by Lucy Monroe
No. She’d been jealous, but it was a sexual jealousy. That was all. Not love. Never again. No way.
She shifted so she could pet both Princess and Alexander as she thought about her time over at Grant’s.
He had a rule against kissing her.
He’d wanted to have Carlene for dessert.
How could Zoe compete with a woman who spray-painted herself into her clothes? Even if she could compete physically, did she want to? She’d thought she did, but if her behavior tonight was an indication of how she might respond when the physical relationship ended, she knew she couldn’t risk it.
Not when it meant risking her friendship with Grant.
She’d really messed up, and she was scared to death she was going to lose her best friend. Tears that she hated to shed in front of others trickled down Zoe’s face.
Grant loved her like a sister, and if she was smart he always would. If she tried to force him into a relationship he did not want, she would lose him. The cold that had begun to dissipate rushed back with arctic force. She would not lose the only person in her life who accepted her for who she was.
First thing tomorrow, she’d call Grant and apologize. Then she’d start looking more seriously for a place to live. He was the very best friend she had in the world, and the time had come for her to start acting like it.
Grant scraped the last of the uneaten dinner in the garbage. Why had he let Zoe leave believing he’d wanted to play dessert games with Carlene? The look of disappointment on her face had slammed into him like a drunk on Saturday night at the Dry Gulch.
One thing he had always taken for granted was Zoe’s admiration. He would never forget the heady sensation of her adoration that first time he had met her and rescued her pet cow from being sold for beef. It had not been long before he had gotten addicted to that adoring gaze, and darned if he would not do just about anything to see that look in Zoe’s eyes.
What demon had prompted him to tell Zoe his personal life was none of her business? All he’d had to tell her was that the whole dessert thing had been Carlene’s little surprise and he had not been interested. Instead, he had as much as told Zoe that he’d planned to follow through with it. Hell, he had even implied a relationship, when that was the last thing he wanted with Carlene—or any other woman for that matter.
He finished wiping the countertops and stove. The kitchen was back in order. If only the same were true for his life. He did not know what was going on with him and Zoe, but it was going to stop. He hated fighting with her.
He looked at the clock above the stove. It was only nine. Making a decision, he grabbed his jacket and car keys. He stopped briefly in the family room and selected a video. The entire evening did not have to be a waste.
A trip to the all-night donut shop in town and forty minutes later, he stood on the Pattersons’ front porch steps. He rang the doorbell. The wind whipped against his hair and batted against his wool-lined denim jacket. She did not answer. Her truck was in the drive. He rang the bell again. No lights were visible from the front of the house. Maybe she was asleep.
He was about to turn around and leave, disappointment an almost palpable taste in his mouth, when the door opened. Zoe stared at him through the screen, making no attempt to unlatch the door.
He smiled at her. Lifting the orange and white bag in his hand, he said, “I’m here for a truce.”
She pushed open the screen door and stepped back. He looked down at her and felt like swearing. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and telltale moisture still clung to her cheeks.
She had been crying and it was his fault. He dropped the pastry bag on the hall table. “Oh, Zoe.” He gripped her arms and pulled her against his chest, sliding his hands to her back. She remained stiff against him, but he was grateful that she did not attempt to pull away. “I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”
Sobs erupted against his chest. “It’s my fault. What you do with your women is none of my business.”
Hearing that statement did not make him feel better. Pulling away from Zoe, he forced her to meet his eyes. “I was not going to have dessert with Carlene.”
If anything, her tears fell faster. “It doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business. I’m just your friend. You don’t owe me any explanations.” The words came stuttering out between hiccupping sobs.
Just a friend? When had Zoe been relegated to just a friend in his life? She was the one person he trusted above all others. Not able to stand the sight of her tears, he pulled her back against him. “Querida, please stop crying.”
“I’m trying.”
She took several deep breaths. He rubbed her back, attempting to comfort her. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t trust anyone like I trust you.”
“That makes it worse,” she wailed. She broke away from him and backed up until she met the wall. Narrow, the hallway only afforded a few feet of distance between them. “You trusted me and I ruined your date.”
Feeling like he did not know the script, he demanded, “What are you talking about?”
“I left Bud’s cage door open.”
What? “Why?”
“Because I was jealous of Carlene.”
“I can’t believe this.”
She looked miserable. “I know. It was a despicable thing to do, and now Bud’s lost. He could be anywhere, freezing his little paws off.”
More likely in Grant’s walls somewhere, eating his wiring. “We’ll find Bud. That’s not what I was talking about. I can’t believe you were jealous of Carlene. She’s just a date. You are my best friend.”
Zoe’s eyes locked on to his. “Am I?”
Furious that she could doubt their long-standing bond, he stalked over to her. He stopped when his boots met her bare toes. Moving his face inches from hers, he spoke, shooting his words out like bullets. “You might drive me right up a wall with your melodrama. You might piss me off royally when you refuse to let me drive you to town. None of that changes the fact that you are one of the most important people in my life.”
