Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
MATT
I ’m walking straight into my own personal hell.
We drift through the microbrewery, weaving between the fermentation and brewing tanks, Zoey’s hand firmly tucked in mine.
Touching her is ridiculously easy. Soothing and invigorating at the same time. Her skin is soft against my callused fingers, her body delicate when I bring her to my side.
Which is why being alone in confined spaces with her is such a bad idea. I remember all too well what happened the last time I saw her in nothing but a towel.
But we’re “dating,” so how could we have said no?
“Crossing through the microbrewery is faster than going around,” Cooper tells Zoey.
Her fingers flex against mine. I brush my thumb along her skin in small circles, trying with each stroke to sweep her nervousness away.
“Have you ever thought of offering tours?” she asks as she surveys the tanks on either side of us.
“I have,” Cooper says. “But I haven’t had time to look into it too deeply. I’m not sure I have the capacity to operate a microbrewery while also spending several hours a day doing tours and handling all the logistics.”
“I could help with that,” she says. “If we build the hotel, I mean. Our staff could organize them and keep a schedule that’d work for you. It’d be a nice additional stream of revenue.”
I peer down at Zoey, impressed.
It’s becoming a trend. It’s only been a couple of days, but at every turn, she surprises me.
She thinks of everything, plans every detail. I have no doubt that she’s spent hours working on this proposal.
She’s so different from her father. She cares.
Even if she doesn’t want me to see it. Even if she hides behind a professional facade. This morning is a perfect example. I know very well that she went out of her way to drop off breakfast for Daph and me.
And her interaction with my sister?
God, I spent hours afterward replaying that moment. How she casually brushed over my sister being autistic. Like it was just…I don’t know, just a fact. Not a big deal. I’m not used to that. When Daph blurts things out like she did this morning, I always rush to apologize, explain, justify.
But not with Zoey. Zoey looked at Daph like she was nothing less and nothing more, and the anxiety that had been coiling in my chest eased and bloomed into relief when I realized that my sister could be herself around her.
Plus, she got our order exactly right.
She doesn’t strike me as the type to make small gestures like that. It threw me more than it should have—the breakfast, her casual attitude with Daph—and I haven’t stopped turning it over since.
What went so wrong in her life that she’s putting on this rigid, closed-off mask?
Though in only a matter of days, that mask is already beginning to crumble under the influence of our little town and its people. With any luck, she’ll shed it completely before she leaves.
This hotel project is becoming so much more than what it was supposed to be. And I like it more than I’m willing to admit.
“That could be an idea, yeah,” Cooper says, interrupting my thoughts. “Could be nice to show visitors how we make our famous sourdough beer.”
He pushes the back door open, and we walk across the field toward his house. Once inside, he retrieves two towels from a closet and sets them on his bed.
“Make yourselves at home. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Thanks, man.”
The instant the door clicks shut behind him, the air in the room grows thicker.
Zoey drops my hand and lets out a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Well, this is awkward.”
“Trust me, I know.” I smooth my beard, glancing at the open bathroom behind her. Of fucking course there’s no door.
“Uh… you can go first. I’ll just…” I scan the space, searching for the farthest spot from the shower. “Stay in the chair over there. I promise I won’t look.”
She blushes a faint shade of pink. “O-okay, thanks. I’ll be quick.”
I sink into the armchair and swivel so I’m facing the wall, blocking the flashes of Zoey’s clothes falling softly to the floor from entering my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling as much air as my lungs will hold.
When the tap opens, I release a shaky exhale and pull out my phone. Daphne answers on the second ring.
“Hi.” Her voice brings me instant peace.
“Are you having fun with Emily?”
“Yes. We spent all afternoon at the botanical garden studying the flowers, and tonight she’s going to show me her favorite documentary about safaris in Africa.”
“That’s great, Daph. Don’t go to bed too late, okay? I’m picking you up early tomorrow.”
“I won’t,” she mumbles. “Emily’s mom always says staying up after ten puts us in a bad mood.”
“Emily’s mom is right,” I smile into the phone. She’s been hosting Daphne every week since the two girls met in an autism development group. “Be good. If you need me, call me and I’ll be right over, okay?”
Daphne sighs on the other end. “Yes, Matt. But I’m fine. I stay at Emily’s every Saturday.”
“I know, I know. But if you need me, I’m here.”
“It’s time for dinner. I gotta go. Bye, Matt!”
She hangs up before I can tell her I love her.
“Did you say something?” Zoey calls from the shower, and all my newfound peace evaporates.
