Secretly Smitten (18 page)

“You can ask for help, Zoe. If there are any questions you have about running the business or what kind of numbers you need to make it work, that’s my specialty. I can help you.” He breathed in and exhaled deeply before he pulled the car back onto the road.

She didn’t know what to say. She feared if he looked at her business plan, he might think it looked like a creation in color crayons meant for display on the refrigerator.

“You’ll ask for my help if you need it?”

She nodded. She wrapped her arms around herself and gripped her upper arms, aware that this handsome stranger now knew more about her fears for Cupid’s Arrow than her entire family put together. She felt exposed. “I have plans for the business. I’m—it’s—”

“Zoe, show me someone who isn’t scared to start their own business and fly on their own without a steady paycheck, and I’ll show you a crazy person. Give yourself credit. It takes time and commitment to get a business going. I don’t want to take the wind out of your sails, but there’s more you’ll come up against. The electrical is the start, but you take it one step at a time, and before you know it you have a viable business.”

“How many times did you give that pep talk at a Rotary meeting?”

He pointed at her playfully. “You!”

As they took the long road toward the lake, her pulse quickened and she searched for something more to say so that their time wouldn’t come to an end.

“I can’t believe that you live out here by yourself and you were going to take the bus home,” he said.

“The bus drops me off on the main road and I run this gravel road. That way I don’t need to make time for exercise. Sometimes I have extra plates from my visitations, so it’s not ideal, but I’ve learned to wrap them in towels on days I’ll be running, or use only plastic. But I worry it’s not healthy to eat off of plastic plates, so I try not to do that.”

Why did she keep rattling off pointless information? Why did she suddenly want him to like her? What good would it do? He was a short-timer. Rationality overcame emotion and she straightened in the seat.

“You run on this deserted road by yourself? It doesn’t worry you?”

“Well, it didn’t until you mentioned it!” She smiled at him. “I’m kidding you. It doesn’t scare me. I know Smitten so well, and I do carry pepper spray in the event that I ever meet with something less than desirable.” She lifted her bag, which rattled like she was a homeless woman with every possession she owned on her person.

“You’re telling me that if I attacked you, you could pull out the pepper spray from that giant bag and still have time to protect yourself? Go ahead. I’ll give you a thirty-second head start. Find your pepper spray.” Again he pulled the car to the side of the gravel road and lifted his brows in challenge. The lake glistened in the foreground as the sun’s last rays sparkled on its waters.

Zoe grew quiet, lost in its beauty. “I never get tired of that view. The pink of the sky against the lush greenery here. I almost have to pinch myself that I get to live here.”

William put his car in park and watched Zoe, who was lost in the heavenly view. “I agree,” he said.

“Did you know that I plan to run romantic dinner evenings on the train when it gets here?”

“If
I can get the train back to Smitten.”

“I believe you can. We all do.”

“It’s one of the things that attracted me most to the town. That, and the opportunity for big successes with a small budget.”

“I love the train,” she said, still staring at the lake. “The romance of it. Someone else is driving, and as a passenger you get to take in the view with someone special. I thought we’d run murder-mystery nights and have everyone dress up from a bygone era. Doesn’t that sound like a fun way to meet people?” She finally turned her gaze back to him.

“You have an old soul, Zoe.”

She blinked as she digested his comment. It was perhaps the first compliment to come out of his mouth that she couldn’t fling off with ease. She picked up the wooden turtle on his dashboard and ran her fingers across its belly. “What does the turtle mean?”

“My last temporary assignment was in Hilo. I told you that at dinner, right?”

She nodded.

“On my days off I used to go to the coast and take pictures of the turtles. They fascinate me. With all these temp jobs, they remind me that the turtle is always at home wherever he goes.”

“I live over there.” She pointed to the last cabin on the lake. Her long fingers caught his eye in their elegance, and he thought if any woman could make a man stay put, it was Zoe Thomas. Even in her holey jeans and oversized T-shirt, she possessed a quirky style all her own with a wispy scarf wrapped around her waist and short gray suede boots. She looked like a Hollywood star incognito for a weekend getaway.

He put the car in drive again and pulled up to the side of the gravel road in front of her lonely cabin at the end of the row. The sun was behind the mountain, and the brightness of the moon cast a deep blue hue over the valley.

“Looks like we’re out of daylight,” he said as she reached for the door handle.

“Yeah.”

“The ride goes faster with company. Do you need a lift to town in the morning?”

“No thanks.”

“I can come back for you if you’re worried I’ll leave too early.”

She shook her head. “Thanks again for the ride.” She looked down in her open palm and handed him back the wooden turtle. “The turtle is at home wherever he goes,” she echoed, but he didn’t understand what she meant by the remark.

He worried that if she left him now, she’d forget the warmth she’d shown him, and the initial chill would return.

“Zoe.” He reached for her. “Please. Let me get the door for you.” He clambered out of the car and around to the passenger door. As he opened it, she turned away from him to gather up her belongings. If he didn’t make his move, he’d regret it, and she’d go back to remembering why she didn’t like him.

