One of These Nights (31 page)

“The hell it is.”

“The hell it isn't.” She could feel her temperature rising. “You've moved past all that in some ways, but in others, not even a little. You hate being stuffed in that ‘big, woodsy ranger man' box, but you're scared to death to get outside of it. You're afraid life outside of the box is going to be some kind of enormous failure. That's what your biggest problem is,” Zoe continued. “You're scared that people like your mom and Sara . . . you're afraid they're right about you. So you reinforce the walls of that box and sit in it, and people like me get to try to pull you out. Well, you know what? I'm done.”

His eyes were impossible to read in the dark. He stared silently at her, and Zoe felt sick to her stomach. This wasn't a fight she wanted to have tonight. Or ever, actually. But some part of her knew it would always have happened. It was just a matter of when.

Every frustration she'd had with him welled up and spilled over. He was so much more than what he'd been told. But she couldn't force him to see it, much less to embrace it.

“That's it?” he asked quietly. “‘I'm done'? I know I should have told you she might be here. It was a dumb move. But I figured that my divorce, the affair, all of it was years ago, and it's nothing you need to deal with. We were all grown-ups about it.”

“Damn it, Jason, it's not about needing to deal with it. It's about
wanting
to.” She would have cuffed him upside the head to knock some sense into him if she'd thought for one second it would have helped get that stubborn expression off his face. “When are you going to get that I care about how you feel? I'm not just here for the good stuff. I'm here for the bad things, too, or I would be.”

“It's nothi—”

“Don't tell me it's nothing one more time,” she snapped. She pointed at him, a habit she'd picked up from her mother when she was at the end of her rope. “And don't ever tell me I've tried to change you. That pressure? Not coming from me. I didn't want you here to laugh at, or because I wanted to show you off like a shiny new toy. I invited you because I . . .” And even now, she couldn't say it. Jason wasn't the only one who was afraid of something. Zoe was desperately afraid she would say the words in her heart only to have them rejected . . . or worse, thrown back in her face. “Because I care about you,” she finished. Then she shook her head, looking around at the night lit by lamps and stars and a low-hung moon. She needed to get back inside, tend to her party, necessary even if all her interest in it had fled. She locked eyes with him in the dim light cast by the streetlights. “You go run off and tell yourself whatever you like, if it helps,” Zoe said. “But I only ever wanted one thing from you, and it wasn't turning you into somebody you aren't.” He stared stonily back at her, and Zoe felt her heart sinking into her toes.

He's really walking away,
she thought, and she felt the hot sting of angry tears prickling at her eyes. She couldn't do this right now, even if she never got another chance. She just didn't have any more fight in her tonight.

Jason's voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke again. They weren't words she wanted to hear. “I don't know what you want, Zoe.”

She sighed, dropped her head forward for a moment, and then shifted her weight from foot to foot. She was tired, right down to the bone, and she had a long night ahead of her yet. She thought wistfully of the tea her mama made her when she was feeling low, and of the big blankets on the featherbeds in her parents' house, and of the creek this time of year, and the still-sultry air.

“I just want
you
,” Zoe said. “The guy who was laughing and having a good time earlier. The one who belongs at this show because he belongs in Harvest Cove. Because he belongs with me.” It ought to be the simplest thing in the world, she thought sadly. And yet here they were.

“Damn it, Zoe, you have me,” he growled.

“No. I don't think I really do.” The air between them still crackled with anger, but Zoe took a step back, lowering her arms to disengage. Jason simply watched her, his wolf's eyes telling her nothing. She needed some time to sort all of this out. And, she suspected, so did he.

“Go home, Jason,” she said. “That's what I'm doing after all this.”

He looked past her, to the gallery stuffed with people having a much better time than the two of them were, and his jaw tensed. When he spoke, it was careful, slow. He was more upset than he was letting on. That, she thought, made two of them.

“Damn it, Zoe, we're not done talking about this. You don't understand.”

“Then
help me
understand.”

Jason's jaw flexed. “I don't . . . even know how to start.”

