23. Ambrose #2
Clearing my throat, I gestured at the poetry book. “Perhaps you can find a poem in there about finding oneself in this difficult journey called life?”
“Good idea.” Zeth gave me an appreciative nod before he flipped through the pages again. “Are those the sort of poems your mom liked?”
Leaning my arms on the table, I peered up at the tree nearby where the birds flew about.
“Yes, but she loved nature poems the most. About birds, trees, flowers. Anything like that. Those tend to be my favorites as well.” I turned to him, moving closer, and flipped to a page with a short poem about summer that I enjoyed. “Short and sweet. I like those.”
Zeth’s eyes gleamed as he looked me up and down, and I waited for him to say something coy, but he only asked, “What poems does your dad like?”
“He likes those that speak deeper meanings about the soul, and love. Connection, I suppose. Romance.” I’d invested a great deal of time getting to know my father. I was sure he knew little about my poetry preferences.
“Huh, I expected you to say he enjoys balance sheets. There’s nothing quite like liabilities and expenditures to get the heart racing.”
My laughter attracted a few stares from people walking past on the sidewalk. I’m not sure why the idea of my father reciting numbers at a poetry reading tickled me so, but they did. I laughed until tears formed.
After a moment, I looked up to see an amused smile on Zeth’s lips and a handkerchief in his hand.
He held the white cloth out, so I took it to dab my eyes, enjoying the simple lye scent.
When I went to give it back, my gaze narrowed as I recognized the gold initials of my name embroidered into the fabric, AHS.
“This is my handkerchief,” I said with surprise.
“Aye,” Zeth agreed, but gently yanked the cloth from me. I stared as he tucked it deeply into his sleeve and crossed his strong arms with a daring grin. “It was yours, but finders keepers. You’ll need to fight me to get it back.”
“Mm, you keeping it shows me how much you valued our intimate time in the hay.” I winked before flipping another page of the poetry book.
“Speaking of intimacy, I do think a love poem would be ideal to recite. My father loved my mother dearly. I’m convinced it’s why he won’t marry again.
I suppose sometimes love is so deep… it’s painful to be parted. ”
Zeth’s face softened, and something bright glowed between us. “I think I’ll write a romantic poem for your dad,” he declared.
“Which Somerset are you trying to woo here?”
He chuckled. “I mean, I’ll write something to impress your dad. If a man as serious as him appreciates poetry, then I’m suddenly inspired to be romantic. And maybe my cleverness and witty turn of phrases will please you too. How many days do I have to craft this masterpiece before the salon?”
“Two days.”
“Fuck me, that’s not much time. What can you teach me about love in two days?”
Zeth leaned toward me with a daring grin.
There were several things I could teach him, and I was eager for him to teach me too, especially after he mentioned slapping my ass at the river.
That intrigued me. I thought about it every day.
I opened my mouth to tell him we could leave and find someplace more private, but the sound of a chair scraping pulled me away from him.
I turned to find Damien Cooligan sitting at our table.
The unwelcome man flashed me a knowing smirk and flipped his light-blond braid over his shoulder before turning to Zeth. “Is Amby giving out lessons in love again?”
“They’re private lessons, so move on,” Zeth practically growled in threat to Damien, reminding me of how they didn’t get along in school. God, this wasn’t good…
My hand curled into a fist in my lap. “Mr. Cooligan, I believe you order food inside.”
“I know what I want, and I don’t have to go far to get it.” He eyed me as he waved a hand up. When Tobe walked over, Damien asked him for a pastry before leaning back and crossing his arms, making himself comfortable.
Zeth crossed his legs with a slow grace that reminded me of how he acted as man of the house in Annabelle’s parlor. He looked Damien over carefully and asked, “Still picking on people to feel better about yourself?”
It was a low blow to Damien, and by the way he sat up with an ugly scowl, the insult hit. “Don’t act like you’re above me, Washer. It seems Amby really is desperate for whoever’s available.”
When Zeth’s glare narrowed at him, I grabbed the poetry book, tucked it beneath my arm, and stood from my chair. We needed to leave, or a fight would ensue with the way these two were staring at each other.
Clearing my throat, I looked over at Zeth as if he was the only person sitting there and asked, “Ready to head back to the laundry?”
Zeth exhaled and gave an encouraging nod before standing up beside me. I was ready to teach him two days’ worth of love. I wouldn’t let Damien ruin this moment, or anything between us.
Damien reached for the pot of tea in the middle of the table. “You shouldn’t hang around tramps, Amby. You’re better than this.”
“Hey,” I said, my voice stern. “You’re unbelievable. And you wonder why I’m so cold to you. The next time you see me out, kindly leave me alone.”
Before Damien could say more, I tugged Zeth away from the table and out onto the sidewalk. Once we were walking, I let go of him and stared at the ground. My whole body shook from the encounter. What would Zeth think of me after hearing all that?
When Zeth wrapped an arm around my back to guide me into a narrow alleyway between a few buildings, I wondered what he was doing. But the shade instantly cooled me off, and I followed along with him until we moved far enough away from the bustle of the street.
When we stopped, Zeth took the book from me and set it on the ground. Then he faced me and asked, “Is everything alright?”
“I’m sorry for that back there.”
“The way you stood up to that prick was commendable. I never liked Damien in school, and he’s worse now. I take it he’s one of the three I need to beat up?”
I leaned back against the brick siding with a sigh. “Yes, but he was a mistake.”
Zeth set one of his hands against the wall by my head, then used his other to tilt my chin up to meet his golden-brown eyes. “Thank you for choosing me, Rosie.”
“I will always choose you, Zeth.”
He moved in to kiss me, his tender touch evaporating my stress. So much, that I was ready to have him all to myself.
Breaking away from his lips, I straightened his collar and asked, “Ready to head to the laundry so I can teach you a few things about love?”
Zeth gave a husky laugh before he nodded. He swiftly bent to grab the book before taking my hand to lead us along the alley.
As we neared the street, I felt his hold slipping from mine, but I gripped him tight, not wanting to let go.
Zeth blinked at me in surprise. When I squeezed his hand, letting him know I wanted to keep him there, he smiled.
Then he pulled me out of the shadows of the alley and into the sunshine of Everdeen.