Chapter 17
Landon
Zoe’s home is exactly what I expected. Warm blankets, a half-dozen throw pillows on the deep blue sofa, and balsam-scented candles over the fireplace speak to her need for an oasis. She’s always on when she’s outside these walls.
Bringing her dinner instead of trying to take her back to my place was the right choice. My generic ambiance would have reinforced how transient my life can be, preventing her from relaxing and opening up to me.
She needs to think of me as stable, reliable, and constant if we’re going to make this friendship work.
Friendship. Ha.
I shared more than she did, but what evolved over dinner is a different relationship than the one we’ve built the last month.
I love spending time with her. Cooking dinner together was the luxury I didn’t know my body craved. Like a cold glass of whiskey after a hard day at work, our evening is the refreshment I need.
If I hadn’t left the kitchen when I did, I would have done something stupid like try to kiss her.
We aren’t there.
Yet.
I glimpsed desire in her eyes, but that conversation was too tense to lead into something physical. I need to know our kiss is because she wants it, not because she’s distracting herself from hard emotions.
She’s finally seeing the lies she’s lived with. We need to take things slow so she doesn’t regret our time together.
Zoe owns several dozen vinyl records, mostly boy bands from the 2010s, but tucked in the back I find an old Reba McEntire album that suits my needs.
Setting the needle, Reba’s rich voice carries through the house.
“Really?” She steps around the corner and sips her wine. She took her hair out of its bun, and the cascade over her shoulder makes me want to pull her close again.
She doesn’t realize how beautiful she is—or how much I wish I was the glass in her hand and she was pressing her lips to mine.
She embodies a peacefulness that’s addictive. Why doesn’t she realize that about herself?
Just breathing the same air lowers my blood pressure. I forget about the prospectus I owe my dad or the merger our shipping company needs to finalize.
All that exists, in this moment, is her. No distractions.
I’ll delay every step of the Reeves project if it means more nights like this with her.
I lift my shoulder. “It was the only country album that you had.”
“And you’re a big fan?”
“It’s different from all your other albums.” Since it’s unique in her collection, I wanted to see what she’d say when she heard it.
“I wouldn’t have guessed you are a Reba fan.”
“Why is it the only one?”
“It was my mom’s.” Her expression clouds, her eyebrows draw together, and her jaw tightens. “When Dad was getting rid of everything else, I kept it. She liked to listen to this record when she baked cookies in the afternoons.”
What wouldn’t I have given to come home to freshly baked cookies every day? “My mom doesn’t cook.”
“You mentioned her chef.”
“My mom burned water and was banned from feeding us a long time ago.”
“Ouch.”
“What she lacks in culinary skill, she makes up for in business acumen. I learned more about international trade from her than I did from my dad. Like you, she’s the brains of the operation.”
Zoe’s cheeks flush. “There’s a lot of love in your voice when you talk about her.” She settles on the arm of her sofa.
“She’s an amazing woman. You two will get along.”
Zoe sputters into her wine glass. “That’s presumptuous. What makes you think I’ll ever meet her?”
“She’ll be at the grand opening. Won’t you?”
“Yes.” Her answer is long and drawn out, like she’s looking for a loophole.
The simple answer isn’t enough anyway. I don’t imagine Zoe meeting my mother as Rainwater Bay’s assistant mayor. I want to introduce her as my girlfriend, but Zoe is skittish, and I won’t scare her with that fact.
A bowl with several boxes of playing cards decorates the coffee table. I pick one up and flick open the package. “Interesting centerpiece.”
“They’re pretty.”
I flick through the cards in my hand. A picture of the Seattle Space Needle decorates the backside. The other decks have similar landmarks, beaches, and forests. “Travel souvenirs?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?”
“San Francisco.”
“The sourdough bread or the Ghirardelli chocolate?”
She points to a photograph on her mantle. “Watching the sunset over the Golden Gate Bridge.”
