Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next week flew by as Zoe and John worked together to create a consistent brand voice for the Daily Grind’s national rollout. Earlier in the week, they’d met with her father to discuss adding merchandise as another revenue stream for the stores.
It had been an exhausting few days, but the kind that left Zoe energized rather than drained.
John was in Michigan today for his father’s birthday. He’d invited her to join him, but she’d declined.
So when Brynn called to suggest a bike ride, Zoe jumped at the chance.
Morning sunlight filtered through a canopy of gold and russet leaves, casting shifting shadows across the trail.
The air held that unmistakable crispness of early fall, apple-sweet and cool enough to make her feel alive with every breath.
The wheels of her cruiser hummed as she coasted down a gentle slope, Brynn matching her pace.
“This day is ridiculous,” Zoe said, lifting her face to the sun. “Is there anything better than a crisp fall morning, a bike ride and nowhere to be?”
“The sex must’ve been stellar,” Brynn said dryly.
Zoe jerked the handlebars slightly. “What?”
“You’re glowing. Your eyes are sparkly. You even whistled back there, Zoe. Whistled.”
Zoe burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, I’m in a good mood. But can a girl not enjoy a perfect morning without her best friend assuming she’s had, and I quote, ‘stellar’ sex?”
Brynn grinned. “It was stellar, then.”
Zoe let the laughter fade before the truth slipped out, quiet but firm. “No sex. Not yet. But I am in love with him.”
Brynn turned her head sharply, her ponytail swinging. “What? When did you decide that?”
“I’ve thought it for a while,” Zoe admitted. “But saying it out loud just now…it feels real. Like, not a maybe. Not an ‘I could see myself falling.’ I’ve already fallen. I love him.”
For a moment, the only sounds were tires over gravel and the rustle of leaves in the trees.
“He seems like a great guy,” Brynn said at last, her voice measured.
“‘A great guy’?” Zoe scoffed. “Brynn, I just handed you my heart, and you’re giving me a Yelp review?”
Brynn shot her a rueful look. “You told me you were in love with Erik, too, remember?”
Zoe sighed. “I remember.”
“I like John. A lot. So does Callum.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“No ‘but.’” Brynn’s expression softened. “Just…I feel like I should be the voice of reason. Doesn’t it feel even the least bit weird being with one of Erik’s closest friends? And if it’s not weird, why isn’t it?”
Zoe’s grip tightened on the handlebars, her knuckles pale.
“John seems nice, but don’t you think it’s kind of strange that he’s willing to go after his friend’s ex?” Brynn continued. “I still wonder if there’s a tiny part of you doing this to get back at Erik.”
“You asked me that before,” Zoe said, her temper down to a thread. “And I told you no then, and I’m telling you now: I’m not doing this to get back at Erik.”
Brynn didn’t speak right away.
“And for the record, John and I were friends in Austin,” Zoe added. “So no, I don’t think it’s strange that we’re together now. Frankly, I resent having to explain myself again. Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I want you to be happy. I really do.” Brynn’s tone turned gentler. “I just want you to pause. Like you made me pause when I first got together with Callum. John may be a great guy, but you barely know him.”
Zoe looked out across the open field they were riding past—cows grazing beyond a whitewashed fence, the kind of view that had once made her itch for something more. Now, it just looked like home.
“I don’t think time always matters,” she said quietly. “I knew Erik longer, and that didn’t protect me. With John, it’s different. It’s not just attraction or shared goals. It’s…easy. Real. When I’m with him, I feel like the best version of myself.”
Brynn slowed, letting the words settle. “I hear you. And for the record, I believe you. I just want to make sure you’re not rushing because you’re scared of being alone.”
“I was scared after Erik,” Zoe said. “But not anymore. I’m not falling for John because I need someone. I’m falling for him because…well, I just am. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.”
Brynn reached over and tapped Zoe’s handlebars lightly. “Then I’ll trust you to know your heart and support you. Therapist hat off. Just friend mode. Besides, if you’re in love, I expect s’mores nights, couples game nights and lots of double dates.”
“You got it,” Zoe said with a grin.
They rode in companionable silence for a stretch, wheels crunching over fallen leaves, hearts a little lighter.
Zoe’s thoughts drifted to John—how he’d stopped by that morning just to kiss her before heading out of town and how natural it had felt, like they’d been doing that for years.
She might still be figuring out the shape of their future, but with the wind in her hair and her best friend beside her, she knew one thing for sure: She loved him.
And for the first time in a long time, love felt like something she could trust.
The house was quiet, save for the low hum of the dishwasher and the occasional creak from the old floorboards beneath her bare feet.
Zoe curled her fingers around her favorite mug, now half full of lukewarm coffee.
She stood at the window overlooking the backyard, watching a pair of squirrels chase each other across the lawn like they had all the time in the world.
Her phone sat on the counter, untouched since John had texted her that morning to say he and his family were heading to brunch before he hit the road back to Good Hope.
She missed him.
It wasn’t a desperate ache, more a steady hum beneath her skin. A sense of being slightly off-balance, like part of her rhythm was missing.
She thought of the kiss he’d left her with yesterday morning. Gentle. Grounding. Familiar in a way that made her heart ache.
Still, they hadn’t crossed that final line.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. God, she did. The memory of his hands, his mouth, the way he made her feel like the only woman in the world—those things weren’t in question.
So why hadn’t she invited him in?
She took another sip of coffee, now cold and bitter.
Maybe it was self-protection. Maybe a small part of her still feared that taking that step would open a door she couldn’t close if things went wrong.
Or maybe, deep down, she was waiting for some kind of unspoken sign, something to tell her that this time it was safe to fall without a net.
