37. Zoe
THIRTY-SEVEN
zoe
I pulled my jacket tighter on the way to KC’s. It was getting colder, winter way too close for comfort. Fall was my favorite season, especially here in the Finger Lakes. Pretty much any lakeside winery afforded incredible views with the trees changing colors.
Or changed colors, actually. This time of year they were starting to look a little bare. Pretty soon, there’d be no leaves to speak of. I picked up the pace, only two blocks to go.
Waving at people I knew, my heart racing at the thought of finally seeing Nate, I tried for the millionth time to decipher his messages. Figure out what the surprise might be. Or why we were meeting at KC’s on a Friday night and not going out to dinner. Or better yet, staying in. I’d have thought he might want to see me privately after time apart, but the new me didn’t question it.
I actually laughed out loud at myself.
The new me. I could try like hell to “be like water and go with the flow,” but my overthinking brain just wouldn’t quit. Maybe instead of fighting it, I should just accept the fact and move on.
Reaching the bar, I opened the door and walked inside.
What the hell?
There were chamomile flowers everywhere. On each of the hightops. On the bar. It was like KC’s had exploded chamomiles. Which I appreciated, obviously, them being my favorite and all. But it was exceedingly odd.
Also odd, I spotted Charlee and Lucas at the bar. I thought they were having dinner with her parents tonight. Next to them sat Natalie and her boyfriend. They also had other plans and. . . what the hell was going on?
And where was Nate?
Slowly, I walked up to the bar toward an empty seat next to Charlee. I was about to ask her what was going on when I saw him. Behind the bar.
“I took the liberty of making you the very first Zoe Girl. Hendricks, a splash of St. Germaine, fresh lemon, topped with champagne.”
He put the delicious-looking and sounding drink on the bar in front of me.
“Nate?” I asked, spotting Owen. He was looking at me expectantly. They all were. “What’s going on?”
The flowers. My friends. Nate behind the bar.
And then it hit me. “You’re managing KC’s?”
Excitement bubbled inside me at the implications of such a move. He must have talked to Owen. Took the job.
“Something like that.”
He used to say that a lot when we texted. It was code for, “I can’t really say.” But if he truly was managing KC’s, why not just say yes?
“You’re not the new manager?”
“No.”
“Then. . .”
Natalie looked as if she were about to burst.
“I’m the owner.”
I met Nate’s eyes once again. Did he just say. . .
“The owner?”
“The owner.”
Wordlessly, Owen confirmed it, looking much the same as Natalie. As if they were all waiting for me to hear the news.
That news being. . . Nate. Owned. KC’s Taphouse.
“Are you kidding me?”
He came around the bar toward me, which was when I realized he wasn’t kidding. In front of everyone, he grabbed my cheeks the way I’d always imagined he would the first time we met in person—a fantasy I’d told him about.
Holding me in place, he kissed me.
Hard.
Picked me up off the stool. I wrapped my legs around his waist as the entire bar erupted in hoots and hollers. When Nate finally pulled his head back and looked into my eyes, I didn’t need any words.
His actions said it all.
The flowers, my favorite.
The signature drink, one I’d wished KC’s would serve.
Somehow, he’d pulled off one hell of a surprise. Purchasing KC’s? Had it even been for sale? Apparently, yes. And that meant he was moving here. Permanently. What else needed to be said?
“I love you, Zoe girl,” he whispered into my ear, carrying me away from the bar.
Putting me down at the door, Nate opened it as we stepped outside. I shivered, but not because of the cold.
“I love you too,” I said, the words rolling easily from my lips. I never meant anything more.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” He pinned me against the wall of the bar. With Nate’s hands on either side of my head, there was nowhere for me to go.
Not that I wanted to go anywhere anytime soon.
“I am too,” I admitted. “I’ve known for a long time.”
“Probably not longer than me. Zoe, I fell in love with you before we ever met in person. Do you realize that?”
“Same.”
He kissed me again, Nate’s mouth gliding over mine as if he knew me. Owned me. Which was totally fine. I was his, and he was mine.
“You seriously own KC’s?” I asked when he did pull away.
“I do.”
“Tell me,” I said, knowing we had to get back inside, but not willing to give up my alone time with him.
“I was hiking with my sister when it hit me. I’d been trying to decide if managing KC’s was something I wanted, but then I thought. . . why not go for broke? I honestly didn’t expect him to agree, but apparently, Owen was more than ready to get out completely. I was able to get an appointment with the bank the next morning. . . loan, approved. Owen’s lawyer worked quickly and”—he shrugged—“I signed the papers just a few hours ago.”
“You signed the papers,” I repeated. “As in, it’s actually already yours? Like, tonight?”
“Pretty much. The closing is next Friday, so it’ll really be official then. But the agreement is signed.”
“And the flowers?”
“I wanted to do something fun to tell you.”
“Well, you certainly accomplished that. I didn’t know what the heck was going on.”
“But you put it together pretty quickly.”
I laughed as Nate leaned into me. Never moving his hands from my sides, he began to kiss my neck.
“I did,” I murmured. “Um, Nate. Maybe we shouldn’t do this here in front of your bar.”
“I think it’s the perfect place to do this,” he said, his mouth moving upward.
“You are right,” I said, remembering his stunt under my desk. And my vow that two could play at his game. “Why not let me slide to my knees,” I said, reaching my hand in between us and cupping him. “Unzip those jeans, pull you free—”
“Zoe.” He stopped kissing my neck, looking both ways. No customers. Yet.
“And look up at you as your dick slides into my mouth. I take it, of course.” My fingers toyed with his button. “All the way, as deep as you can go.”
“Zoe,” he said, this time a bit more feverish than before.
I got the button free.
“Your hips thrust, fucking my mouth—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Zoe.” His hand stopped mine. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No.” I smiled. “Just returning the favor.”
He re-buttoned his jeans.
“Returning what. . . ahhh.” He chuckled. “The desk.”
“Precisely.”
“Mmm.” He stepped back. “As much as I would dearly love for you to take my dick deep into your mouth right here and right now, in front of this bar, I think it’s probably not the best idea.”
“No?”
“No.”
“When would it be a good idea?”
“How about tonight, when I take you home?”
“To my place?”
His smile faltered. Suddenly Nate was serious again. “Your place. Or our place. Up to you.”
Nate was serious. Could this night get any better?
“Is that a real choice?”
“Very real.”
“In that case”—I tossed my arms around his shoulders—“our place.”
He hugged me back, so tight I could barely breathe. Which was fine. I probably couldn’t breathe anyway with the excitement of all that was happening. This was how I’d imagined our first meeting.
There was no part of me that wanted to let go.
All those texts. Innuendos. Flirtations. Declarations.
The longing. Desire.
And eventually, love.
But now he was here in the flesh and blood to stay.
“I love you so much,” I said. “So very much.”
“And I love you, Zoe girl.”