“Thank you.” She gave a half-smile and wiped at the tears on her cheeks with her hands. “I think.”
“For the record, I am not interested in playing dessert games with Carlene.”
Zoe’s smile blossomed to a grin. She looked down at the bag on the table. “Donuts?”
He returned her smile. “Yeah. Your favorite—toasted coconut.” He pulled a video case from his coat pocket and waved it in the air. “Movie.”
“The Quiet Man?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“You really aren’t mad at me about Bud?”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh.”
“Okay.” Zoe turned around and headed toward the back of the house.
Grant grabbed the donuts and followed her. When she passed the entrance to the living room, he stopped. “Where are you going?”
“To the bedroom. I moved the VCR in there earlier.”
“I’ll move it back to the living room for you.”
“Why bother?” She turned around to face him, her tearstained cheeks causing guilt to tug at him. “It’s already set up. Why not just watch it in there?”
Because he did not want to torture himself. Not about to admit that to her, he shrugged. “Be more comfortable in the living room.”
Shutters came down in her eyes. She nodded. “You’re probably right. You set up the VCR while I put on some sweats.”
He did not like the emotionless expression on her face, or the flat tenor to her voice. She was slipping away from him again, and that scared the hell out of him. “Forget it. We’ll watch it in your room.”
When she remained silent, he added, “If you fall asleep, I won’t have so far to carry you.”
She looked at him, serious as a heartbeat. “I won’t fall asleep.”
“I was just teasing.”
Her smile looked forced. Damn, he had to get things back to normal with them. Taking long strides, he passed her by. Grabbing he
r wrist, he towed her behind him. “Come on, niña. You’ve got a date with the Duke.”
He did not stop until he got to her bedroom. Doing his best to ignore the effect the sight of her rumpled sheets had on his libido, he tossed the donut bag on the bed. “You break out the donuts. I’ll set up the video.”
She laughed a Zoe laugh. A cascading breath of amusement, sweet with joy. His heart tripped at the sound and he thought the torture of watching a movie next to her tempting body would be worth that one giggle.
She dove onto the bed and whisked the covers over her bare thighs. He nearly let out a sigh of relief when the supple limbs disappeared beneath the quilt. She opened the bag and pulled out two napkins, placing the pastries on them. He set up the video and then joined her on the bed, grateful for the covers between him and Zoe’s enticing legs.
She snuggled next to him and munched on her donut. They watched the opening credits roll in silence. As the movie started he heard her say quietly, “Thank you.”
He turned his head, but could only see the top of her hair. “For what?”
“Being my friend. I promise not to do anything else to jeopardize our friendship.”
Something about the way she said it tugged at him. “You could feed my new ropers to Maurice and it would not jeopardize it. It might jeopardize your life, but not our friendship.”
“My demise would seriously hamper our relationship.”
So would throwing her on her back and making love to her enticing body. He forced down his raging desire and remembered that fact as she shifted to a more comfortable position next to him. It was going to be a very long movie.
Two hours of torture later, Grant was still castigating himself for choosing a video they both knew so well. It had done nothing to distract him from Zoe’s proximity. Her laughter at the final scene choked off mid-giggle as she yawned hugely, covering her mouth with her hand.
She turned to face him. “You’d better head home. I need to get some sleep if I’m going to look for a place to live tomorrow.”
“Got any leads?”
“No. Not many people want to rent to a zookeeper.”
“You are not a zookeeper.”
She yawned again. “Thanks.”
He stood up and then walked over to the VCR. Popping out the video, he asked, “Why don’t you just buy a house?”
Zoe looked at him, and unfathomable sadness settled in her eyes. He wished he understood it. What was making her so unhappy? “I told you, a teacher’s salary does not stretch to a heavy mortgage.”
“You know I’d help you.”
She just looked at him.
“Okay, what about your parents? They’d help out with the down payment and you know it.”
“The same parents who aren’t coming home to spend Christmas with me?”
He felt the pain he saw in her eyes. “Yes.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Look, even if I wanted to buy a house, this is the worst time of year to find one. Even if I did find one, it would not close before the Pattersons return. I need a place to live now.”
He knew she was right. “You could stay at my place until your house closed.”
Zoe’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve been through this. I seem to remember you saying something about unprecedented damage to my reputation.”
He grew uncomfortable under her pointed gaze. “I’m sure we could think of something.”
“Something like an apartment complex that allows animals?”
He picked up the now empty pastry bag and wadded it up. He tossed it in the garbage and then turned to face her again. “I’ll let you get your beauty rest, then.”
She nodded, clearly ready to do just that.
He stopped at the door. “I could take you. I need to go into town tomorrow and apologize to Carlene anyway.”
She pondered the question a lot longer than he’d expected. He wanted to demand what was taking her so long to decide if she wanted his company, but something held him back.
