Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
On Friday, Zoe and John had tucked themselves into a quiet corner of the Daily Grind.
Around them, the warm hum of conversation blended with the rich scent of espresso, wrapping the space in a familiar kind of comfort.
Laptops sat open, coffee mugs half drained.
Between them sat a plate littered with buttery crumbs, the only evidence of the pastries they’d inhaled without thinking.
They’d spent the past hour immersed in brainstorming mode, sketching out the details of the Cherries and Chill Pop-Up.
Zoe felt electric with momentum, ideas flying faster than she could type.
What lit her up most was the way they sparked off each other.
John pitched without hesitation, and she caught his wild suggestions midair, shaping them into something viable.
“Cherry pit-spitting contest?” he offered with mock solemnity.
Zoe didn’t miss a beat. “Only if we add a branded poncho to protect innocent bystanders.”
They grinned and kept going.
They no longer worried if an idea was perfect right out of the gate.
They chased creativity, built momentum, refined on the fly.
Some concepts got tossed in seconds. Others evolved and circled back with new energy.
Six slides in, Zoe felt a swell of pride, both in the project and in the partnership taking shape across the table.
It had been the same last night when they’d met with her father to go over the financials. After a vigorous discussion of the pros and cons of franchising versus corporate-owned, they’d landed on a franchising model.
Zoe had started the evening leaning toward corporate-owned. But by the time they’d risen to leave, she’d been on board with franchising.
Her dad had mentioned Wyatt called after they visited Cherry Acres, impressed with her and John’s ideas. That confidence from her father had hit Zoe deep. It made today’s work feel like more than just planning—it felt like building something real.
Across from her, John typed with intense focus, brows knit, sleeves pushed to his elbows.
He looked like a man on a mission—except when he glanced up, caught her gaze and offered a quiet, knowing smile that sent a gentle flurry through her chest. She let herself linger there for a moment, warmth unfurling low and slow.
“I’m heading out,” Astrid called from behind the counter, slipping on her coat.
Zoe blinked and looked up. “Is it five already?”
Astrid nodded toward the front window. “Mason’s here. You two have the place. See you tomorrow.”
Zoe waved, then checked her laptop clock. “Wow. That flew.”
She began shutting things down, brushing the last of the crumbs aside.
John looked up, surprised. “You’re done? I thought we were just getting warmed up.”
She smiled. “We were. But we’re meeting Brynn and Callum, remember? Fun Night at the school?”
“Ah, yes.” A glint of mischief touched his eyes. “Carnival games, sticky fingers, elementary school chaos—a truly seductive Friday night.”
She laughed. When she’d first brought it up, she wasn’t sure he’d go for it. Honestly, she hadn’t been entirely sure she wanted to go herself. But now?
“You’ll love it,” she said lightly. “Parker in full sugar-fueled mode is a sight to behold.”
John stood and stretched, then stepped closer, his voice dipping low. “Truthfully? I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
She arched a brow. “Seriously?”
He held her gaze. “I want to be wherever you are.”
The words landed like a promise, uncomplicated and quiet, but somehow everything.
She brushed her fingers lightly against his as she grabbed her jacket, her voice softening. “Then let’s go make some memories.”
John wasn’t sure what to think when Zoe reached for his hand as they headed up the walkway to Good Hope Elementary, but he liked it.
Actually, he loved it.
The weight of her palm in his felt easy, familiar. Like they’d done this a hundred times before. And after the talk they’d had earlier that afternoon, it felt like they were finally back on track—on that road he’d thought they’d been walking before the awkward detour at the pond.
The air was crisp, laced with the scent of dry leaves and faint whiffs of caramel from vendors near the parking lot. It had that unmistakable feel of early autumn, where summer still clung to the edges, but sweaters were starting to show up.
A swirl of laughter and energy surrounded them, kids in colorful jackets darting up the walk, trailing excited chatter behind them, parents balancing trays of baked goods, grandparents with their steady steps. Fun Night, it turned out, was a full-blown community event.
John squeezed Zoe’s hand gently. “Do you see anyone you know?”
