Chapter 16 #2
She startles, jumping several inches off the chair. “Nothing.”
Before she can slam the book shut, I slide my finger in it, marking her place.
I pluck it from her hands and survey the cover. “ The Charmer Next Door . Is it good?”
“Y-yeah, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t really know.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never read romance. Can I have it back, please?”
I grin, relishing her flustered state. God, I love teasing her. Now she’s got me even more curious.
Moving away, I open the book to the page I marked.
He twisted a loose strand of her hair around his index finger, and Delia gasped. If that touch alone made her lose her mind, what would it be like once he had his hand between her legs?
“Jason, please,” she begged.
His lips grazed the thin skin below her ear, his warm breath causing ripples of need through her, heading straight for her already throbbing core. Softly, too softly, he brushed his mouth there.
Delia’s eyes rolled back in her head. She couldn’t help herself.
She turned her face toward him, giving him no time to toy with her further.
Her lips found his, eager and hot, her tongue sliding against his in flawless rhythm.
She clutched at his shirt as he ran his fingers possessively down her chest, her hips, until he reached her ass and pressed her against his hard—
Zoey snatches the book out of my grasp. “Give me that.”
“Interesting read,” I say, my grin widening. “Very informative. Don’t you want to know what happens next? We can stay a bit if you want to finish.” I press my lips together, trying in vain to school my features. “The scene , of course.”
She rolls her eyes and plants her hand on her hip, popping it for good measure. “And where will you be while I do that?”
“I-I… not… Obviously, I wouldn’t…”
She throws the book onto the bed with a satisfied smirk and drapes a jacket over her shoulders. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
As we step into the venue, the mood has completely shifted from this afternoon. The microbrewery hums with soft chatter, and even though the whole town is crammed into five hundred square feet, the dimmed tinsel lights lend the space a kind of atmospheric intimacy.
“Mission accomplished.” Zoey surveys the room for a long moment before fixing her attention on me. “You look very handsome.”
She settles a hand on one suspender, sliding a finger between it and the white shirt beneath it. Though she’s not touching my skin, my body sizzles in response. “I’ve never seen you in anything but jeans, boots, and plaid shirts. It’s a nice change.”
She’s right. I don’t often trade in my lumberjack clothes, as Oliver calls them, for clean pants and a white shirt. But I wanted to make an effort tonight. For her. Because I knew she’d bring her A game too.
I brush the hair off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, and cup my hand around the back of her neck, my thumb stroking her skin there.
“I appreciate the compliment, beautiful.” I lean in, my lips grazing her ear.
“But you’re the one who’s stealing the show tonight.
” When I pull away, I nod subtly at the crowd, noting how many people glance her way.
If there’s one thing we are not in this town, it’s discreet. And right now, all eyes are on her.
“They’re probably wondering what you’re doing with me.”
I splay my other hand over the curve of her hip and turn her to me. “They’re staring because you’re a goddamn vision. And I’m the luckiest bastard in the whole town.” I offer her my elbow. “Let’s get a drink, shall we?”
A few folks stop us to say hello on our way to the bar.
Rob compliments Zoey on her project, explaining that he finally got a chance to read it, his voice loud enough for a few eavesdroppers to hear.
Mia welcomes us with a warm smile. Zoey listens attentively while Carl and his wife, Laura, talk about the bear encounter they had today, and the money they’re hoping we’ll raise tonight.
By the time we reach the bar, I’m having a hard time differentiating between what’s real and what’s not.
For a moment, I honestly believed I was here with my girl, chatting away with our neighbors and friends. She fits into this life so well, and I don’t think even she realizes it.
“What can I get for you two lovebirds?” Coop asks from behind the bar.
Zoey rests her elbow on the counter. “I’ll take a lager if you have one.” She glances at me. “What do you want?”
I wrap my arm around her waist. “I’ll have the blonde we tried this afternoon. Thanks, man.”
Beer in hand, she turns and taps it against mine. “Cheers.”
She twists around and leans against the bar, tilting the bottle to her lips while she watches the crowd. “Even with all the research I did, I could never have gotten it right.”
I follow her line of sight, cocking a brow. “Why?”
