6. Zoe
CHAPTER 6
Zoe
“ H old on,” Luna says from where she sits across the table from me at Lyla’s Place. Anne and Lyla are on either side of her, the four of us taking up a table in the empty restaurant, a much-needed girls breakfast before the place opens up for lunch. “You're telling me that the man your father hired to be your security detail is Silver ? And he’s outside right now, just watching the place?”
“I am,” I answer, taking in all three of their looks of shock.
“And you're also telling me it took you almost three weeks to tell us that?” Luna continues, looking completely taken aback.
“I know, I know,” I say apologetically. “But can you blame me? I mean, what are the odds? It’s not like I was expecting that.”
“ No one would expect that,” Anne says, shaking her head. “I know you had physical chemistry with Silver despite the full facemask situation that night, but after seeing him in the flesh?” She fans herself.
We all chuckle at that, taking bites of the breakfast Lyla prepared for us.
“I was wondering who that new gentleman was,” Lyla says. “He certainly stirred up a lot of conversations after y'all left the other night.”
“I can only imagine,” I say. “He's as inked up as Ridge, and we all know how this small town talks about our resident tattoo artist.”
Lyla blushes at the mention of Ridge, and I curiously note the reaction she tries to hide behind a sip of coffee. Ridge and her are always in some sort of ridiculous argument or another, the most common one being Ridge saying she forgot something in his to-go orders, but I always wondered if there was more going on there. It’s hard to turn off my body language radar sometimes, and the two of them had that crackling chemistry in spades.
“So have there been any new developments with Silver?” Luna asks, grinning at me.
It's my turn to blush, and I do my best to hide that behind a bite of my eggs.
“Oh my gosh, there has,” Anne says enthusiastically.
I wave them off. “It was just a kiss,” I assure them. “That's it. That's all we agreed to since we hadn't been able to before because of the masks.”
“From the look on your face, it’s so not just a kiss,” Luna says, my best friend able to read me wholeheartedly.
I take a sip of coffee, setting down my mug. “Okay, it was the best kiss I've ever had in my life. Which I can now add to his name, right next to the best sex of my life . But no, we can't cross that line again, so we haven't done anything else.”
“What?” Luna asks.
“Why not?” Anne asks.
I glance at Lyla, who just smiles and shakes her head at me with nothing to add.
“I don't know,” I say. “He's been hired to protect me. As much as I'd like to brush off the situation with Spencer, I can't. So I need Owen. In a totally different way than I needed the mysterious and fun flirtation we had before things changed. If we got intimate like that again? Don't you think it would complicate things?”
“Maybe,” Anne says a little more seriously. “But maybe not. It's not like this is a common situation. You two already had a sort of relationship before you knew your father was going to hire him for this job. Doesn't that factor into anything?”
I nod. “It's definitely made things harder,” I admit. “He’s even more amazing in person, and he was already pretty damn amazing through text.”
“Well, tell me this,” Luna says. “What if, on one of the times he asked you to meet up, you did? You had a date, realized you liked each other, then what? Would things be progressing?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “If things happened organically like that, I don’t doubt it at all. It's just easy with him. He's smart and funny and can get under my skin in the best of ways, and he’s sweet to that stray cat I love. But that's not how we officially met.”
“Technically you two met at a masquerade party two months ago,” Lyla reminds me.
I tilt my head, unable to argue with her there.
“Exactly.” Luna nods at Lyla and at Anne, who clearly agrees from the way she's nodding too. “So why should a little thing like him being hired to protect you deter things? None of this has been typical, so why do the typical rules have to apply? I'm not saying if he's making you uncomfortable that you pursue it, because if he is, then that's a whole other story?—”
“Never,” I say. “I feel safe with him.”
“Then I think you should stop shackling yourself into these rules you think you have to abide by.” Luna eyes me.
“I agree,” Anne adds. “You're both consenting adults. And as long as you set boundaries, if you need any, then there should be really no reason why you're keeping a barrier between you two.”
When they lay everything out like this, it’s really hard to remember why I didn’t invite him back to my place after our dinner a few nights ago. I’d wanted to, but when he said he was going to follow me home and then leave, I lost all my courage. This is completely uncharted territory for me, especially since we’ve already slept together before. I didn’t want him to feel obligated or that I’m using him for convenience.
“I agree with both of them,” Lyla says.
“I'll think about it,” I finally say, and they clap with delight.
“Keep us posted,” Anne says.
“You're bringing him tomorrow night, right?” Luna asks.
“I was going to ask you about that,” I say. “I know I responded to your and Brad's invitation to the fundraiser before I had a plus one. A mandatory plus one,” I continue. “Knowing him, he'll want to make sure he's got eyes on me in a new location.”
Hell, he’s in his car outside right now, giving me the safe space to enjoy this time with my friends without worrying if Spencer will show up.
“Oh, I bet he wants to have eyes on you,” Anne says, waggling her eyebrows, sending us all into laughter again.
“Please bring him,” Luna says. “You know Brad won't mind. The more the merrier.”
I smile at my friend, loving the way her eyes light up every time she mentions her once best friend and now boyfriend, Brad. I always thought they were perfect for each other, and I'm so grateful they recently figured that out.
“Okay, then,” I say, taking another bite of my eggs. “I’ll bring him.”
We fall into easy chatter after that, laughing and joking, our time together doing absolute wonders for my soul. Not that I haven’t been having plenty of fun with Owen, but with the stalker situation going on, my practice, and my conflicting feelings around Owen, it was a lot. And there’s nothing like a good girl session to make me feel normal and empowered again.
A knock on my door sounds just after six p.m., and I'm just sliding my last earring in as I hurry to open it.
