Chapter 11
Mabel let go of Zane’s arms and watched as Hannah attempted to climb in the enormous Humvee in her hoop-skirt gown.
Sleeveless, with a classic sweetheart neckline, and in a lush, creamy brocade, her gown had knocked the socks off everyone in attendance.
But now, it was proving difficult to jump up into the vehicle in the thing.
It was okay that it was taking a while. Mabel had made a move on Zane, sort of.
It was her first one in over a decade and a half, and now she was frozen at the possibilities.
Had she really just said she wanted to steal him away?
It was a good thing that they could now be distracted by Hannah’s attempts at getting into the vehicle.
“I didn’t think through our getaway, did I?” Hannah joked, and the onlookers laughed.
“You had other far more important things on your mind, huh?” Weston asked in a snarky voice, and the group laughed even more.
“Guilty as charged.” Hannah held up a hand and then turned again to August for help.
He reached down and hiked her skirts up to above her knees, bending the wire lining so that they all shifted to one side. “You just need to Scarlett O’Hara it, baby,” he said in his low, gravely voice.
“Well, it kind of is a Scarlett O’Hara house.” Hannah’s mom motioned with her hand and then pulled Hannah’s little brother closer to her.
The wedding had been perfect—exactly what the romantic-at-heart Hannah had wanted. They’d all even survived the celebrities who had swarmed the premises, complete with their own security teams and assistants.
A lump grew in Mabel’s throat. Dang it. She wasn’t going to cry.
Again. But they looked so adorably happy together.
Besides, the longer it took for Hannah to get in the limo, the more time Mabel would have to gather her thoughts.
Why she’d said that to Zane was beyond her, and she needed to think this through for a minute.
It was just that the thought of him leaving the wedding before really talking with him had filled her with white-hot dread.
The limo finally drove away, and Zane turned to her, a slow, cautious smile forming. He bent to whisper in her ear. “I’m yours for the taking, Mabel Joan.”
Oh. My. Word. She couldn’t even with the way he smelled and the way he’d tickled her hair away from her skin as he spoke in her ear.
She wanted desperately to flirt back, but all she could manage was a little smile. She spun on her heels and charged up the walkway in front of the Bailey mansion, stopping only to glance back at him and step out of her shoes. She laughed when Zane bent to pick them up.
Mabel held her hand out. “I got those.”
“Just go.” Still holding her shoes, he motioned to the massive front door. “Let’s snag a couple of drinks in here first, and then we’ll go wander.”
He looked behind him, and Mabel felt the same hesitation. If the KNO people saw them leaving together, they would be questioned, teased, and whatever else.
Carefully, and satisfied no one was looking in their direction, they pushed through the door, into the grand entry, and then around to the kitchen, squeezing past catering staff as they went.
“Water for me, please.” Mabel was tired, and the buzz in her toes and the rest of her needed liquid. Liquid and Zane.
Zane grabbed two water bottles from the fridge and caught her hand when they heard voices approaching the kitchen. She dodged a caterer and stepped in front of him. By the time they reached the backyard, they’d broken into almost a run.
He didn’t let go of her hand. They were trying the friendship thing, and that was better to her than nothing. But she’d keep holding his hand if he let her.
Workers were taking down the lights, and already the canopy and most of the tables and chairs had been put away. There was stillness in the air, contrasting with the chaos of the reception earlier.
“Sometimes I forget how dark it can get out here in the country,” she said.
She’d lived in the country on what had once been a farm her whole life. But a few years after her mom died, her father wanted to downsize.
Yeah. She was thirty and still living with her father.
When she’d returned from her three-year stint lobbying in Boise, there was no point in her getting her own place since there was plenty of room for her in her dad’s duplex.
It was supposed to only be temporary. A place to stay when she got sick.
Now it had been a couple more years. As soon as she became an RN, she’d get her own place.
“Tell me about yourself,” she asked him, her bare feet cool on the pathway.
“You already know everything about me.”
It wasn’t good for two friends to keep holding hands like they were, was it? She’d better err on the side of caution. With a sigh, she let go. “No. I used to. But not anymore, and you know it.” She hoped the side-eye she gave him would open him up.
