Still the One (40 page)

So why the heck did being alone suddenly seem so lonely?

Katie slept in Gracie’s hospital room for the next three nights and kept a nearly constant daytime vigil, as well. Whenever
Zack would step into the room, she would leave.

Zack went to the boxing gym in Hammond and pounded on a punching bag, pretending it was the cretins at the high school, taking
another few swipes at the A-hole who’d raped Gracie, and finally throwing a few punches at himself.

On the fourth morning, the doctor caught both Zack and Katie in the hallway outside Gracie’s room. “I’m going to release Gracie
today,” she said. “She can get up to use the bathroom and take a quick shower, but other than that, she’s to stay in bed.
I don’t want her climbing stairs or walking unnecessarily. And she’ll need someone with her around the clock, because if she
has any bleeding, she needs to get to the hospital immediately.” The doctor looked at them. “It’s not going to be easy for
her. And it’s not going to be easy for you, either.”

Boy, that was the truth. And the way Katie was avoiding him was going to make it even harder. As the doctor walked away, Katie
started to head back into Gracie’s room. Zack touched her arm.

Katie froze, then slowly turned toward him. She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes, her expression exasperated. “What?”

Her clothes were rumpled, her hair was askew, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She was so beautiful it made his chest
hurt. “Kate, this is ridiculous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The way you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m just trying to give you space.”

The way she said it, all emotionless and sarcasm-free, hurt worse than snarkiness ever could. He wished she were angry or
indignant or at least snide. That would mean she still felt something for him.

“Kate, look—I blew it.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to deal with emotional things.”

“And whenever you don’t know how to deal, you leave.”

“It won’t happen again.” He looked at the floor. “I was wrong.”

“No, you were right. We needed a breather.”

His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I’ve had enough of one.”

“Well, I haven’t.”

He deserved that. It was only fair. He cleared his throat. “I’ve arranged my schedule so that I don’t have to travel until
after the baby is born.”

“I’m sure that will mean a lot to Gracie. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“I don’t want you to stay out of my way. I want us to go back to the way things were.”

She looked at him. For a moment, he saw a depth and breadth of pain in her eyes that nearly stopped his heart. “There’s no
such thing as going back,” she said softly.

He watched her disappear into Gracie’s room, and he stood there, wondering if he had put that pain in her eyes or if it was
all about Paul. He didn’t even know which would make him feel worse.

Megan:
What’s it like being homeschooled?

Gracie:
Pretty cool. Katie teaches social studies and biology, Annette teaches English and history, and Zack does trigonometry and
chemistry. I’m also taking an art course online.

Megan:
Do U still think your birth parents are hooking up?

Gracie:
No. They had a fight or something. When Zack comes in the room, Katie leaves. It’s really tense.

Katie opened the kitchen door, then bent and picked up the grocery bags she’d set down, pushing through the door backward.
“That wind is something else! And the sky is practically black. It looks like we’re in for one heck of a…” She turned around
to find Zack sitting at the kitchen table, his laptop open. She immediately froze.

“I—I thought you were Annette. I mean, she was here with Gracie when I left, so…”

Zack’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor. “I told her to go home before the storm hits.”

“Oh.”

He rose and came toward her. “Let me help with those.” Before she could protest, he’d taken most of the bags from her arms.

Her mouth went dry. Ever since Gracie had come home from the hospital two weeks ago, Katie had tried to keep her physical
distance from Zack. Just being in the same room with him unnerved her. She noticed things she had no business noticing—the
way his chest rose and fell as he breathed, the swirl of his hair at his crown, the shadow on his shaved jaw.

“Any more bags in the car?”

“No. That’s all.”

He set the bags on the counter and started unloading them. He lifted the gallon of milk and headed to the refrigerator.

It was an ordinary activity, yet it held her riveted. She watched his pectoral muscles shift beneath the cotton of his blue
polo shirt, watched the dusting of hair on his forearm catch the light, watched his hand curl around the handle of the plastic
jug. Memories of those hands—the way his fingers moved across her skin, the way the little callus on the inside of his palm
rasped the underside of her breast and the inside of her thigh—flashed through her mind, making her dizzy.

She swallowed hard and tried to act normal, whatever that was.

The silence was stilted. Painful. Stifling.

“How’s Gracie?” she managed.

“Sleeping now. She was kind of grouchy.”

“Can’t blame her. Staying in bed all the time must be awful.” Katie opened the pantry and put away a can of soup. “I’ll put
these away and then get out of your way.”

He moved forward and lifted a bag of fresh peaches. “You know, you don’t have to run off every time you see me.”

Yes, I do.
She silently removed a loaf of bread and put it in the breadbox.

“Gracie asked me why you were mad at me.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I acted like a jerk.”

“At least you were honest.”

He leaned against the counter and smiled. Oh, dear heavens—she’d forgotten about the wattage of his smile. It had a way of
melting her.

“She wanted to know what I’d done that was so bad you couldn’t forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” Katie said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I just don’t…”

There was that smile again, sneaking its way past her defenses. “Don’t trust me?”

Her lips curved of their own volition, an automatic reaction to his grin. “Something like that.”

