Falling For Zoe (The Camerons of Tide's Way #1)

by Skye Taylor

  As he stood, his hands clutching the railing, fingernails digging into the old wood, he heard the door to Zoe’s house open. He jerked his head up and saw Zoe’s visitor shut the door behind him and cross the porch.

  He descended the stairs and strode toward his car with the air of a man who’d completed a successful mission. He slid into his car and shut the door. Then the engine purred to life. As Jake watched, the man ran a careful hand over his smartly styled hair and gazed at himself for a brief moment in the rearview mirror before he put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. As he drove past, Jake heard the faint sound of his radio, a smooth jazz number on a baritone sax.

  Jake disliked the man intensely. And he’d never even met him.

  ZOE BARELY HEARD the door shut or the car start. She vaguely noticed the deep growl of Porter’s engine being revved before he pulled away from the curb. Her emotions were in turmoil.

  If she had never met Jake, maybe the decision would be easier. In spite of not being in love with Porter, perhaps over time, they would find a way to create a comfortable partnership. And a stable, two-parent home for her baby would have been paramount. The fact that she’d allowed him to kiss her just now seemed to prove she wasn’t completely immune to his charm in spite of the hateful things that had been said months earlier.

  Zoe cupped her hands around her belly. Molly was proof that she wasn’t immune to Porter’s sex appeal either. But charm and sex appeal weren’t enough to base a marriage on.

  Porter had told her to consider Molly’s best interests, but not a single word had been said about what might be best for herself. There hadn’t been even a hint of love in Porter’s proposal. Not even for the child he suddenly professed to want. What if Porter turned out to be a cold, distant father who never demonstrated any feelings for his child? How would that benefit Molly?

  Every day women brought children into the world without the aid of a spouse and reared them from infancy to college without the input of a father. Zoe had a home and a job. She was financially able to support herself and her baby, maybe not in luxury, but comfortably. She was smart and capable, and she knew she would be a good mother. A great mother. Even without a husband. But still . . .

  There was Porter’s six-figure income to consider. And the likelihood of a partnership in the near future and the prestige and security that would bring. He had a large beautiful home in the most elegant part of historic downtown Wilmington. Molly would have every advantage and be able to attend any college she desired. Porter might never look at Zoe with the love in his eyes that Bree’s husband had once had for Bree before the war had robbed them of the life they’d planned together, but Porter would never abuse her or their child. Life would be comfortable. Their future would be reliable.

  Zoe gazed around the tumbled disarray of her living room—the haven she had created for herself and her child. It wasn’t elegant or expensive like Porter’s home, but it was comfortable and more than adequate. The things that had needed repair had been fixed or replaced. Zoe’s father would never let Molly miss out on college, illegitimate or not. Did they really need what Porter was offering?

  A week ago, this decision would have been so much easier. A week ago, Jake had still been popping in and out, fixing things, checking on her, sharing tidbits of his life with her. A week ago, she’d still been blindly in love. Still hoping for so much more. But that dream had withered in the face of Jake’s harsh honesty. There would never be a future with Jake. Her choices were going it alone, or accepting Porter’s loveless offer.

  Zoe got off the couch and began to gather up the discarded gift boxes. She felt almost numb. It was all too much to process right now—too much, she suspected, to process in twenty-four hours. She had no idea what she would tell Porter when he called the following day. The only thing she was certain of right now was that she wouldn’t tell him flat-out no.

  Zoe stacked the flattened boxes in a pile and carried them to the kitchen. She heard Jet scratching softly at the door. She’d forgotten all about the dogs. She let them in, apologizing with effusive hugs, and let their tail-wagging acceptance wash through her. When the eager dancing had calmed down, she fixed their dinner and put the bowls down.

  At least I know my pooches love me just for being me, she thought as she returned to the living room with a trash bag and began filling it with crumpled paper, bits of ribbon, and big pink bows. After carting all the boxes and the trash bag out to the back porch, she snagged the laundry basket off the washer and returned to the living room. She carefully removed the tags and dropped each miniature garment into the basket, then carried the basket to the kitchen and loaded the washer with baby clothes and baby detergent.

  When the living room was tidy again, Zoe began to turn out the lights. The ring box still sat where Porter had left it. The diamond solitaire winked up at her in the light from the table lamp. Zoe snapped the box shut and shoved it into her pocket. She turned off the lamp and headed for the door.

  In the hall she paused, took the box from her pocket, and opened it up again. She swallowed hard, struck anew by its beauty and the unexpected offer it represented. Then she headed for the kitchen where she carefully placed the box on the windowsill above the sink, the lid still open. A reminder that she had a decision to make.

  Chapter 26

  JAKE LAY ON HIS bed with his hands folded behind his head staring into the dark when the phone rang. Realizing he’d left his pager in the kitchen, he grabbed the handset and brought it to his ear, expecting to hear the volunteer fire dispatcher.

  “Cameron here!”

  “Jake?” Zoe’s voice was clipped and totally without the warmth it used to hold whenever she’d said his name before.

  “This is Jake. What’s up?” He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up.

  “Celia’s here again. She’s folding clothes, and she says she can’t leave until she’s finished.”

