Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The headlights cut across the quiet lot as Zoe pulled up in front of the Daily Grind.
The café’s windows were dark, the streetlamps casting long shadows across the sidewalk.
She shifted into park and turned off the engine.
Silence settled around them, broken only by the soft ticks of the cooling car.
John unbuckled his seat belt, but he didn’t move.
Zoe glanced over, one hand still resting on the wheel. “Thanks for coming tonight. I know it wasn’t exactly the Sunday you planned.”
“I don’t know,” he said lightly. “We sipped coffee in disguise and cased rival businesses. Pretty sure we’re one step away from being a buddy-cop movie.”
Zoe laughed, the sound soft in the hush of the car. “And you didn’t even complain when I dragged you through that gift shop next to Bert’s Diner.”
“I was too distracted by the candle that smelled like ‘moss and ambition.’ Still not over it.”
They sat for a beat, neither quite ready to move.
John nodded toward his car. “You want me to follow you? To make sure you get home okay?”
She tilted her head, reading the question behind the offer.
“That’s very…thoughtful,” she said, her voice warm if a little cautious.
He didn’t push. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Zoe looked at him—really looked. His steady gaze. The quiet way his hand rested on the console, like he could wait all night if that’s what she needed. A drift of night air slipped in through the vent, bringing with it the scent of leaves and distant woodsmoke.
“I’m okay,” she said at last, gently. “But thank you.”
He offered a small smile. “Okay.”
She reached for the door handle, but he was already out, rounding the car to open the door for her. She stepped out and met him on the sidewalk, the space between them charged in that particular way it sometimes was—quiet, but brimming.
John hesitated, then reached up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Tonight was really good.”
“It was,” she echoed softly.
He leaned in—not rushed, not assuming, just a slow drift of breath and intent. She met him halfway.
The kiss was soft. Lingering. When it ended, neither of them moved.
Then he kissed her again, and the world tipped.
By the time they came up for air, Zoe wasn’t the only one catching her breath.
She rested her forehead against his for a brief second. “Drive safe.”
“You, too.” He laced their fingers together for a moment before releasing her hand.
He walked to where his car waited but didn’t open the door right away. Instead, he turned, waiting.
Their eyes met across the dark lot.
Zoe’s heart thumped hard.
After a few long seconds, she realized he wouldn’t leave until she did.
She lifted her hand in a quiet wave, then slipped behind the wheel and pulled away, watching him in the rearview until he faded from view.
As she drove home, she couldn’t help but wonder: Had she made a mistake not asking him to come home with her?
John stood in the cool night air, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, watching Zoe’s taillights disappear down Main Street.
The moment stretched, quiet and still, broken only by the creak of a sign in the breeze and the distant hum of a car turning somewhere far off.
He hadn’t expected her to say yes—not really. But part of him had hoped. The part that had grown used to the warmth of her laugh, the quiet steadiness of her presence, the way she looked at him like she saw more than just who he was now, but who he might still become.
He glanced toward the coffee shop, its darkened windows reflecting nothing but the night behind him. Funny how the same place where they’d started this day was where they’d ended it. It bookended their day, bookended them.
Letting out a soft breath, John finally reached for his door, pausing with his hand on the handle.
She hadn’t said no.
And somehow, that was enough.
Still, even as the road stretched ahead, his thoughts circled back to her, to the connection he’d felt and the ache of not knowing for sure if she’d felt it, too.
On Wednesday, John took Zoe sailing. Though the air had carried the crisp edge of fall lately, the forecast called for sunny skies and temperatures in the midseventies—a perfect day for being on the water.
“I know you said you had something special planned, but this is our boat?” Zoe asked, wide-eyed. “For the whole day?”
“For the entire day,” John confirmed, watching her face light up.
She gave a delighted laugh. “It’s gorgeous.”
The thirty-five-foot sloop gleamed under the sun, the polished deck warm beneath their feet. With electric winches, autopilot and sleek lines, it was built for ease and elegance. John could’ve handled it solo, but he’d been quietly pleased to see Zoe knew her way around a sailboat.
She moved confidently, adjusting lines and ducking the boom with ease.
She wore a ball cap pulled low to shade her eyes and shorts that showed off a pair of long, tanned legs he was doing his best not to stare at.
They’d both dressed in layers over swimsuits—practical, easy to shed if the mood struck.
He’d considered taking the boat out onto the open waters of Lake Michigan for the dramatic coastline views. But storms could build fast out there, and today wasn’t about proving anything. Today was about simply being with her.
“I know I said it before,” Zoe said as she took a seat near the bow, lifting her face toward the sun, “but thank you for this.”
John opened his mouth to reply, but she barreled on.
“I mean, I was fully prepared to spend today reviewing employee training materials again, just to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. But this?” She swept her arm out toward the shimmering water. “This is what I actually needed.”
She blew out a long breath. “Every time I think of my dad’s upcoming surgery—I know they say it’s routine, but…” Her words trailed off. She didn’t finish the sentence.
John didn’t need her to.
He sat beside her, reached for her hand and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze.