I swing open the door, any form of greeting dying in my throat the second I set eyes on Owen.
His muscular body is draped in a midnight-black suit, making the ink on his neck all the more striking, his glacial blue eyes molten as he looks me up and down.
“You look spectacular,” he says, eyeing my dress, a dark blue sleeveless number with a slit that travels high up my thigh.
“So do you,” I say, finishing securing my earring before I grab the clutch I laid on the entryway table earlier. “Are you ready?”
“I am if you are,” he says, offering his arm.
I take it, unable to stop the flutter in my heart as he leads me down to his car, holding my door open for me and going as far to ensure I'm buckled before he closes it and heads to the driver's seat.
Normally I’d protest such things, but I have to admit, there’s something so damn comforting about being able to turn my brain off when he’s taking charge.
Running my own practice and juggling more than a dozen clients means I make decisions almost every second of every day, mentally analyzing and organizing so many different people's emotions and needs. I don't know if I've ever felt more relaxed or at ease than when Owen is handling things for me. And while I know I’m a strong, capable woman, who's to say I can’t enjoy a little princess treatment? Especially when he so naturally provides it?
We make it to the Plaza in Charleston, chatting the entire hour car ride. Brad’s fundraising team selected the hotel to host tonight's event with the sole purpose of raising funds for those who’d been affected by recent hurricanes, the flooding near devastating to some.
Brad is beyond wealthy and already donated ten million to the cause, and while I couldn't offer nearly that much, I put in my own ten thousand. My father matched that number and added another ninety to go with it, donating anonymously so no one could claim he only did so for the reelection campaign. Brad would get all the donations in the right hands, ensuring those who needed it would be taken care of, which made tonight not only a fun party, but one with a purpose.
“It's a good thing my job is all about not taking my eyes off you,” Owen says as he guides me up the steps and into the main ballroom where tons of guests are dressed in their finest, donating and bidding on auction items with all the proceeds going toward the fundraiser. “Because I certainly won't be able to with you in that dress.”
I laugh, the compliment gliding along my body like warm water. “Are you allowed to say things like that?” I tease.
Owen takes my hand, easily guiding me through the throngs of people. “I can say and do whatever you allow. If you don't want me to do or say something, tell me and I won't.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he answers confidently.
“You're here!” Luna says by way of greeting, her and Brad making their way over to us, their hands interlocked. Brad is smiling at Luna like she hung the moon herself.
I wrap my best friend in a hug, then Brad, before shifting back to Owen's side and motioning to him. “Brad, Luna…” I motion to each in turn. “This is Owen.”
Brad reaches out a hand, and Owen shakes it, the two locking eyes and sizing each up each other up quickly. They're friendly enough, and Luna shakes his hand next, smiling up at him and damn near giggling, which makes me widen my eyes at her.
“We've heard so much about you,” Luna says, grinning as Anne and Jim make their way over to us.
“So much,” Anne says. “Hi again. Anne,” she clarifies. “Just in case you couldn't recognize me without the waitress garb.”
Jim shakes Owen's hand after I introduce him, and we all form this little circle just beyond the silent auction happening a few feet away.
“I'm surprised your tie isn't silver,” Anne says, and I gape her.
Luna laughs, and to my utter surprise, Owen does too, flashing her a look that’s kind and amused.
“I thought that would be a little too on the nose,” Owen says. “Besides, I only like to bust that color out for special occasions.” He glances at me again, and the smile he gives me makes my knees weak.
Luna and Anne chuckle, and our little group falls into small talk that thankfully doesn't involve any more references to Owen’s and my wild first night.
And after an hour of mingling, I tug Owen to the dance floor, not only to take a break from visiting with too many people with well wishes for my father’s campaign, but just for the excuse to get a little closer to him.
I feel completely and utterly relaxed as he takes the lead, one hand in mine and the other on my hip as we sway softly to the melody. It's wonderful to not have to worry about anything —not my anxiety and fear over when Spencer will pop up next, not the full patient list I have the privilege and responsibility to manage, or anything else. I know I have him to thank for that, and it’s almost dizzying to feel this free.
“So, my friends are big fans of yours,” I say, laughing softly as we move to the music.
“I'm glad to hear that,” he says, looking down at me. “I like them too. You have a good inner circle.”
“I'm lucky?—”
A profile of someone through the crowd steals the words from my mouth.
I freeze in Owen’s embrace.
It looks like Spencer—same blond hair, same height?—
Owen immediately registers my line of sight, following it and gently tugging me off the dance floor, heading across the space to the small alcove tucked near the stairwell doors of the ballroom.
“Don't move from this spot,” he says in a gentle tone.
I nod, and he disappears into the crowd, eyes keen like a hawk, every inch of him on alert, his hand tucked in his suit jacket where I know there’s a gun holstered.
My heart races in my chest, adrenaline flooding my veins as my brain presents me with all kinds of catastrophic scenarios.
Owen finding Spencer and beating him within an inch of his life.
Owen missing him and Spencer finding me here, alone.
Seconds feel stretched into hours by the time Owen is back, his hands a comforting touch on my shoulders as he catches my gaze.
“It wasn't him,” he says. “I saw who you were looking at, but I caught up with him. It looks like him, but it isn’t. I promise.”
I blow out a breath, my muscles trembling from the adrenaline. I wrap my arms around him, drawing him to my level as I tip my head back, pressing my lips against his in a quick kiss.
“I'm sorry,” I say, drawing back. “I just wanted to say thank you?—”
Owen’s eyes fall to my lips before he slants his mouth over mine. His hand tunnels into my hair, his other one bringing me flush against him.
I melt into his kiss, forgetting my imagined threat, forgetting the fundraiser, forgetting everything except for the way he makes me feel.