. He covered the nicks with torn pieces of toilet paper. He looked as bad as he had with the beard. His head pounded ferociously as he held onto the sink and stared at himself.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said.

  “I know.” Sophie had come in unawares.

  He spun around and almost fell as the room tilted. Sophie caught him by the arm and held him steady until his world settled. His stomach lurched, but he managed to hold breakfast down. She let him go and walked out of the room. He wanted to say something, but thinking hurt too much, and speaking was bound to make his head worse.

  From the other room, Sophie called, “When you’re able, we need to talk.”

  He went back to bed.

  ##

  “The office is a mess. Nobody can figure out the new website.” She sat facing him on the couch. The simple scoop neck top gave him glimpses of her cleavage, and the shorts revealed a tan on her long legs. He felt better after sleeping half the day and drinking two pots of thick coffee.

  “You should dress this way more often,” he said. His hand moved toward her, but she batted it away.

  “I’m trying to have a serious conversation,” she said, but the laughter in her voice told a different tale. He moved toward her. She moved further down the couch. He shook his head and noticed the headache had abated.

  “I left detailed procedures,” he said.

  “Well, we didn’t find them.”

  “When Gabe told me that we had a signed contract, I left so fast I forgot to send an email.”

  “Ah, that explains it.” She untucked from her position and went outside. She had a laptop under her arm when she returned.

  “Are you going to work now?” He knew she was a workaholic, but this surprised him.

  “No. You are. You’re going to rewrite that email and send it. They need help, and you’re going to tell them you’re sorry for all the confusion. They’ll get it first thing Monday morning, and you’ll have a meeting with them on Tuesday to make sure they understand everything. We’re taking Monday for ourselves. I hate Mondays anyway.” She stood over him, glaring. She booted up, signed in, and opened a window for him to sign into webmail. She put the computer in his lap and went to the kitchen while he composed his apology.

  He didn’t take long. He’d worked on that site for two months and knew it by heart. He’d prepared detailed instructions but forgot to give directions to the document. He hadn’t meant to leave anyone in the lurch. He’d thought of nothing but escape. He shook his head at himself and hit the send button.

  “Done.”

  She walked behind the couch and leaned over him. She put her hands on his shoulders and nuzzled his neck. He moved his head to the side, so she could find more skin to kiss. When she stopped, he sighed.

  “Why do your folks hate me? I didn’t know that until you told me. We used to play in your yard all the time.” He pulled her around the couch until she was sitting beside him.

  “Your great-grandfather developed the town.”

  “Yeah, I know. So?”

  “My great-grandfather was there first. He thought it should remain farmland. He resented the Harts from the moment they drove in. When they started building that big fancy house, as he always called it, he thought it was ostentatious. He would get apoplectic just thinking about how well off your family was compared to ours.” She curled her legs under her and watched him.

  “That was a long time ago.” He rubbed his face, and some of the paper came off in his hands. He crumpled them and put them on the coffee table. He noticed how clean the place was. Not a beer bottle in sight.

  “You didn’t have to clean the place,” he said.

  “Yeah. I did.” She smiled and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “My family holds grudges. The hostility was passed down from my great-grandfather to Gramps, to Pops, to Sean and me. Mother never fully bought into it. That’s why she let us play with you and your brothers, but made sure you guys were gone when Pops was due back.”

  “I wondered why he was never around. After we were grown, I thought you learned to be a workaholic from him. I never realized your mom had been protecting us.” She had her hair tucked behind her ears, and a strand had fallen forward. He moved it behind her ear. His hand trailed down her neck, to her shoulder, and to the top of a breast. Her breath hitched, and her eyes dilated slightly. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman as much as he did in that moment, but she needed to make the first move. He’d kissed her when still drunk, and she’d let him, but he wanted to make the next one count. She deserved more than stale breath and sloppy kisses.

  “Let’s go fishing.” He stood and pulled her to him. She pressed her body tight to his and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He smiled for the first time in days.

  They gathered equipment and drove the truck to the dock. No breeze stirred the water. Zeke could imagine himself like this, with Sophie in the sun, for the rest of his life. It was too soon to tell her he was entertaining such thoughts. They’d start their life together on the water. He kicked the motor up a notch and laughed when Sophie almost lost her sun hat.