  Jake jammed his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Sorry about this. I’ll be right over.”

  He punched the off button and tossed the phone on the bed, then scrambled back into the shorts he’d dropped on the floor a couple hours earlier. He couldn’t find his T-shirt, then remembered he’d chosen to put on a dress shirt after his shower. He hated ironing, and he’d taken the time to hang it up again in spite of his anguish over Zoe and her detested visitor. He dug a T-shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on as he hurried down the hall.

  Zoe’s porch light wasn’t on, but the door was unlocked. He should talk to her about leaving her doors unlocked. Maybe she’d been too distracted to lock it behind her visitor when she’d followed him to the door. Maybe the man had let himself out, and Zoe had forgotten to check it later. A pang of loss shot through Jake, but he shoved it aside and called out.

  “Zoe?”

  Scotch hurried forward, barked twice, then began to wag his tail. Jet appeared and shoved her head under Jake’s hand for a pat.

  “We’re in the kitchen.”

  Jake strode into the kitchen and found Zoe seated in a chair in the corner by the dryer with a laundry basket between her feet. Celia, standing on the other side of the open dryer door, looked up at Jake’s entrance with surprise. Then pleasure flooded her face.

  “Martin! I didn’t know you were home.” She hurried to Jake and gave him an uncomfortably effusive hug.

  Jake glanced at Zoe in apology, then back down at his mother-in-law. “What are you doing here, Mom?”

  “I’m folding the baby’s clothes. Look, isn’t this just the most darling dress?” She held up an impossibly small garment made of soft white material with pink roses and tiny pink bows. “Donna is going to look so pretty in this. Don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure she will, but you really don’t need to finish folding the clothes tonight.” He tried to remove the dress from Celia’s hand, but she whisked it ou
t of reach and returned to her post by the dryer.

  “Of course, I must. You know I can’t go to bed before all my chores are done.” She placed the folded dress in the basket by Zoe’s feet and picked up a one-piece sleeper. “It will only take a few minutes, but if you want to help, you know many hands make light work.” She gestured toward the half-full dryer of baby clothes.

  “It’s okay, Jake. I really don’t mind if she helps fold them. And it might be easier if we—if you just let her finish. You don’t need to help, though.” Zoe set a stack of pink and yellow onesies in the basket and reached back into the dryer. “Just pull up a stool. We’ll be done before you know it.”

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Jake apologized again. “I’m sorry about everything. I wish I could . . .” Could what? Take it all back? Take back the unforgiveable words he’d said to her the last time they had been together?

  “This isn’t your fault, Jake.” Zoe’s voice had finally found some of the warmth he’d gotten used to, but she was talking about Celia, and he knew it.

  He approached the dryer and had to reach past Zoe to grab a handful of baby clothes. He wanted to fall on his knees at her feet and beg her to forgive him. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her he’d been dead wrong. But he could do neither with Celia blithely folding baby garments just two feet away, so he carried his share of the clothing back to the island and began folding. “I hope Celia didn’t wake you up this time.”

  “No, not really. I was upstairs, but I got hungry and realized I’d forgotten to have any supper. So, I came down to scrounge for some leftovers and found Celia finishing the chore I’d begun before I headed off to bed.”

  “Looks like Bree pulled off a very successful shower. You made quite a haul.” Jake had forgotten how small newborn clothes were. “Tiny, aren’t they?” He held up an undershirt that didn’t look big enough for one of the twins’ dolls.

  Zoe had been thinking the same thing as she’d unwrapped her gifts that afternoon. But the bit of white jersey looked even tinier in Jake’s big, sun-browned hands. Her own fingers went still as she watched, fascinated by the deftness of those large hands as he neatly tucked the sleeves under, then folded the undershirt in half and added it to the growing pile on the island counter. He picked up a frilly top next and smoothed the ruffles down, found the matching bottoms, and smoothed them out as well. It was clear Jake had folded little girl clothing before. That he was very familiar with the task, in fact.

  Try as she might, Zoe couldn’t conjure up an image of Porter ever taking on such a chore. A pang of longing shot through her so sharp and overwhelming it felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment. When she could, she scrambled to think of something to say. Anything to distract herself from the difficult choice she had to make.

  “H-how are the twins? I haven’t seen them all week.” Perhaps Jake had told them to stay away.

  “They were at my sister’s place for a few days. Her girls are four and six. She had the week off from work, and she figured why not. Jenny and Becca are like oil and water, and the twins keep them from fighting all the time, which makes Kate’s life easier.”

  “It seems odd that I’ve never met your sister’s kids or her husband, for that matter. Come to think of it, I thought most of your family lived around here. How come I’ve never run into any of them besides Kate and Aunt Catherine?”

  Jake made a wry face. “I don’t know. Everyone’s been unusually busy lately. We usually see each other more often than we have so far this summer. Everyone managed to get over for the Fourth of July, and Philip’s been by a bunch of times since he got back to the States in June.”

