Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zoe woke to the sound of the front door easing shut, followed by the low rumble of a car engine fading into the distance.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. The soft glow of morning filtered through the curtains, brushing the walls with gold. The candles on the coffee table had burned down to waxy puddles, their scent still faint in the air—vanilla and something warm and smoky.
The throw blanket was still draped across her legs, holding the last of the night’s shared warmth. She shifted, the couch creaking softly beneath her, and her hand slid across the cushion beside her. Empty.
But not untouched. John’s scent lingered—clean, grounding. Cedar and something deeper, something undeniably him.
Zoe sat up slowly, brushing sleep from her eyes. Her heart gave a small, fluttering skip.
A folded note lay on the pillow where his head had been. Zoe reached for it with fingers that weren’t quite steady.
Didn’t want to wake you. Last night was…perfect. —J.
Her lips curved, unbidden, as she stared at the familiar scrawl. She could still feel the memory of his kiss lingering on her mouth, the gentle press of it, the way he’d whispered, I like being close, like it meant more than just physical nearness.
They’d kissed and then kissed some more, until her heart had raced and the world had narrowed down to him.
She’d wanted to forget everything else and just fall into him.
But it was John who had slowed things down, arms holding her tight, voice warm against her hair as he murmured quiet things she didn’t want to forget.
Somewhere between laughter and longing, they’d fallen asleep.
She leaned her head back and let it all wash over her. The tenderness. The restraint. The unspoken promise in his touch.
A knock startled her, sharp and sure.
Zoe frowned and glanced at the clock. Not quite eight.
The knock came again—three deliberate raps.
Still wearing her clothes she’d slept in last night, she padded to the door, yawning as she turned the knob.
Her mother stood on the porch.
“Good morning.” Trinity smiled brightly and held up a bag. “Your dad had a craving for coffee cake, so I was up early baking. Thought you might like some, too.”
Zoe sniffed the air, her taste buds tingling with anticipation. “Smells amazing.”
Stepping aside, she motioned her mother inside. “Please tell me you’re not in a rush.”
“Not this morning.” Trinity leaned in and wrapped her arms around Zoe for a quick hug. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. We’ve been like ships lately. It’s nice to have a quiet moment together.”
“I haven’t made coffee yet, but it will only take a sec.”
“Well, I just happen to have a sec.” She looped an arm around Zoe’s waist as they walked toward the kitchen. “It’s too bad John couldn’t stay. He was driving off just as I pulled up.”
Zoe blinked, then waved an airy hand. “We fell asleep on the couch watching a movie.”
Trinity chuckled. “Must’ve been a real nail-biter.”
Zoe thought of the scream that had made them both jump, her hand flying to her heart, and grinned. “Oh, it had its moments.”
“Well,” her mom said, pulling out plates, “he seems like a genuinely good man.”
“He is,” Zoe said quietly, but with conviction.
While Zoe scooped grounds into the coffeemaker, her mom plated thick slices of warm coffee cake. The cinnamon-sugar scent filled the kitchen like a hug.
Soon, they sat across from each other at the table, steam curling up from their mugs.
“I heard you and John showed up to Fun Night,” Trinity said, stirring cream into her coffee. “I kept an eye out.”
“You were there?” Zoe asked, pausing in midbite.
“Bake sale table,” Trinity replied. “Raime wanted to be with her friends, so I stayed close but out of sight. River was home with your dad.”
“We didn’t stay long.” Zoe took a slow sip of coffee. “Wandered around, bid on a couple of things, then left before it got too loud.”
Her mother took a sip, watching her over the rim of her mug. “I’m surprised you went at all.”
“Brynn invited me,” Zoe said, then added with a half shrug, “and John was game.”
Trinity arched a brow, voice gentle. “You and John are…”
“Dating,” Zoe said, setting down her mug, fingers curling around its warmth. “Yes. We are.”
“Dating,” Trinity repeated, as if trying the word on her tongue.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Zoe added quickly, “because I’ve already heard it from Brynn. She thinks I could be using John to get back at Erik. I can tell she thinks it’s too soon. Too fast. I’m all psychologist-upped. ”
But instead of protesting, her mother said, “That’s not what I was going to say.”
Zoe stilled.
“Some things don’t need time to grow,” Trinity said, her voice quiet. “When I met your father, I just…knew. There was a comfort with him right from the start.”
“And attraction, too, I assume.”
Her mother laughed, and her cheeks pinked. “Oh yes.”