“N—” I clear my throat. “No. Just on the phone with my sister.” I grip the chair to keep myself from crossing the room and meeting her under the stream.
“I’ll be done in a minute. Can you—uh, can you look away?”
“Already am.”
I tune out the sounds of the bath towel rubbing along her body, the elastic of her underwear snapping against her skin, the lotion being spread on her long legs.
“All done!” she calls from the bathroom. “Your turn.”
I stand and spin around. “Perf—” The word dies in my throat. Black lingerie. Why is she wearing black lacy lingerie in front of me ? It barely covers her breasts, straining against the fabric like they’re begging to be freed.
“Matt?” She tilts her head.
“What- uh …” The noise comes out hoarsely. I clear my throat again. “Where’s your shirt?”
With a frown, she looks down. “Here?” She tugs on the very tight fabric of her lingerie . “It’s called a bustier. You don’t like it? I thought it would go well with my black pants.”
“That is not a shirt,” I say, shaking my head. “You can’t go out like that.”
Scoffing, she crosses her arms over her chest. The move makes everything so much worse. “And why’s that?”
“Because…”
Because I can’t think straight when you look like that. Because I’m gonna be staring at you like a creep all night and people are gonna ask what’s wrong with me. Because if anybody looks at you for a second too long, they might not have anything else to look at ever again.
“Because?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Because I’m gonna have a hard time focusing if you wear this all night.”
Her lips twitch. “I didn’t peg you for a lingerie type of guy.”
The lump in my throat makes it tough to swallow. “Something like that, yeah.”
She watches me, hunger flickering in her eyes. It’s the same emotion I saw there when Cooper suggested we use his shower.
She’s looking at me like I’m the starter, main, and dessert, and she doesn’t know where to begin.
And the worst part is, if I thought she’d act on her urges, I’d stand still for hours, allowing her to make up her mind. I’d be her toy, hers to command and use as she pleased.
A jolt of electricity runs down my spine at the thought, and I shudder with pleasure.
She’s dangerous for me. Too dangerous.
She makes me forget all the reasons I don’t want to get attached. The nights I lay awake hoping Andie would come back and accept me and my family for all we are fade into a distant memory when I’m caught in her spell.
Actually, Zoey hasn’t made me forget those reasons. Instead, she keeps proving at every turn, with every action, that she’s different. And in some ways, that’s almost scarier. Because then, how do I protect myself?
“Why do you need to focus anyway?”
“Uh?”
Zoey smirks, the expression a little wicked. “Tonight. You said you needed to focus. Why?”
Ah, yes. The fundraiser. And how we’ll be raising the money.
I take a deep breath. “We’re holding a bachelor auction. Folks will bid on…” I cringe. “Pine Falls bachelors for dates, activities, and all kinds of other stuff.”
She snorts out a laugh, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Whose idea was this? Wait.” She sobers up. “Are you… are you going to be on the auction block?”
“Cooper’s idea, and yes.” I squeeze the back of my neck. “Unfortunately. Didn’t have a choice.”
All because I lost a bet with Lola this summer. I wagered I’d kick her ass at the annual Pine Falls Triathlon. I didn’t. She wiped the floor with me.
Zoey sits on the bed. “And what are you offering to the lucky winner?”
“Flowers and dinner. And the ‘lucky winner’ won’t just be anybody.” I give her a pointed look.
Her eyes go wide. “You want me to—”
“Yes.” I nod sharply.
“Because we’re—”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t—”
“Our cover is blown,” I finish, then force a cheerful tone. “Congrats, you’re the lucky winner.”
She bites her lip, her leg bouncing. “Do I need to think of a strategy? How much should I bid? Do you want me to—”
“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry,” I cut in gently. “Just top whatever the highest amount is, and it’ll be fine. You can strategize while I shower.” I get up, standing in front of her. “But Zoey?”
She glances up, her eyes bright.
“If you look at me the way you were five minutes ago, we won’t have too much trouble selling it.”
As a flush creeps up her cheeks, I sidestep her and head for the shower.
When I emerge from the steamed-up bathroom ten minutes later, Zoey is nestled into the armchair, her back to me and a book propped up on her knees. I narrow my eyes on the shirtless man on the cover and smirk. That has Lola written all over it.
She turns the page, so absorbed by what she’s reading that she hasn’t noticed me.
Slowly, I close in on her, only stopping when I’m at her side. I bring my mouth to her ear.
“What are you reading?”