Zoe let out a breath and set her mug down. It wasn’t fear of John. Not even of what they had.
It was the fear of what loving someone so deeply could cost her if it slipped away.
But the thing was…she already loved him. She’d already leaped. Holding back physically wasn’t shielding her from anything—it was just stalling the inevitable.
She was tired of being the girl who waited for the other shoe to drop.
Zoe glanced at the clock. If he’d left when he said he would, he’d be back in a few hours.
This time, when he pulled into the driveway, she didn’t want to hesitate.
She wanted to show him—completely—what she already knew in her heart.
She was his.
John closed the trunk of his car and took one last long breath of the crisp Michigan air, tinged faintly with the scent of damp leaves and charcoal from someone’s morning firepit.
It had been a good visit. His dad had manned the grill like he always did, telling the same stories to his grandsons that he’d once told John and Michael.
His mom made her famous potato salad, and Lydia brought a bakery cake that delighted the kids more than the candles.
Michael teased him about the travel coffee mug he’d purchased on his and Zoe’s spy trip—and John had even managed a quiet walk with his mother before sunset, just the two of them.
Still, as he tossed his overnight bag into the back of his SUV, his thoughts weren’t on the weekend they’d just had.
He was thinking of Zoe.
Not in the distracted, daydreamy way he might have last month, when she was simply an unexpected twist in his life. No, this was different. Grounded. Steady. A low hum that had become the background rhythm to everything else.
He thought about the way she’d looked yesterday morning, barefoot in the doorway, hair tousled as she held a mug of coffee like it was a sacred object. She hadn’t invited him in the night before, and he hadn’t pushed. But if he was being honest, he’d hoped.
Still, the kiss she’d given him that morning when he’d swung by to say good-bye had said everything her silence hadn’t.
Now, with the miles stretching between them, all he could think about was getting back. To Good Hope. To her.
He pushed the ignition, the engine purring to life. The road home would take just over four hours, give or take traffic.
He’d make it in three and a half.
As he pulled away from the curb, sunlight filtered through the trees overhead, casting golden dapples across the windshield. A good day for a drive.
But even better, he thought, would be the moment he saw her again.
And whatever pace she set, he’d match it. Because this—they—were worth the wait.
Zoe heard the knock just before the kettle clicked off.
She padded to the door, tea towel slung over her shoulder, heart leaping even though she already knew who it was. The way she always knew now.
John stood on the porch, wearing that crooked half smile that made her stomach tumble and a navy button-down that still held a soft wrinkle from hours behind the wheel. He looked like he’d driven straight from Michigan without stopping—and knowing him, he probably had.
“Hey,” she said, already smiling.
“Hey, yourself.” He took a step closer but didn’t come in. “Too late?”
Zoe shook her head. “Perfect timing. I was making tea.”
He glanced past her shoulder, then back to her. “Mind if I join you?”
She stepped aside. “Only if you’re okay with honey instead of sugar.”
As he moved past her, their arms brushed. It wasn’t intentional, not really. But it felt like static—warm and charged and familiar.
In the kitchen, she poured hot water into two mugs, sliding one toward him. “Rooibos or boring?”
“Boring,” he said, but there was amusement in his voice as he took a sip anyway.
They stood in the quiet for a beat, steam curling between them. Then John leaned against the counter and studied her face like he was memorizing it.
“I missed you,” he said simply.
Zoe’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “I missed you, too.”
Another silence. Comfortable.
Then he said, “I was thinking about the other night.”
“So was I.”
He set down his mug. “Zoe, I’m not in a rush. I mean that. But if the reason we haven’t…” He stopped, rubbed the back of his neck. “If there’s something holding you back, I just want to understand. Not push.”
Her lips curved, heart tugging toward him even more. “It’s not you. It’s not even Erik—not really. I think I just needed to know this is real. That you are real.”
John took a step closer, then another, until there was barely space between them. “And now?”
She reached up, fingers lightly grazing the stubble along his jaw. “Now, I know.”
He didn’t kiss her right away. Just held her gaze, searching, like he was giving her the chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
When he kissed her, it wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was quiet, reverent. A question, then an answer. And when she slid her arms around his neck and leaned in fully, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Whatever came next, they’d get there together. And she had no doubt it would be stellar.
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the half-closed blinds, brushing golden streaks across Zoe’s bedroom wall. The room was warm and still, save for the soft sound of her breathing, slow and steady.
John lay beside her, propped on one elbow, watching her in that half-dream state between sleep and waking. Her hair was a tangle on the pillow, her bare shoulder peeking out, her hand resting loosely against his chest.
He’d meant to let her sleep. Meant to close his eyes and enjoy the peace of simply being there with her. But peace had never looked quite like this before.
Not wrapped in quiet skin-on-skin comfort. Colored by trust instead of urgency.
Zoe stirred, her brows drawing together for a second before smoothing again. Her eyes fluttered open, sleep-laced and soft.
“Hey,” she murmured.
He smiled. “Hey.”
They didn’t say more right away. Words would come later. Right now, it was enough to just be, to feel the quiet hum of something that didn’t need defining.
Zoe’s fingers slid down, skimming his ribs. “Did you sleep?”
“Some,” he said. “Didn’t want to miss anything.”
Her lips curved, but her eyes searched his face. “You’re okay?”
“I am,” he said, brushing a hand through her hair. “Are you?”
She hesitated just a beat, then nodded. “More than okay.”
They lay there a little longer, bodies tangled, breath synced. It felt like the beginning of something real. And for once, neither of them felt the need to rush ahead or look back.
Only forward.
Together.