  Zoe had been at her brother Michael’s house for her sister’s engagement party over the fourth. If Zoe had been free, maybe she’d have been invited to Jake’s place and gotten to meet the rest of his family instead of spending the day envying her sister Erin and the man she’d brought home to introduce to her family. Ken hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Erin or the smile off his face, and he’d fit right into the boisterous Callahan clan. Jake would have fit right in too, except . . .

  Jake reached into the dryer for the last of the baby things.

  The clean, fresh hint of whatever shampoo he used and his own musky, masculine scent filled her nostrils. Her body reacted with its customary jolt of pleasure. Zoe shot out of her chair and retreated to the sink, filled a glass with water, and drank it down as she strove to regain her composure. I’ve got to get over him, she admonished herself sternly.

  “How many Camerons are there?” she babbled, trying to ignore the aching sense of loss.

  Jake stopped folding a bath towel with a princess crown on one corner and looked over his shoulder at Zoe. “There’s quite a crowd when we’re all together.” He held up one hand and folded down a finger. “There’s Kate. Her husband Ethan and their girls.” He folded down three more fingers. “My brother Ben, his wife Meg when she’s home. She’s in Iraq just now. She’s a Marine MP. Anyway, they have two boys, Rick and Evan.” He started to tuck the towel under his arm and put his other hand up and then shrugged. “Not enough fingers. Philip and Will aren’t married yet. And of course, my mom and dad and Aunt Catherine. That’s the usual crowd anyway. Sometimes one or another of my aunts or uncles and their families will show up, too, but when that happens, we’re usually all out on the island at my parents’ place.”

  “Sounds a little like my family.”

  The corner of Jake’s mouth tucked in, and he made a soft little sound in his throat before he resumed folding the towel. “If you mean overwhelming, then, yeah!”

  “Martin?” Celia’s soft voice dragged Zoe’s attention back the problem that had brought Jake over to her house in the first place. Celia moved toward the island and added a handful of socks to Jake’s neat piles of baby clothes. She put a hand on Jake’s wrist and gazed up at him with a look of yearning that almost made Zoe feel like a peeping Tom.

  “Martin?” Celia said again. “When are you bringing your wife and the baby home from the hospital?”

  “I’m Jake, Mom.” Jake took her hand off his arm and held it in both of his own. “Marsha’s husband. Remember?”

  Celia looked totally confused. “Who’s Marsha?”

  “Never mind, Mom. Your chores are done. It’s time to get you home to bed.” He urged her toward the hallway. He looked back at Zoe with a pained expression in his eyes. “She’s moving into Safe Haven on Wednesday. I wish I could promise you won’t find her poking about your house again, but it seems to be happening with more frequency, and Wednesday is still three days away.”

  “Can I help?” Zoe didn’t know why she volunteered. Except that the look of unhappiness in Jake’s eyes was more than she could bear. She wanted to gather him into her arms and tell him it would all work out, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. But she could help get Celia settled into her new surroundings. “I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday, but not until afternoon, and since my boss gave me the whole day off I’m free until two-ish.”

  “You shouldn’t be moving furniture and heavy stuff. Not seven and a half months pregnant.” Jake glanced at Zoe’s belly, which she noticed was half-naked now that she’d gotten to her feet.

  Embarrassed, Zoe tugged her pajama top down. “But I can make up her bed and help her unpack.” I can help make sure you don’t fall apart at the seams. I hope we’re still friends, at least, and that’s the least a friend would do.

  “I—I can’t ask you to—”

  “You didn’t ask. I offered. Besides, you know you want to borrow my truck. It’ll be a lot easier than the van. Right?” Zoe stood in the open doorway while Jake guided Celia toward the stairs.

  “I was going to ask my dad if I could borrow his, but that’s way out on the island, so if you really don’t mind, I’d be grateful for the loan. There’s no reason you ha
ve to go, though. I know how to drive a stick.”

  “And I know where things are over at Safe Haven, so stop arguing.” Zoe had no idea why she was pushing so hard to tag along on what would certainly be an emotionally difficult move for Jake. It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough baggage of her own to deal with right now. Or maybe she was trying to avoid her own baggage.

  “Thanks,” Jake surrendered graciously. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to get her stuff moved.”

  Celia started down the stairs, but Jake hesitated at the top, his hand on the railing, his expression uncertain. A shock of sun-streaked hair had fallen across his forehead. He looked about fifteen years younger. Lost and unhappy. And never more appealing.

  “See you Wednesday.” Zoe stepped back, ready to shut the door before she lost the battle not to smooth Jake’s hair off his face and kiss away his unhappiness.

  “Wednesday, then.” Jake reached toward her, but then dropped his hand to his side. “Don’t forget to lock your door. Next intruder might be more to worry about than Celia and her friend Martin.” Then he turned and loped down the stairs to catch up with Celia.

  Zoe shut the door and carefully turned the deadbolt before collapsing against the old oak panel.

  How can I possibly marry Porter while I’m still in love with Jake?

  Chapter 27

  CELIA PUTTERED about her new room at the Safe Haven Assisted Living Facility looking confused and lost. Jake had already set up the bed, and Zoe was making it up with Celia’s familiar bedding when Jake and the handyman from the center brought the matching dresser in.

  “Martin?” Celia tapped Jake’s arm. “Why am I here?”