Zoe scanned the crowd with a tilt of her head, eyes flicking thoughtfully. “Not really. Most of my former classmates don’t have kids this age yet. A couple, maybe, but they’re the exception, not the rule.”
“Same with my crew.” He chuckled softly. “Though quite a few have tied the knot.”
And if he hadn’t said something to Erik…Zoe would’ve been married by now, too. And likely miserable.
John shook off the thought as he held the door open for a trio of kids dragging their exhausted-looking dad behind them.
Unlike everyone else, he and Zoe didn’t seem in a rush. They moved more slowly, content to soak it all in.
“Did you go to this school?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t move to Good Hope until middle school.”
Right. After her mom had passed.
“I’m sorry about your mom.” His tone softened as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Was she ill for a long time?”
“No.” Zoe’s voice was even, but distant. “It was quick. Unexpected.”
He caught the flicker in her eyes and didn’t press further.
John pivoted, lightening the moment. “If you could play any of the Fun Night games, which one would you pick?”
The shift in her mood was almost immediate. Her shoulders relaxed, her lips tugging up into a grin.
“I’m not sure if they still have it, but can knockdown was my jam.”
“Seriously?” He raised a brow, impressed. “My brother and I loved that one. We got so competitive.”
“Really?”
“There was this one year,” John started, grinning at the memory, “I’d knocked down the cans three times in a row.
Michael had done it twice but was determined to best me.
He threw the foam ball so hard that it not only knocked down the cans, but it also hit the school mascot, who was in the gym.
Michael said hitting the gopher gave him extra points and called himself the grand champion. ”
John grinned. “I disagreed, of course. Mostly for form. It didn’t matter that much to me.”
Zoe laughed, eyes dancing. “It sounds like it mattered a lot to him.”
John placed a hand to his heart, mock offended. “Have you been secretly texting my brother?”
She smirked. “Nope. Just grew up around plenty of competitive types. Ever heard of the Brody twins?”
John followed her subtle nod—Callum and Brynn were already inside with Parker, who was skipping over the floor tiles like they were lava.
“I’m so glad you two made it,” Brynn greeted as they stepped inside. “This place holds so many memories, but seeing it through Parker’s eyes… It’s like magic.”
“Where’s the cakewalk?” Parker asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “I have to do the cakewalk first.”
Brynn whipped out her phone, scrolling quickly. “Room 31. Let’s go.”
John blinked. “What happened to the paper maps all the schools used to hand out?”
Callum clapped him on the shoulder. “Those, my man, went the way of CD players.”
“What’s a CD?” Parker asked.
All four adults burst into laughter.
Parker ran down the hall.
Brynn turned to Zoe and John. “Are you going to watch?”
Zoe took John’s hand and gave it a swing. “I think we’ll check out the silent-auction offerings,” she said.
John breathed a sigh of relief. He liked kids, but this hadn’t been the way he thought he and Zoe would spend their Friday night.
“I promised Brynn I’d come.” Zoe spoke in a low tone as they wove their way through the crowded hallway. “I didn’t say how long we’d stay.”
He smiled. “I’m liking where this is headed.”
“Let’s check out the silent auction and then call it good.”
“Sounds like a plan I can get behind.”
They ducked into a room lined with tables, where displays of gift baskets, restaurant certificates and local business packages were laid out with bidding sheets.
Zoe paused to admire a basket filled with books and tea.
John, meanwhile, scanned the far end of the table and stopped in front of a neatly framed flyer.
“Dinner and a night at the Pfister,” he murmured, reading aloud. “Milwaukee’s finest. Very old-world glam.”
Zoe leaned in to take a closer look. “That place is stunning. I remember going to a wedding there once. The staircase alone looks like something out of a movie.”
He glanced at her, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Think we’d survive one night in a fancy hotel together?”
Her lips curved. “I guess we’ll never know…unless you win.”
He picked up the pen, casually scrawling his name and a bid. “Well, then, here’s to possibilities.”