“Is it really me?” His dimple winked at her. “Or is it yourself you don’t trust?”

They were slipping into dangerous territory, back into flirtation zone, back into their old teasing ways of verbal foreplay.
“Zack…” She meant his name to sound like a warning. It came out more like an invitation.

“Let me guess.” His dimple deepened. “You’re afraid you’re going to hurl yourself into my arms in a mad lather of passion.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

He moved closer. “I love it when you beg.”

She grinned in spite of herself. “You were right about the first part. I’m afraid I’m going to hurl.”

He laughed and moved still closer. “God, Kate—I’ve missed you.”

His eyes were blue fathoms, twenty thousand leagues of ocean-deep feeling. The emotion in his gaze stole her breath. He might
not be able to put his feelings into words, but she couldn’t deny the message in his eyes. Her legs went weak.

He moved yet closer. His thighs wedged her against the kitchen counter. “I’ve missed you like crazy,” he said. “I’ve missed
you so much I can’t think.”

He was going to kiss her. She felt it coming, felt it like the storm brewing outside. She knew it was about to happen, and
she did nothing to stop it.

His mouth lowered to hers. And then, God help her—she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, as if he were oxygen
and she was coming up for air after a long, undersea dive.

“Don’t mind me.”

Katie dropped her arms. Her eyes flew open, and she saw Gracie standing in the doorway. One hand rested on her enormous belly,
which was pushing her “I heart T-shirts” T-shirt to the outer limits of the cotton’s stretchability.

“Gracie!” Katie pushed Zack away. “What are you doing up?”

“I woke up, and I had to go to the bathroom. And I heard you in here.”

Katie turned toward the counter and pretended to need something in the cabinet above. “You know what the doctor said. You’re
supposed to stay in bed.”

“Except when I go to the bathroom.”

“Well, this isn’t the bathroom.”

“I know.” She grinned. “It’s not a bedroom, either.”

“It—it’s not what you think.” She turned and looked to Zack for help. He grinned and shrugged. No help would be forthcoming
from that quarter, she realized with frustration. “We haven’t been—I mean, we’re not…”

Gracie rolled her eyes, then waved as something caught her eye through the kitchen door. “Oh, look. Here comes Annette.”

Katie turned as Annette let herself in the kitchen door. Annette’s gaze locked on the girl, and she frowned, her eyes alarmed.
“Gracie! What are you doing out of bed?”

“I got up to go to the bathroom, then I caught them snogging.”

“Snogging?”

“Making out.”

“Gracie, go to bed,” Katie said.

“Okeydoke.” She shuffled off to her room. “But it looked to me as if you two are the ones headed in that direction.”

Zack scooped up his laptop. “Nice to see you, Annette. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to print out a letter.”

Coward.
Katie telegraphed the word to him with narrowed eyes. He winked.

“Well!” Annette looked both flustered and amused. “I came back for my glasses—I think I left them… Oh, there they are.” She
scooped them off the table.

Katie felt compelled to offer some kind of explanation. “What Gracie said… We weren’t… I mean, we were just…”

Annette threw up her hands. “No need to explain. But, Katie, I want you to know… I mean, I don’t know what your situation
is, but if you were to be involved with Zack—or with someone else, for that matter… well, I want you to know that I’m all
for it. Not that I think you’re waiting for my approval or anything.”

Katie’s face heated. “Annette, I…”

“I just want to say that Paul would want you to be happy.” Annette gathered up her keys. “Gotta run—the weather center is
predicting this storm will be a bad one.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” The thought of being alone with Zack suddenly seemed fraught with danger.

“Thanks, but no. Dave’s cooked a pot roast.”

“He cooks?” Paul used to say his dad was totally lost in the kitchen.

“It’s a recently acquired skill.” A soft, amused expression crossed her face. “He’s got quite a few of those.” She closed
the door behind her, leaving Katie to wonder just what she meant.

The storm raged like a jilted lover. Lightning blazed, thunder roared, and rain pounded on the roof, as if demanding entry.

The memory of the storm that had destroyed her house less than two months earlier made Katie’s nerves quiver. She tried to
reason with the fear as she chopped a green pepper to add to the onions and garlic simmering on the stove.
Just because your house was hit doesn’t mean Zack’s will be. In fact, it makes it more unlikely. Lightning doesn’t strike
twice.

Or did it? It certainly seemed to, where her heart was concerned. She’d had no intention of kissing Zack again, and yet she’d
done exactly that.

She wasn’t sure which had her more rattled—the storm or the fact that Zack was likely to walk through the garage door at any
moment. Another rumble of thunder shook the house just as Zack stepped into the kitchen.

He inhaled appreciatively. “Mmm. Smells delicious.”

“It’s shrimp Creole. One of Gracie’s favorites.”

“Katie!” called Gracie from the other room. “Katie, come quick!”

The panicked edge to Gracie’s voice turned Katie’s blood to ice. Zack looked at her. They both dashed out of the kitchen,
across the living room and to the bedroom.

Gracie sat on the edge of the bed, her face white. “I’m bleeding.”

“How bad?” Katie asked.

“Like—like a heavy period. Maybe worse. ”