She laced her fingers with his, letting the sun warm their joined hands. “But we’re not going to talk about that today,” she said brightly. “Today’s for the water. The wind. And maybe a snack or two if you packed well.”
“You don’t trust my provisioning skills?”
“That depends. Did you bring peanut M&M’s or the sad trail mix kind that tries too hard?”
John grinned. “Only the best for you.”
She tilted her head. “Be honest. How did you know I love sailing?”
He almost said, How could you grow up here and not? But she was looking at him with such open trust that he gave her the real answer.
“I remembered that weekend on Lake Travis,” he said. “The one where Erik brought a couple of clients along, and we ended up moored at Devil’s Cove.”
“Wow. That feels like a lifetime ago.” Her expression softened. “I remember that day. Erik was busy with the clients. You and I talked for hours. I felt a little guilty, like I was keeping you from the party.”
“I wasn’t exactly heartbroken to miss the schmoozing. I liked being with you.”
Her eyes met his, something unspoken passing between them.
“I did, too,” she said quietly. “Though for the record, I still don’t agree with your stance on pineapple on pizza.”
He gave her a mock sigh. “We’ll just have to agree that you have questionable taste.”
Zoe grinned, then grew thoughtful. “That really was a good day.”
“Not all those days in the past were bad,” he said gently.
“No,” she agreed. “There were good moments.”
They drifted in silence for a bit, the boat gently rocking, the sails snapping softly.
Tilting her head back, Zoe gazed up at the perfect blue sky. “I think when you’re young and in your first serious relationship, it’s easy to mistake chemistry for compatibility. Noise for connection. It takes getting burned to learn what actually matters.”
He turned to look at her. “And you know what matters now?”
She met his gaze. “I do.” Her smile was soft. Steady. “Trust. Kindness. Someone who shows up and keeps showing up.”
A beat passed, and then he asked the question that had been sitting quietly between them. “It surprises me that you’re not angry with him.”
Zoe’s gaze dropped to the water. “I was more hurt than anything. Hurt and angry that he waited so long to tell me.”
Her shoulders tensed. She sat up straighter, pulling her hand away to gesture as emotion surged. “I was humiliated. I was the one stuck canceling all the wedding plans. I was the one explaining things to guests and vendors while trying to hold it together. My family—” She broke off, exhaling hard.
“You were also strong enough to walk away,” he said.
“What choice was there?” She looked at him, searching his face.
“You were glad he told you,” John added, voice low.
She gave a soft scoff. “Of course. When I marry someone, I want to be the most important person in their world. I want their whole heart. He couldn’t give me that.”
John reached out again and gently took her hand. “You deserve all that and more.”
Under the brilliant blue sky, with the sun warming their skin and the boat slicing effortlessly through the water, he kissed her.
When she kissed him back, soft and sure, it felt like a yes. To this moment. To him.
The boat bumped gently against the dock as John secured the last line, looping it with practiced ease. The late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the harbor, setting the water ablaze with ripples of amber and silver.
Zoe stood at the stern, expertly coiling a line and hanging it neatly on its hook. “Lines are coiled, fenders are out, and the mainsail’s secured,” she said, brushing her windblown hair out of her face. “I think we make a pretty solid team.”
John tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “I knew you’d be helpful, but I didn’t know you’d be a first mate who puts me to shame.”
She lifted a brow. “First mate? Please. I practically ran this boat.”
He laughed, stepping across the deck toward her. “I’ll give you that. You had me beat on finesse. I’m all brawn and boom-dodging.”
“You mean that accidental jibe was a technique?” she teased.
He lifted both hands. “Controlled chaos.”
She gave him a look. “You almost launched my hat into Green Bay.”
John stepped close, reached out and adjusted the ball cap on her head. “But I didn’t. Because I’ve got excellent reflexes. And, possibly, a mild fear of your glare.”
Zoe smirked. “Smart man.”
He leaned against the rail beside her, watching the last boats trickle in under a slowly darkening sky. “Thanks for today,” she said, her voice quieter now. “For knowing I needed this even before I did.”
John didn’t say anything at first. Just let the breeze carry the silence between them, soft and full of understanding.
“I liked seeing you like this,” he said finally. “Sun in your hair. Confident. Capable. Free.”
Her smile dimmed just a little, in that way it sometimes did when something hit deeper than she expected. “It’s easy to feel that way out here.”
He reached for her hand. “Then we’ll find more of these moments. On land or water.”
She tilted her head, considering. “You sure you can handle that kind of commitment? All that ‘teamwork’ and ‘letting me take the helm’?”
John gave her a mock-serious nod. “I’m prepared to negotiate terms.”
“Hmm.” Zoe squeezed his hand and stepped down onto the dock, then glanced back. “Then I suggest you start with dinner.”
He laughed, hopping down beside her. “A sailor and a negotiator. You’re full of surprises.”
She glanced at him, eyes shining. “You have no idea.”
They walked together down the dock, side by side, their hands brushing again as the marina lights flickered on and the sun faded into evening.