Neither did she, but she was so tired from trying to puzzle him out. When she spoke, Zoe tried to sound cool, so much cooler than she felt. “Then we've talked enough for one night. I have to get back. You want me, I just told you where to find me.” She looked at him a moment longer, willing him to say the one, simple thing that would heal every crack in what they'd been building together. But there was only silence, and then a sigh.

“Fine. Whatever you want,” he said. “I'll see you.” He turned and stalked away without another word, and Zoe had a single, wistful thought before she did the same.

If only.

H
e needed air.

Jason walked down his road, shoulders hunched into his coat. The air was brisk, the sky a shade of gray that perfectly matched his mood. His leg was tired and sore, but just feeling it working again was more than enough to keep him from complaining. Rosie pranced ahead of him, nose up to sniff the breeze, panting as though she hadn't a care in the world. He was glad one of them felt that way.

He hadn't been able to sleep, tossing and turning and finally managing to doze at about four a.m. It hadn't lasted, and he had enough coffee in his system this morning that slicing open a vein would probably smell like Brewbaker's, the coffee shop downtown. It hadn't perked him up any. Though Zoe would probably tell him that Ents just weren't hardwired for perky.

Zoe.
He shouldn't have left last night. He knew it now, and he'd known it almost as soon as he'd walked through his door. He'd gone there because he wanted her. He'd left because he was . . . in the way, he told himself. Or because he didn't want to have to socialize anywhere near Vane Duvall.

He told himself these things, but by three a.m., he was too tired to do anything but cut through his own bullshit. He didn't give a damn about Vane or Sara or the divorce anymore. She was right.

As soon as Sara had found him last night, it had been like stepping into the past. Not in what he'd once felt for her, but in how it had felt to lose her. To know that nothing he might do would ever be enough to have what he most wanted—a love that lasted, a family, a real home. In those moments, all he'd been able to see was Zoe. And instead of putting that ugly rush of nostalgia where it belonged, he'd panicked. He'd let his own fear convince him that nothing had changed.

But everything had changed. And right after he got Rosie home he was heading over to her place to tell her that. He just had to figure out how to do it without getting the door shut in his face.

His steps slowed as Jason finally let himself think the words that had been hovering at the back of his mind since around the time she'd pulled out that damn notebook and given him a pop quiz about his life over enough Chinese food to feed an army.

I love her.

And right on the heels of that:
Shit.
He had really screwed things up.

His phone went off in his pocket, startling him. It was early on a Sunday for anybody to be trying to get ahold of him. He had a brief, wild hope that it was Zoe . . . but the number, while familiar, wasn't hers.

“Jake?”

“What are you
doing
?”

His cousin's voice was grim, annoyed, and about as unsunny as it ever got. It wasn't hard to guess what he was calling about. But the possibility of a lecture made Jason far less interested in acknowledging it.

“Walking Rosie. You?”

“Reassuring my wife that you're not going to stomp Zoe's heart into a million pieces because then she'll have to kick your ass. That's a direct quote.”

Jason thought about slim, not particularly tall Sam and had to try not to smile, despite everything. “I'd like to see her try, just for the laughs, but no.”

“Then I repeat, what are you
doing
? Is this about Sara?”

“No. It's about me being a stubborn jackass. I'm . . . working through it,” Jason replied.

“You want to define that for me?” Jake asked.

“No. I just want to head to Zoe's after this and try to fix what I broke. I panicked. The stupidity snowballed.” He wished it sounded a little funnier, but he couldn't find a lot of humor in it. This was the first time he hadn't had some sense of where he stood with Zoe. The relief that came from finally just accepting how he felt vanished in the face of the knowledge that he might have done irreparable damage.

“You're not going to find her there,” Jake said.

“Work, then?” But there was something in his cousin's voice that said the situation had changed. In his weird, twisted quest to prove to himself that he and Zoe couldn't possibly work, he had finally made headway. With her. “Where is she, Jake?”

“She went home.
Home
home. Sam and Aaron are running things while she's gone. That's what I called to tell you. That's why I wanted to know what you were trying to do. She left early this morning.”