“You have something rare in this town. I can’t even begin to explain it, but I’ve never experienced it before.”
I bump her shoulder softly. “Community?”
“Maybe,” she murmurs a little absently.
“I’m surprised your dad didn’t brief you on that ahead of your trip,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s the folks here who brought his ridiculous luxury hotel down. Group effort.”
“My dad and I have very different ways of doing business. It’s hard to make him see reason sometimes. That’s why I usually prefer to mind my portfolio and leave him to handle shareholders and investors. He’s not a bad guy,” she says with a sigh. “Just very stubborn.”
“Oh, so that’s where it comes from.”
She rolls her eyes, fighting a smile. “I’m the very diluted version.”
I hum. She’s not that bad.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Carl’s kids running in our direction, playing tag. I press myself up against Zoey to keep her from being trampled.
“If it’s so difficult to work with him, and if you don’t like the way he handles things,” I say, “then why are you staying in the business?”
She flinches, averting her attention to the crowd. I swear her body curves in on itself a fraction.
“Because it’s all I’ve ever known. I went to college fully aware my dad disapproved of my path. He was already showing me the ropes then. I’m his only kid, and he had big dreams for me. Dreams that didn’t align with the ones I had for myself.”
“So you got roped into the business,” I say.
Zoey nods, her face blank. “At sixteen. He didn’t force it on me. It just… happened. I didn’t officially work for him till after college, but being the boss’s daughter, I was always at his office. I followed him everywhere. To meetings, to visit sites. He liked having me around.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Don’t you think he was grooming you to work for him later on?”
“Oh, he definitely was,” she says matter-of-factly.
The lack of anger in her voice triples mine. Who uses their kids like that, to serve their own agenda, feed their own ego?
“After I finished my undergrad,” Zoey continues, “my dad decided enough was enough and refused to invest more in my pediatric nursing program. I got more involved, and eventually, he insisted I take over the business development department. I couldn’t say no.
Like, Matt, I physically couldn’t say no.
” Her voice wavers, her words imprinted with the kind of pain that leaves indelible scars.
“I wanted to make him proud so badly, and I knew that’s what he wanted.
And…” She shrugs. “I figured that my dad would always do what’s best for me. ”
She takes a sip of her beer, her expression turning pensive, like something’s brewing in her brain. Does she question her dad’s intentions now?
“Sometimes,” she continues, her voice quieter, a little more guarded, “you don’t walk away from a career you’ve spent years building, no matter how much you disagree with the people involved.
Sometimes, you stay because you hope you can do something different and change things from the inside.
You just… keep going. Even if you’re not sure this is what you want anymore. ”
“Zoey…” I clench my fists, my chest tightening just as hard.
Completely wrong. My assumptions about her were completely wrong.
Her father is a very lucky man not to be standing in front of me right now.
I turn to her and hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so she’s forced to look at me.
“I know what you’re doing, okay? I know .
You’re trying to show your dad that you can take over when he retires, and I have to be real fucking honest—I don’t know why you do that.
Based on what I’m hearing, you’ve spent years grinding at work, growing the business, doing really groundbreaking shit, if my research is correct.
Yet he still can’t see how capable you are.
Maybe he just doesn’t want to. And that makes it worse.
But either way, the result is the same. You feel like you’re not enough, like you should be doing more to prove yourself to him, like you are not worthy.
That drives me absolutely out of my fucking mind. ”
“You know?” she exhales, stuck on the first part of my rant, her breath shallow as her face drains of color.
“I do,” I say softly. “Since before we started to pretend to date. I had an inkling. I read a few articles about your dad. Figured it wasn’t a coincidence that while he’s talking about retirement, you’re here, working on a project he couldn’t nail down himself.
I was giving you the time to tell me yourself, but after all you’ve just shared, after what you had to put up with all these years…
” I inhale deeply. “I couldn’t keep it in any longer. ”
“Are you mad?”
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Yes, I am. At how your dad’s been treating you. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she says, meeting my gaze without flinching. “I don’t know why I so badly want to please him. It’s like a vicious cycle that I can’t get out of. That I didn’t want to get out of until I—”
She shakes her head, swallowing back the rest of her words.