“I’m just a guy with a dog and a nephew who’s basically the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” He looked down at the ground but smiled.
“Chief is the dog. Styles is the nephew…Lorelei’s son,” she said.
“See? I told you. You know everything about me.”
“I’ve barely even met either of them, and Styles is now, what? Two?”
“He’s three. And to be fair, Marcus’s kids are cute too. Sefina and Aleki. They’re eight and nine, but I don’t get to see them as much.”
“I bet your parents are pretty great grandparents.”
“They really are. My mom especially. She’s always mailing fun things to Sefina and Aleki. And Styles has her wrapped around his finger.”
Mabel cooed, her smile growing. This conversation they were having? Almost normal. And it felt…good. But then another thought came to her head.
“So, I hate to ask this, but have you heard what will happen with the hospital?” she asked.
He gave a slight shrug. “Not yet. I’m guessing I’ll be placed on temporary leave.”
“You don’t sound too worried about it.”
“Nah. It was totally worth it.” He glanced down at his hand before his gaze flicked to her hand, the one he’d been holding before. “You look incredible, by the way.”
Mabel laughed him off, but he stopped and turned to face her. “I mean it, you do.” He took her in—the way he looked at her made her shiver. He gently guided a lock of hair from her face and let it slip behind her back, as if to say, I want to see more of you.
“You look good, too, Zane,” she said.
“Thanks.” He didn’t meet her gaze as his arms gently circled her waist. He could have easily crushed her to him, but he didn’t. He was careful, cautious. And it was no wonder he was. There was an unwritten standard.
She was giddy. Flying. A laugh escaped her. It had felt good to laugh with Zane the last couple of days…it had been a long while since she’d been able to do that freely. And now, the night was so beautiful, so perfect, she couldn’t help herself.
“What’s so funny?” he asked. He looked to be fighting a laugh himself.
“I was thinking how that actor from Growing Pains was at the wedding. My mom used to watch that show.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie; she had been thinking about that, intermingled with thoughts of delicious giddiness from being around Zane.
He chuckled then brought his hands up her arms. “You’re cold.” He set her heels and the water bottles on the ground, shrugged his suit coat off, and held it out to her. “May I?”
She nodded. “Except I don’t exactly feel cold. I didn’t realize I had goosebumps.”
“Isn’t that a change from before?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you were sick. Even after you got better, you seemed to be cold a lot. You weren’t like that before you got sick.”
A flood of memories from that awful time in her life seeped into her. “Huh. I don’t remember telling you that.”
“I could just tell.” He did up the buttons on the suit coat that hung loosely on her frame.
“You don’t have to button it. I look dumb.” Her hands flopped out of the sleeves, and she waved them up and down.
“Never,” he said.
“I feel like an eighties corporate woman with these shoulder pads.”
He smirked, but then his gaze softened. “I’m going to have to push back on that because that’s not at all how you look.”
“No, really. I’m the character in Working Girl. Another movie my mom used to love.”
“Was that actress at the wedding too?” he teased.
She laughed. “Sadly, no.” She took in a breath, thinking again in a sort of hazy way how beautiful the night air was.
She swallowed roughly. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation at City Hall, and I think we can both agree that there have been some pretty big misunderstandings between us over the years.”
He nodded, and she waited a moment before continuing. “Can we work on our communication skills? Together?” Tilting her head to one side, the vulnerability was a dull roar in the background of her mind.
“Yes. Please?” he said. “I think we should promise that we can be as honest as possible with each other from here on out.”
“Okay.” She pulled him close, looking back and forth from his lips to his dark chocolate eyes. “I like that idea.” She rested her head on his chest.
“Look at us. Promising to be open and honest.”
She drew back enough to see his face. Everything stilled, and then the wind picked up, lifting her periwinkle dress at the hem. He leaned in closer to her, just a touch, but it was enough to make her mind go wild with possibilities.
His lips parted a little, and hers mirrored his.
Would this kiss finally be the moment that would repair the ruptures of the past?