He reached for her hand and helped her out of the car. The movement forced the canvas bag off of her shoulder, and its contents spilled out onto the gravel road. She immediately bent and he followed, grabbing up various cooking utensils and Tupperware boxes. They both stopped at the orange Jell-O salad remnants, which looked a deep violet under the moonlight as they jiggled on the pebbles.

“The one day my Jell-O doesn’t set right . . . I may have to turn the refrigerator up at the store.” She recovered. “When it’s legal to cook there and all.”

He lifted her chin away from the mess. “Show me the lake?”

She shook her head, and the last of the sunlight reflected off her dark tresses. “I shouldn’t. I have to get things ready for tomorrow.”

He felt the tug of her fears speaking for her and watched as she closed her eyes as if thinking on what might happen if she let him into her world. He slid the half-emptied canvas bag from her shoulder. “Let me walk you in.”

He plucked the rest of the items from the ground and put what was clean back into the bag.

“You don’t have to do that,” Zoe said.

He dropped the bag and all its contents again, then advanced toward her as though she might run. His palms wrapped around her cheeks. She lifted her chin toward him, and he bent to press a kiss on her lips. She returned his kiss and then pulled free and ran to her doorstep, leaving a trail of items on the overgrown lawn underneath the wooden rail fence that surrounded the property.

He collected them all and climbed the three steps to her log cabin, where he left the bag on the stoop under the porch light. “Good night, Zoe,” he said to the closed door. As he walked the short gravel path to his car, he stared back at the house, and a smile bloomed from every cell. Hawaii was the sea turtle’s home. Smitten was Zoe’s home. He wanted to understand what it took to call a woman like Zoe
home
.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Z
oe tossed and turned all night. He’d kissed her. Out of the blue. She hadn’t done anything to encourage him. Not that she could remember anyway, and she wasn’t the sort of girl who had that kind of come-hither look that made a man melt. Which made William Singer even more confounding than he already had been. She couldn’t erase the kiss from her mind. It hadn’t felt forward and obnoxious. It seemed . . . natural, which confused her to no end. And sweet.

The kiss put her into a kind of trance that lasted all night and well into the bright morning sunlight. She would have forgotten to exit the bus if Rod, the driver, hadn’t woken her from her reverie.

“Zoe!” he shouted. She looked up to see the other passengers waiting for her to exit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She looked at the faces waiting for her to make a move. “Thanks, Rod. I’ll see you tonight.” She hiked her canvas bag with the day’s groceries over her shoulder and padded down the steps.

A grin overtook her at the sight of her new business. Her new business, little Zoe Thomas’s new business. She saw her bicycle in the window and silently thanked Clare for taking care of the details. For some reason, she felt only lightness and happy thoughts at her vision. The fears had been banished. She’d like to chalk it up to prayer, but truth be told, she hadn’t gotten a lot of praying done thinking about that kiss. She crossed the brick street to the white clapboard storefront and headed down the alley to the back door. She unlocked the door and entered, breathing in the familiar musty scent. The interior of Cupid’s Arrow looked more like the inside of a barn than a retail space, though in a charming, romantic way. Its rough-hewn plank walls slapped with whitewash and rustic wood floors echoed back to another era when Smitten was a man’s town. A few bits of lace and some chandeliers had transformed the place to create an aura of romance for both men and women. Zoe dropped her bag on the counter and examined the open electrical boxes as though she had some idea of what she was looking at, but all she knew was that the exposed wires needed to be covered. With what, she had no idea.

Tess would arrive soon. She’d called the night before to tell Zoe what she’d been able to glean from Grandma Rose about her long-lost beau, and she’d agreed to pick up Arnold that morning. It took everything for Zoe not to blurt out that William Singer had kissed her, but the giddy emotion she felt bubble at the thought of sharing kept her from spouting off. If anyone heard her tone, they’d know her disdain for Mr. William Singer was something she had to work at.

Tess announced her arrival. “We’re here!” she shouted.

Zoe was washing her hands, getting ready to prepare the night’s dinner before she finished decorating the shop for that day. “Back here!” she shouted as she walked through the doorway to the front.

Arnold scuffled toward her with his walker. Zoe cringed with every step. “Arnold, be careful. I’m worried about you on these old planks. They’re not even.”

“Quit fussing. You’re like an old woman sometimes, Zoe. I may be old, but I’m not an invalid yet.”

She crossed her arms and sighed.

“Arnold and I were talking about David Hutchins,” Tess said, her eyes shining. “Grandma’s first love.”

“He served in the Korean War with my nephew.” Arnold nodded, still studying the walls and following the wires with his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Zoe said, feeling oddly disappointed.

“I’d forgotten. I told my son when he called last night that you girls were stirring up trouble from the past and he reminded me. After that, I called my nephew to see if he kept in touch.”