Chapter 10 #2
He glanced sideways at Zoe as she buckled in, her profile lit by the sunlight streaming through the windshield.
Yeah…
John really liked the sound of that.
As Zoe started the engine, she cast a sideways glance at John.
“I think that went well,” she said, aiming for breezy, but her voice held a softness she couldn’t quite shake.
“It did,” he agreed, his gaze steady on hers. “You were great in there.”
She gave a small shrug, eyes on the gravel lot ahead. But a smile tugged at her lips.
There was still so much to figure out—about the Grind, about her place in Good Hope, maybe even about the man sitting beside her.
But in this moment, with sunlight slanting through the windshield and possibility humming quietly in the silence between them, she didn’t feel the need to rush toward answers.
For now, she’d let the moment be what it was—undecided, but full of promise.
Not long after she started driving, Zoe eased the car onto a narrow gravel path that curved along the edge of the orchard.
Rows of cherry trees—still green but hinting at the golds and crimsons of autumn—lined both sides of the drive.
She parked beneath a cluster of shade trees, where the sun flickered through the leaves in golden shards and the scent of ripe fruit lingered in the air.
John glanced at her. “Detour?”
She smiled, unbuckling her seat belt. “You came all the way out here. You deserve more than an office and a parking lot.”
They strolled past the end of the lane and onto a grassy path, boots crunching gently on the earth. The quiet stretched around them, only the rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds breaking the stillness.
Zoe slid her hands into her jacket pockets. “You know, those ideas back there? The pop-up, the market—most of that came from you.”
John shook his head. “Not true. You were the spark. I just added a little fuel.”
She paused and turned toward him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Is that what we are? Spark and fuel?”
His gaze met hers. “Something like that. We’ve got synergy.”
She laughed. “Now there’s a romantic sentiment.”
“Okay, maybe not poetry,” he conceded, his smile deepening. “But it works. We work.”
Something shifted in the space between them—quiet, certain.
Zoe reached for his hand, their fingers lacing with an ease that made her heart catch.
“Just like I always thought,” he added, giving her hand a gentle swing.
She looked into his eyes, saw not just affection, but quiet certainty reflected there—and this time, she didn’t hesitate.
Zoe rose onto her toes, and John met her halfway.
The kiss that followed wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hesitant either. It was steady and sure, full of the unspoken things they weren’t quite ready to say aloud. It tasted of fresh air and possibility and the sweetness of something real beginning to bloom.
When they pulled apart, Zoe let out a slow breath. “Okay, maybe synergy is kind of romantic.”
Zoe had just slipped off her boots and was pouring a glass of water when the doorbell rang.
She padded barefoot across the kitchen and opened the door to find Brynn holding a polka-dot umbrella.
“Figured this belonged to you,” Brynn said, lifting it slightly. “Found it in the back of my car.”
Zoe laughed. “From that surprise downpour at Stella’s. I forgot all about it.”
Brynn stepped inside. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Just unwinding.” Zoe set her glass down. “Want some tea?”
“Nah, I won’t stay long. But I did want to see if you’re coming to Fun Night tomorrow at the school. It’s just a drop-in thing—games in the gym, snacks, face painting, you know. All very wholesome.”
Zoe opened her mouth to decline, but paused. “Actually…maybe. John and I talked about getting together tomorrow night. If he’s up for it, we might swing by.”
Brynn blinked. “Wait—John?”
Zoe nodded, as casual as she could manage.
Brynn spoke carefully. “You’re dating now? Like, officially?”
Zoe leaned a hip against the counter. “It’s new. But yeah. We’ve been spending more time together.”
Brynn crossed her arms. “Zoe, I know Daisy was all jump-in-and-enjoy-the-ride, but that’s not serious advice. This feels fast. Don’t you think it’s a little soon to—”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“Let’s see if you do.” Brynn’s tone was calm, but direct. “Just a week ago, you said you weren’t sure you even liked him.”
Zoe’s jaw tightened. “It’s not like John is a stranger. I knew him in Austin. We’ve worked together every day since he arrived. We’ve gone on one date, we’ve kissed, but no clothes have come off. That doesn’t sound like rushing to me.”
“Okay, so maybe not rushing, but as you’ve already acknowledged, it’s complicated.” Brynn uncrossed her arms. “He was Erik’s best man. And, when you knew him in Austin, you were with Erik.”
Zoe lifted a brow. “You hadn’t seen much of Callum in years, but you let him move into your house the second he got back into town.”
“That’s different.”
“Oh, really? Why? Because you got some official Good Hope exemption?”
“No.” Brynn’s voice sharpened. “Because I knew him. Practically my whole life. And he wasn’t tied to a man who shattered my heart.”
Zoe blinked, the comment hitting harder than she expected. She looked away, drawing in a quiet breath.
A beat of silence passed.
Then Brynn’s tone softened. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here. I care about you. I want you to be sure you’re doing this for the right reasons—and not to erase something that still hurts.”
“I’m not,” Zoe said. Her voice was quiet, but steady. “I don’t know where this thing with John is going. But it feels worth exploring. Not because I’m running from something, but because I’m finally open to something else.”
Brynn was silent for a beat. Then she stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. “Okay. Just…don’t lose yourself trying to find someone else.”
Zoe hugged her back, resting her chin briefly on Brynn’s shoulder. “I won’t.”
Even after the door clicked shut, Zoe stood still, the echo of Brynn’s words trailing her like a faint hum, caution shaped by love, concern shaped by shared history.
She wasn’t angry. Not really. If anything, she was grateful—for the honesty, for the challenge. Brynn’s words hadn’t shaken her resolve, but they had made her stop and examine it. And for once, that didn’t feel like pressure—it felt like care.
She wandered back into the kitchen, set the umbrella by the door and leaned on the counter, her gaze drifting to the window.
Outside, the porch light spilled across the front walk, catching on the edges of the hydrangeas, their petals fading to dusky pink and soft green. Autumn was arriving gently this year, without fanfare.
Brynn wasn’t wrong. Zoe had been hurt badly.
But when she touched her fingers to her lips, the memory of the orchard surfaced—sunlight filtering through the leaves, the warm press of John’s hand at her back, the way he’d looked at her like she was already known, not just noticed.
Not certainty. But steadiness. A quiet, grounded kind of faith that didn’t demand promises, only presence.
No, she might not have it all figured out, but she was choosing to begin again—not with guarantees, but with eyes wide open.