As Zoe and John stepped out of the school, the cool and crisp night air wrapped around them like a favorite sweatshirt, tinged with woodsmoke and the lingering sweetness of caramel apples from Fun Night.
Rather than heading straight for the car, they drifted toward the square, their hands brushing occasionally, pace unhurried. Streetlights cast long golden pools on the sidewalk, and in the distance, laughter floated on the breeze, faint but familiar.
Somewhere behind them, the school band played its final encore. Zoe found herself humming along, soft and absent-minded, until John slowed his steps and turned toward the fountain.
“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice low, threaded with something tender.
Zoe blinked. “Here?”
He offered his hand, palm open, steady. “Your friends are watching,” he said with a glance toward the bronze figures of the Good Hope matriarchs, smiling like coconspirators in the moonlight. “We can’t let them down.”
A surprised laugh bubbled up in her chest as she slipped her hand into his. “Well, then. I suppose we’d better give them a show.”
There, beneath the stars, on a quiet sidewalk framed by lamplight and the hush of late evening, he drew her close. No music played. No audience watched. It was only the two of them, swaying gently in time to something unspoken.
Zoe melted into him, her cheek resting against his shoulder, his warm hand spread across her back. She closed her eyes and breathed him in—soap and shampoo and something uniquely John.
They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. The quiet was companionable, steady. Every so often, she glanced up, and their eyes met, and it felt like something unspoken was settling into place.
When a breeze swirled through, Zoe gave a small shiver.
John’s hand shifted, curling around hers. “Want to call it a night?”
She tilted her head back to look up at him, her fingers still looped through his. “Unless you’re in a rush…” Her voice was softer now. “We could watch a movie at my place. Something Halloween-y to get in the spirit.”
His lips twitched. “You’re not going to make me sit through Hocus Pocus, are you?”
“No promises,” she teased. “But I can guarantee popcorn.”
They walked back to the car hand in hand, her fingers tangled with his like they’d been made to fit.
Later, in her living room, she lit a few candles—enough to cast a warm flicker across the walls—while he searched for a movie. They landed on a not-so-scary classic they’d both seen years ago, the kind you forget the ending to but remember how it made you feel.
The scent of butter filled the air as the popcorn popped, and Zoe grabbed two Cokes before curling up beside John on the couch, tucking a soft throw around them both.
She leaned into his side, her head finding the familiar crook of his shoulder. His arm slipped around her with a quiet ease, his fingers brushing slow circles along her upper arm. It was the kind of closeness that didn’t ask for more, just offered what it had.
The movie’s opening credits rolled, but their attention drifted easily in and out.
Zoe turned slightly toward him, her voice quiet beneath the hum of the TV. “Tell me about your competitive brother.”
John’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Michael? Detective with the Marquette PD. Married. Two boys. His wife, Lydia, keeps him grounded. She’s amazing.”
“Do you see them often?”
He hesitated, the silence stretching before he said, “Not as much as I’d like. I’ve been working out of the Austin office for the past few years, but with technology, I can work anywhere. I’ve been thinking about relocating someplace closer to home.”
She looked up at him. “Marquette’s not that far from here.”
Zoe didn’t know much about the town in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, only that you could easily make the trip in half a day.
“Four hours.” He met her gaze.
Zoe’s heart gave a small, steady thump. “Thinking about visiting?”
“Something like that.” His hand found hers beneath the blanket, their fingers fitting together easily.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “Being close would be nice…”
His gaze traveled slowly over her. “I like being close.”
He leaned in then, slow and certain, and kissed her. Not urgently, not rushed, but like he meant it. Like he’d been thinking about this for a while. His lips moved gently against hers, back and forth, until she sighed into him.
A scream suddenly pierced the air, shrill and unexpected.
They both jumped, startled, before bursting into laughter as they realized it had come from the movie.
“For a second, I thought an ax murderer was coming through the door,” Zoe said, pressing a shaky hand to her chest.
John caught her hand in his, lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re safe with me.”
She looked at him then, something warm blooming in her chest.
“I know,” she whispered.
For the first time in a long while, she truly did.