She’s standing on a beach with her arms spread wide and face tipped to the dying light. Orange and red hues add a golden tint to her rosy cheeks. “That is breathtaking.”
“Have you seen it?”
“I’m well-traveled.”
“What’s your favorite place?”
I sit next to her. “Right here.”
“Rainwater Bay?”
“Your living room.”
“Seriously?” Her gaze narrows. “I’m not falling for that.”
Slow and steady is the only way to win Zoe, so I scoot to the other end of the sofa and shuffle the deck of cards. “What should we play?”
“Texas Hold ‘em?”
“Are we gambling?”
“Only if you want to lose.” She takes the deck and shuffles the cards, dealing us each two. “I have M&M’s in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. We can use them as chips.”
“What’s the buy in?”
“No buy in, but if I win, we figure out a way to build thirty cabins.”
“If I win, you have to kiss me again.”
She inhales sharply but covers it with a cough. “I won’t lose.”
“We’ll see about that.” She steps back into the kitchen and grabs the M&M’s, dividing the bag equally between us.
Three hands in, she’s up by fifteen. “Are you sure you want to keep playing?” She wiggles her nose with the taunt.
“We’re just getting started sweetheart.”
She grimaces. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“You didn’t like Comet either. What endearments am I allowed?”
“None.”
“Nicknames are important in relationships.” I shuffle the deck and deal. I have a pair of twos. Heart, diamond.
“Five.” She places her bet.
“Call.” I add my M&M’s to the center of the table.
I flip the first three cards. Five and six of clubs, and an ace of hearts.
She adds another five M&M’s to the pile.
I call and flip the turn. A two of clubs. Three of a kind doesn’t look so bad. Zoe nibbles her bottom lip and adds ten M&M’s to the pile. Interesting.
I call again and flip the river. Ace of spades. Full house.
Another three M&M’s apiece make their way into the pot.
“Ladies first.”
She flips the three and four of clubs. “Straight flush.” She giggles as she sweeps the chocolate across the table.
We play for another forty-five minutes, taking turns winning and losing.
She nibbles her lip when she has a good hand and holds her breath when she’s bluffing.
She hasn’t been able to read any of my tells.
Maybe I should have told her Dad and I frequently spend a week in Montenegro gambling with some of the best poker players in the world. And beat them.
Nah. That would ruin the fun.
If Zoe knew, she wouldn’t have agreed to the stakes, but I can taste that kiss coming.
We are back to even chips. Mostly because she has been eating hers, she’s so confident in her win. She deals, and I start the hand with jack and queen of hearts. “Ten.” I slide my M&M’s into the middle of the table.
“Raise to fifteen.”
“Fifteen, it is.”
The flop and the turn go my way. Ten and king of hearts, three of spades, and queen of clubs.
“All in.” Zoe slides her M&M’s to the middle of the table, holding her breath.
“Call.” I bite the inside of my cheeks so I don’t lick my lips in anticipation.
The river is the queen of diamonds. Two queens. Not a great hand, but Zoe’s bluffing. The nervous energy pours off her.
I flip my cards one at a time. “Two queens.”
She sucks her lips between her teeth. “Nice hand.” She turns her cards one at a time. “But not good enough. Three kings.” The king of clubs and king of spades stare up at me.
“But you held your breath. You were bluffing.”
She taps the tips of her fingers together like an evil villain. “But was I?”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“If that’s all it takes, you should see me play go fish.”
“Thirty cabins it is.” I extend my hand and she takes it. “Good game.”
“It’s better this way—you’ll see.”
“You don’t believe that. The council is wrong about the extra cabins, but I promised, so we’ll figure something out.”
“Then why the bet?”
I tap my queens. “Didn’t expect to lose.”
“Landon, I…we can’t have a relationship. No one would approve. And you don’t live here.”
I rotate her hand and kiss the inside of her wrist. “I hope someday you see what I see when I look at you.”
“Stop feeding me pick up lines.” She yanks on her arm, but I hold it fast to my chest.
“I mean what I say.”