  That night, he taught her to tie a lure. She was pretty good at it, for a first-timer. He missed his hat; thought he’d like to hang her first lure on it. He wondered if she’d burned it but was afraid to find out, so he didn’t ask. They made love on the floor because he didn’t have a change of sheets, and she refused to get in for a whole night. She fell asleep in his arms, and he covered her with a soft throw. He hoped she’d have pleasant dreams.
/>   His hips hurt when he awoke in the night, and his arm was asleep where her head blocked the circulation. He was happy, deep down, happy, though. So, he closed his eyes, told his bladder to calm down, and fell back to sleep with the woman of his dreams in his arms. They were together, and he planned to make up for all the trouble he’d caused. She snuffled quietly, and he breathed in contentment.

  They got up before the sun. He dared her, and she went skinny-dipping with him. They splashed and dunked each other like teenagers. Her laughter was a healing balm. He wanted to hold the day in his hand and treasure every moment. Her glistening body, the way the sun played in her golden hair, her head thrown back in a carefree laugh, these moments he’d keep in his heart always.

  She cooked for him. She was a terrible cook. The meatloaf was hard and burnt on the edges, the mashed potatoes were runny, and the gravy was lumpy. He ate with gusto, loving the fact that she’d tried. But he made the rest of the meals and decided he’d give her a cookbook for Christmas. She wore a tattered tee-shirt to sleep, and he thought she looked better than any woman he’d ever seen in a sexy teddy. All his thoughts were for their future. He even imagined kids. He thought that she would be a great mother. She was fierce and would teach them to be the same way. He hoped they’d have her eyes, her smile. He was gazing at her, deep in a daydream when she snapped her fingers.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Just enjoying you. You’re beautiful.” He ran his finger along the pulse point of her wrist and watched goosebumps arise on her arm. She shivered, and he was undone.

  The weekend passed quickly. Too fast for Zeke. He dreaded the office, the looks from Gabe, from his father. The stern lecture he was sure to get.

  “I don’t want to work there anymore,” he said out of the blue.

  “Then quit again. Ride out your two weeks. They’ll pass quickly.” She said it as if it were that easy. How could he explain the complicated relationship he and his father shared? It had been the same since Zeke could remember. Zeke tried, his father told him what a failure he was, Zeke tried harder. It was a vicious circle.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, it is. My father expects certain things from his kids, and especially me, as I’m the oldest. I have tried to live up to his idea of a good son all my life but can never seem to hit the mark with him. If I quit, it will convince him that I’m the failure he thinks I am.” He’d never said those words aloud. It was a sign of his trust that he’d open up to her about his family.

  “We all have to disappoint our parents at some point. I remember when I told Pops I was going to work at Hart Construction. He flipped out. I thought he’d have a stroke until Mom touched his arm and worked her magic on the man. He didn’t speak to me for weeks after I started there. It remains a topic we avoid at all costs. But I did it. I did what was best for me.” She kissed his forehead like his mother used to do when he’d hurt himself. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist, show her how much she meant to him, but she stood and stretched her arms over her head. She had a slight sunburn, and it made her glow.

  “It’s different for me.”

  “No. It’s not. Families are all crazy. You have to man-up.” She turned and walked out of the room, leaving him to his thoughts and fears. Could he leave the job for good knowing how it would make his relationship with his father worse than it already was? Could he simply walk away in the cold light of day without his anger driving him? Dare he go against the old man’s wishes? What ripples would that set into motion? It made his head hurt. He wanted to avoid the subject longer. They still had the night together. He got up and found her packing her bag.

  “Leaving so soon?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into him and let him kiss her shoulders.

  “I have plenty of time. I always like to be prepared ahead of schedule.” She turned in his arms, and soon he was lost in her once again. The devil take tomorrow, tonight was his and Sophie’s.

  Chapter Thirty

  He convinced her to go fishing one more time that evening. The sun sank low on the horizon as Zeke turned the boat back toward the dock. Sophie’s lure had worked for her, and she was anxious to cook the big mouth bass she’d reeled in earlier. Her delight as she held the fish for a photo was palpable. She was a convert. She now understood Zeke’s need to be out of the office and on the water. Their time at his cabin, after he’d sobered up, had been idyllic. She wanted to postpone the ride home until the last moment. She’d convinced Zeke to let her cook so that he would clean the fish. She stood beside him as they motored away from their favorite spot.

  “I don’t want to go back to town,” she said as she laid her head against his arm. “It’s so peaceful here. How long did you say you’ve had the cabin?”