“I guess that would be okay. If you are sure you want to.”
Stung by her lackluster attitude toward spending time with him, his response came out more sharply than he’d intended. “Don’t sound so happy to have my company.”
She smiled sleepily at him. “Go home. You’re tired and cranky.”
She was probably right. What else would explain his current bad mood? “I’m going. What time do you want me to pick you up?”
She looked at the clock on the VCR and then back at him. “Not too early.”
“Fine. You going to come lock the door behind me?”
She groaned, but got out of bed. He wished he had not said anything. Her oversized sleepshirt draped off nipples that had hardened when she’d slipped out from the warm cocoon of blankets. He could not drag his eyes away from the sight of the hard nubs pressing against the stretchy fabric.
His hand itched to reach out and brush first one and then the other. Then he would cup the fullness around them and caress it until she moaned like she had on his couch and rubbed her delectable body against his. He would then slide his hands down to caress the smooth skin below the hemline of her shirt, letting his fingertips glide under to touch the fleshy curve of her behind. His breathing grew ragged and he felt his penis pressing against the buttons of his fly.
“Grant?”
He shifted his unfocused gaze to her face and tried to make out her expression through the passionate haze blurring his vision. “Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
The genuine concern in her voice snapped him into focus. What the hell was he thinking? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”
She cocked her head to one side and looked at him. “Are you sure?”
He kept his eyes firmly on her face. “Yeah.”
He turned and headed for the front door. She followed him, her bare feet slapping against the ceramic tile of the hall.
They said goodnight at the door, and it took more self-discipline than getting out of bed at the crack of dawn to muck stalls not to kiss her soft lips before he turned to leave.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ZOE stumbled into the kitchen, only half awake. Staying up watching The Quiet Man with Grant might not have been the smartest thing to do last night.
She hated apartment-hunting. Grant was right. She needed to buy a house. It was ridiculous to hold onto the belief that buying a house was something you did after you were married and had started talking about having a family.
Even if she found homes for all her pets, like she had for Bud, she knew it wouldn’t take long to get herself back into the same predicament. She had no desire to live alone, and didn’t like being limited on the number and type of animals she kept.
She slumped in the kitchen chair. She had been saving for a trip to Europe since her first paycheck. Her dad would say that was impractical. Maybe it was time to earmark that money for something more lasting and practical.
Something like a place to live.
Even with her savings, she didn’t have enough for a decent down payment. But Grant had been right about something else too. Her parents would help her. If she asked. That was a bridge she’d have to cross later. She still needed to find a rental. It would take a miracle to find a house to buy, close on it and move in before the Pattersons returned.
She stood up, fumbled for the coffeepot and then filled it in the sink. Opening the canister of coffee she had brought with her, her nose perked at the vanilla nut aroma. Princess and Alexander rubbed against her legs.
She couldn’t imagine life without her cats. “Morning, guys. Want some coffee? No? You don’t know what you’re missing.” Zoe turned on the coffeepot. The sound of water filling the filter chamber lifted her spirits.
She opened a can of cat food and split it between Princess and Alexander’s dishes. “How about breakfast?”
The cats walked regally to their dishes and sniffed delicatel
y at the food before condescending to eat. Zoe smiled. “One of these days I’m going to give you some off-brand cat food and watch in glee when you eat it without being able to tell the difference.”
Her pets ignored the empty threat.
She poured herself a cup of coffee, feeling decadent when she added flavored creamer. She took a sip, and savored the sweet concoction as its warmth slid over her tongue. Sighing with pleasure, she locked both hands around the steaming mug. Taking a few more sips, she gradually woke up.
Time to get a move on. She pulled the newspaper she had brought from town out of her book bag. Spreading it over the table, she searched for the rental ads. After circling as many likely possibilities as she could find, she started calling.
Twenty minutes later, she groaned in frustration as she crossed off the fifth ad in a row. No pets. Someone in this community must allow pets.
She needed a break. Time to shower and dress.
The hot spray felt heavenly against her body. She stood for several minutes, relaxing under the jets of water. She lathered her hair, enjoying the floral scent of her shampoo.
The sound of pounding penetrated her consciousness.
Someone was at the door. Grant.
Muttering an expletive that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap as a child, she stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a bath towel and wrapped herself in it. Rushing to the door, she cursed Grant’s lousy timing.
The doorbell rang, and Zoe frowned. “Hold on. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Why was he being so impatient? It had to be pretty obvious she had not gone anywhere. Her truck was still outside. Flinging open the door, she said, “Jeesh. You didn’t need to pound the door down. I was in the sho…”
Her words trailed off when she realized that it was not Grant standing on the doorstep, but Tyler.
“Zoe, am I glad you are here. I need your help.”
Apparently oblivious to her state of undress, he shouldered past her into the kitchen. “Jenny isn’t speaking to me. You’ve got to fix it.” He sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she breaks up with me.”