Jason stopped walking, closed his eyes. “Shit.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“How long is she gone for?” he asked.

“I don't know, and I'm not sure she does, either. Sam said she seemed tired and sad, neither of which is like Zoe. You did a number on her. You know I love you, man, but—”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” Jason took a breath. When he exhaled, a small vapor cloud appeared in the cold air. “I love her.”

He couldn't tell whether the sound Jake made was a groan, a relieved sigh, or some combination of the two. “Finally. You finally figured that out. Well then, will you get off your ass and go tell her that?”

“I'm not sure that's going to be enough.”

“You dumbass,” Jake said, but there was affection in it now. “What makes you think she wants anything else?”

All at once, Jason remembered the conversation he'd had with Tommy the other day. How his brother didn't seem to be capable of understanding how simple Jason's needs actually were when it came to the two of them. Tommy just never really listened. All he'd wanted was a brother.

All Zoe wanted was him. How many times had she told him that?

It wasn't a great feeling to realize he might have inherited a little of the pigheadedness floating around his branch of the family tree, but recognizing it was the first step to fixing it, he guessed.

“You're right,” Jason said. Jake had the audacity to laugh.

“Can you say that again so I can get a recording of it?”

“Not a chance.”

“Then do something about this big revelation. Sam can tell you where to find her if you let her yell at you first.”

“That seems fair.” But what he really wanted was to get home, throw some crap in a bag, and head out immediately so he could find Zoe and let her yell at him. Maybe if he called her . . .

No, that wasn't good enough. Not this time. She needed to understand exactly how much he wanted her in his life. Words wouldn't do it.

“Good. Then get your butt in gear. I'll see you soon.” He paused before hanging up. “She's good for you, you know. You can make a better family than the one you got.”

Jason smiled, even as his adrenaline kicked in, demanding he do something, find her,
now
. “It wasn't all bad,” he said. “I kept the good parts.”

“I'm blushing a manly blush right now.”

“Jackass.” Jason snorted. “I'll be over soon. And . . . thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Jason ended the call, then looked at the little dog who was very engrossed in sniffing a pile of soggy leaves. “Let's go get Zoe, girl,” he said. It was as though he'd lit a fire under her. At the sound of the name of one of her favorite people, the little dog wagged her tail furiously, barked, and tried to run farther down the road . . . in the wrong direction. With a soft huff of laughter, Jason got her turned around and set off at a brisk pace, long legs eating up the distance.

All he had to give her was everything. And this time, if he could just find her, tell her, Jason knew it would be enough.

*   *   *

Zoe leaned against the base of a tree, face turned up to the sun. A pair of mockingbirds tried to outdo each other with original songs somewhere overhead, and the cicadas buzzed lazily, the sound blending with the occasional croak of a frog. It might be fall back in New England, but here in Georgia even late September was full of long, sultry days and muggy nights.

She was in cutoff shorts and a tank top, her feet in some ancient flip-flops she kept here to bang around in. This was home, where she had nowhere to be and nobody to impress, and Zoe had felt it wrap around her like a warm blanket as soon as she'd stepped off the plane and into her parents' arms. That was when she'd finally let the tears go, all the tension she'd built up inside leaking out until she was blissfully empty.

He hadn't called. Her phone was currently stuffed in the bottom of a dresser drawer, and Sam had the house phone number in case anything big came up, but Zoe had still snuck a few peeks to see whether Jason had tried to get in touch yesterday.

Nothing. So she decided to take a break from her little electronic nightmare, at least for today, and just try to decompress. Maybe Jason was thinking. Lord knew he did enough of that. Too much, usually. And he would think through all of this as deliberately as he did everything else . . . because the man was Treebeard, and he wouldn't be hurried. Not for anything or anyone.

She sighed softly, willing all this tension away. James had dragged her out to the creek to go fishing, like they had when they were kids. About an hour into it, though, he'd gone back up to the house to get food and hadn't returned, which was also the same as when they were kids. But Zoe found the silence and the sunshine soothing, even if her thoughts traced a familiar path hundreds of miles away.