“I knew John back in Austin,” Zoe said. “He and Erik were close, so we crossed paths at events. I always enjoyed talking with him.”
“Do you think he was sweet on you back then?”
Zoe wobbled the cup in her hand. She thought back to the interactions she could remember.
“I know he liked me as a person,” she said, wanting to be honest, not only with her mother, but with herself. “While he was friendly and always listened when I had something to say, he never flirted. If he had, I’d have shut it down. I considered him a friend.”
Emotion pressed unexpectedly against Zoe’s throat. “Which is probably why it stung when he didn’t reach out after Erik broke it off. I mean, I know he was Erik’s buddy, but I thought…I mattered. I thought he was my friend, too.”
Trinity’s expression softened as she forked off a bite of coffee cake. “What did he say when you asked why?”
Zoe paused, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup. “We haven’t talked much about Erik. I told John I don’t want to drag the past into this.”
Her mom studied her. “Not at all?”
Zoe shook her head. “When John first got to town, he tried. I made it clear I don’t want to go there.”
Trinity nodded slowly, then set down her fork. “That’s your choice. But if you keep seeing him…” She looked up, her eyes kind. “You might need to go there eventually.”
Zoe didn’t argue. Instead, she said quietly, “The more I get to know him now—here, not through the lens of Austin—the more I like him.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Her mother reached across the table and touched her hand. “Not because you’re trying to move on or prove anything. Just because it feels right.”
“It does.”
Trinity smiled. “I trust your instincts.”
“Even after Erik?”
Her mom gave her hand a light squeeze. “Especially after Erik. That heartbreak taught you what matters, what you want—and don’t want—in a partner.”
Zoe swallowed a bite of cake, then chased it with coffee. “I want someone honest. Erik didn’t just wake up three months before our wedding and decide that he didn’t want me, that I wasn’t enough. He had doubts. He just never said them out loud.”
“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Trinity said. “But I’m not sorry he’s not the one.”
“Until John showed up, I hardly thought of him anymore. Which is weird, right? I was supposed to marry him. Now it feels like…like it happened to someone else.”
“Maybe it’s because this—what you’re building now—is real.”
Zoe looked down at her cup, then up again. “Speaking of breakups, how’s River?”
“Ah, the resilience of youth.” Trinity’s lips quirked upward. “He’s already distracted by a new girl, I think.”
“On the rebound, huh?” Zoe chuckled.
“Everyone you date teaches you something,” Trinity said, her tone turning thoughtful. “What you value. What you need. And what you’ll never settle for again.”
Zoe nodded. A quiet filled the air between them. When she glanced at the hallway mirror, her breath caught.
The woman staring back at her looked different.
Not because of the messy hair or yesterday’s rumpled clothes. But because there was a softness in her eyes. Something had shifted. She wasn’t bracing for the next blow. She was simply…here.
Zoe smiled faintly.
“I know what I want now,” she said aloud, more to herself than to her mother.
Trinity smiled back. “You always did have a good head on your shoulders.”
Zoe rose and crossed to the coffeepot. She poured them both fresh cups as sunlight spilled across the table.
The scent of cinnamon clung to the air, but beneath it was something new, something hopeful, rising warm and slow like morning sun.
John let the door click shut behind him, the familiar creak echoing softly in the quiet. Sunlight streamed across the hardwood floor, warming the space that had once felt impersonal. Now, after last night, even the silence felt different.
He toed off his shoes, tossed his keys into the bowl on the console table and grabbed his phone when it dinged.
Not Zoe.
The text was from the silent-auction committee: Congratulations, Mr. Logan. You are the high bidder of dinner for two at the Mason Street Grill and a night at the historic Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee…
There was more, but his brain had already snagged on the possibilities. The thought of asking Zoe stirred a quiet flutter in his chest—hopeful, maybe a little reckless. Too soon?
His thumb hovered, then tapped Michael’s name in his contacts.
The phone rang twice before his brother picked up. “You’re alive. I was starting to wonder.”
John huffed a laugh and sank onto the arm of the sofa. “Good morning to you, too.”
“I texted last night to check in, and it’s now…” A pause as he checked the time. “Almost nine. I figured either you were abducted or in bed with someone amazing.”
“Option three,” John said. “Fell asleep on the couch with someone amazing.”
Michael let out a low whistle. “You slept over?”
“Unplanned.” John let his head fall back against the wall. “Movie night turned into popcorn and talking. She fell asleep on me, and…I didn’t want to leave.”
Michael paused. “Was this with Zoe?”