  “Saw the ‘for sale’ sign on a fishing trip last year. Next time we’re out, I’ll take you on a hike. There are some great trails, and I’ve come across lots of whitetail deer while out there.”

  “Do you hunt?”

  “No. Never wanted to kill a deer. I won’t turn down venison sausage, though. Are you a hunter?”

  Sophie had been around hunters her entire life. Sean killed one or two deer every year, and the only argument she’d ever heard him have with his Patrice was over a hunting trip he took without her. She had her own rifle and was said to be a dead-eye. Sophie hoped Sean would remember that and not upset his fiancé too much after the honeymoon phase wore off. She wanted to keep her brother alive.

  “Not a hunter. I’d rather fish,” she said, “now that you’ve shown me the basics.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her close. She liked the feel of his arm encircling her. It gave her a sensation of being cared for, treasured even, that she was beginning to miss anytime they were apart.

  At the cabin, Sophie pan-fried the fish in butter and sprinkled it with lemon juice she’d found in a plastic container shaped like a lemon. The label indicated that it was from real lemons. Zeke complimented her on the food, a first for her, from anyone. She felt pleasantly domestic. She hadn’t worn spiked heels in a couple of days, and her feet weren’t hurting. She wasn’t looking forward to work clothes and the stress during the coming weeks. The lack of interest surprised her. She’d always let ambition drive her. Maybe it was time to throttle back.

  They moved together effortlessly to clean the cabin. She was learning to appreciate some of his country music. She especially liked the deep sexy voices of Josh Turner and Randy Travis. Zeke hung the broom in the hall closet and surveyed the room with his hands on his hips. She’d been loading the vehicles.

  “I think that’s it,” he said.

  “Ready to head out?” she tried to sound upbeat. There was no use letting her bad mood spoil his good one.

  “I’ll follow you. That way, if you start weaving, I’ll know you’re getting sleepy and can call to wake you up. It’s dangerous to drive in the dark on a full stomach.”

  She pulled her purse strap onto her shoulder.

  “Back to reality,” she said.

  That night at home, Sophie felt the loneliness Zeke’s absence left. She’d always been content to putter around her place alone, but now, she missed his smell, his humming, his teasing. She found it difficult to sleep, and when she did, her dreams were chaotic. She had never been a morning person, but on this particular day, she felt exhausted and unprepared for a workaday world. She stumped her toe on the dresser leg and couldn’t fit her foot into any of her heels. She opted for trousers and flat ankle boots with square toes. Not her usual look, but it would have to do. Neither she nor Zeke had communicated with anyone in the office after he’d sent his email, so she feared what they’d meet when they faced off with Tucker.

  She was the first one on her floor, so she made coffee and checked email. She found several messages from Gabe. One of the first things on her list was to talk to him. She owed him an apology for brushing him off earlier, and a thank you fo
r setting the record straight about her mistaken childhood memories. His story was the final straw that broke her resolve and got her into the car to find Zeke. She smiled at the memory of his lips on hers. She loved the way he took the time to teach her to build a lure, then to use it to catch fish. His patience had paid off for her, and she had found the one thing she liked to cook. She was lost in reverie when she heard Zeke open his office door across the hall.

  She walked over to say hello.

  “Got your email first thing this morning. The one you sent from the cabin about how to use the new website?”

  “Good. Maybe that’ll take some of the heat off my back today.”

  “Hope so. Have you spoken to Gabe or your father yet?”

  “Are you crazy? No way. I’ll wait until I’m called. My momma didn’t raise no fool.” He motioned for her to step inside.

  “I feel different,” she said.

  “In a good way?” he took her by the waist and pulled her in. She tilted her head back, and her eyes searched his.

  “Very good.”

  He kissed her softly.

  “You are shorter today. No heels?” He looked at her feet.

  “Stumped my toe this morning. Couldn’t get them on.”

  “Pity. I like looking at your legs when you wear those high heels.”

  “You could see them tonight, with or without heels,” she said. His eyes went dark, and she wanted him to kiss her again. She stood on her tiptoes, and just as their lips met, he groaned and turned his head. Gabe stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

  “No fraternizing at work, people. How many times must I say it? Zeke, in my office. Now.” He turned and stomped down the hall. Instead of jumping at his brother’s command, Zeke pulled Sophie closer and kissed her until her knees grew weak. She had her hands in his hair, loving the feel of the curls in her fingers.

 

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