She heard footsteps, the snap of a twig, and didn't bother to open her eyes. “I hope you brought enough for both of us,” she warned him. “I'm not above tattling.”

“Your mom handed me a picnic basket. I think there's a whole pie in there. If that's not enough, I'm not sure what to tell you.”

Her eyes flew open. “Jason?” She whipped her head around to find him standing there in some of his ratty old cargo shorts and a Beltane Blues T-shirt, carrying a picnic basket and looking about as good as anything she'd ever seen. She blinked, wondering whether she'd fallen asleep, but he stayed stubbornly solid.

“I would have been here yesterday, but I figured flying was a better idea than trying to drive that many hours with my leg just out of the cast. Your brother came and got me from the airport,” Jason said. His eyes, glinting gold in the light, searched her face. “I hope that's okay.”

“He said he went to get lunch!” It was all she could manage to say. She couldn't quite believe that she was looking at Jason,
here
—that he'd come all this way. And that her family had known.

“I'm going to kill James,” she said. Jason winced.

“Zoe. I know you're angry with me, and you have every right to be, but please hear me out. I need to tell you that I love you—
oof!
”

She jumped at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him with a high-pitched cry and hanging on tight. She felt his arms come around her, felt him squeeze her tighter as he buried his face in her neck. This was all she'd wanted. This right here.

“I panicked,” he said. “I was an idiot.”

“I know you're an idiot,” she said, pressing kisses to his hair, his temples, his cheeks. “It's part of the reason I love you. I can't believe you came all this way! And so
fast
!”

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, pulling his head back to look at her. “That I'm slow? Ent-like, maybe?”

“No. Maybe. I kind of thought you'd
call
if you did anything.” She smiled and shook her head. “But this is so much better. How . . . ? Sam.”

“She loves you. And she knows I do, too. Or maybe she just got tired of Rosie barking at her while I tried to explain how much I love you. Either way, she told me how to get in touch with your parents. When I called that first time, I got James.” He smirked. “I like your brother.”

“I like him, too, when he's not sneaking around planning things behind my back. I might have to forgive him for this, though.” She kissed him again, on the tip of his nose. “Did you bring Rosie, too?”

“I almost did. She wanted to see you. She doesn't handle disappointment very well.”

“Like owner, like canine?”

“Something like that.” He kissed her chin, then her lips, lightly at first and then more deeply, drawing her into a slow and thorough kiss that had heat curling through her from head to toe. When he finally pulled back, her heart was pounding in her chest. It was the look in his eyes, though, that made the moment complete.

“Zoe,” Jason said, his voice the gentle rumble she heard even in her dreams, “I love you.”

She smiled, the words going straight to her heart. “You said that. I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of hearing it.”

“Good,” he said. “Because if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep saying it for, say, the rest of my life.”

She stilled, searching his face for some clue about whether he was saying what she thought he was. “You . . . would?”

“I think I've loved you since you threatened to chase me out of the gallery with your vacuum cleaner. You're beautiful and perfect and everything I ever wanted. Stay with me. Argue with me. Make me drink tea and let me hold you when you sleep. If not for me, do it for poor Rosie. She'd be lost without you.”

Zoe laughed, laying a hand on the side of his face. “For Rosie, huh?”

“Yeah. Though I'd prefer if you did it for me. I'll probably track in dirt and earn my nickname on a regular basis. I didn't get much of a family. It's hard for me to let people in. But when you left . . . well, I figured out that the only thing I'm really scared of is having to live the rest of my life without you. What we can make together is better than anything I ever left behind. Marry me, Zoe Watson.” Then he grinned. “Your mama promised she'd come for Christmas if you did.”

Zoe burst out laughing. “What is this, blackmail? How dare you offer me everything I ever wanted. Ganging up on me . . . I'm going to have to think about this.
Marry
you . . . Hang on, now.” She kissed him long and hard, love filling her up, making her complete in a way she hadn't realized she needed until she met Jason. The life she'd been building in the Cove was a wonderful one, but it had felt unfinished. She knew there was so much more to come now that she had him to share it with.