by Anne Ashby
Only after she’d sank down onto the side of the bath did she realize she should have come up with a better excuse. She could have gone for a ride, a run, taken off to visit a friend, anything would have been more sensible than this. She cursed not having her cellphone. She could at least have texted a friend to come and pick her up. Get her away for the evening.
Heaving a huge sigh of annoyance, she dug under the sink and grabbed the cleaning gear. She might as well be doing something productive while she was here.
Sometime later she rushed to put her ear against the door. That was his pager. Sure enough, after a short phone call his car had taken off with a squeal of rubber. With a puff of relief, Zoe eased open the door of the spotless bathroom and, after making doubly sure his car was gone, she wandered into the kitchen.
Squinting into the fridge Zoe shook her head. She wasn’t really hungry. She slammed the door shut, dislodging a couple of Bess’s magnets in the process. Damn Connor Matthews. She looked wildly around the room. Why let him upset me? I don’t give a damn what he thinks of me.
Strong, sharp pain kicked at her stomach.
Zoe’s shaky legs collapsed and she slumped onto a chair. What’s the matter with me? I don’t care. I don’t. All afternoon she’d been wishing she’d clocked him on the jaw. Blinking furiously she stared up at the ceiling.
She did care what he thought of her. So much. Only because he was the first relative—a test for her, she convinced herself—after Bess. If she couldn’t forge some bond with him, what chance did she have with her uncles and other cousins?
They were family, real family, the same blood. Would they accept her as being part of them? Her head slumped down onto the table, visualizing their actions would be like Connor’s, full of disdain and suspicion.
How long she slept there she didn’t know. Amidst her jumbled dreams of rejection and dismissal, she clung to the glorious certainty, no matter what happened now, someday she’d have her very own family, her own children to love and protect. That joy stayed with her as she opened her eyes and rubbed the kink in her neck as she sat up.
She stretched, grimaced. Her disturbed nights and long busy days were catching up with her. Watching her bank balance shooting up was worth it though. She’d take as many extra night shifts as she could get with John—a quadriplegic who needed twenty-four hour on-call attention—until she started uni again.
Except for those few days in Wellington, she had nothing planned for the next couple of months except work. Lots of hard work. She’d work so hard she wouldn’t have time to think about Connor Matthews.
****
Connor did a double take at the light on in Zoe’s room as he turned into the driveway. He glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard. It was almost four o’clock in the morning. A feeling of self-disgust washed over him. Am I the cause of her sleeplessness? Thumping the steering wheel he swore, then swore again.
Slumping back and closing his eyes, guilt over the incident with Zoe adding to his feeling of inadequacy, Connor tried to think of something pleasant, anything that might take away the pictures embedded in his head. Forgetting the last few hours wouldn’t be easy.
A picture of the little scrap of humanity he’d tried so desperately to save flashed in front on his eyes. The apparent innocence of the mother, barely more than a child herself, as, despite the evidence, she’d sworn nobody had hurt her baby.
His fists tightened around the steering wheel as fierce anger burned inside. Thank heavens the nurse manager had bundled him out the door and told him to go home before he’d had a chance to make a fool of himself.
Forcing himself from the car, Connor quietly entered the house, and without conscious thought found himself standing outside Zoe’s door.
“Zoe?” His voice sounded flat as he tapped on her door. He didn’t know what he could say, but he needed to absolve himself from at least one incident.
The door jerked open, and she stood with one hand on the door and the other firmly resting on her hip. For a split second he appreciated how her stance stretched the top of her cotton nightie tightly across her breasts, outlining her nipples quite clearly.
“Yes?” she snapped.
Connor shook his head to clear the image of those breasts without the top. That’s what caused this problem in the first place, my furtive imagination.
He stared mutely at her, watching her eyes lose the chipped icy coldness. The expression on her face slowly changed to something less confrontational. What do I look like? Do I look as awful as I feel? He scrubbed a hand across his face.
“I’m sorry.” He continued looking deeply into her eyes, words he’d rehearsed earlier now gone from his mind. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled again and turned away.
The soft touch of her fingers on his arm stopped him dead.
“Connor? What’s happened? Are you all right?”
He heaved a huge sigh, tried to shrug, tried to smile, but all he could do was stare into those big blue eyes. They seemed so familiar, so caring, so wise…
“Would you like a hot drink?”
Before he could answer she’d grabbed a bathrobe from behind her door. “Come on, I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”
He followed her into the kitchen like a docile lamb, slumping into the seat she pulled out from the kitchen table. She never spoke as she heated milk and prepared two mugs of steaming chocolate she soon brought to the table. Sitting down opposite him, she wrapped her hands around her mug, watching him, but not saying a word.
Connor welcomed the heat as his fingers encircled his mug. He shivered, despite the balmy warmth of the room. His gaze roamed before returning to Zoe’s face. All signs of her anger were gone. She couldn’t have forgiven his behavior so readily, and yet her expression was filled with compassion and concern.
“I lost a little boy.” The words were dragged out. “Three months old.” He ignored the heat burning his mouth as he gulped a mouthful. “We worked on him for hours. But…”
Apart from a saddened gasp Zoe made no response. She sat, silently listening, as he relived the whole ordeal.
Taken aback to hear the clock chime five, Connor struggled to his feet. “Oh God, I’ve kept you up. You―”
“Don’t worry about it; I wasn’t intending to sleep any longer. I’ll head off to work a little earlier this morning. We’ve got a big job on and I’ll be able to get in a few extra hours.” Her wink as she reached for his empty mug lightened the atmosphere a little. “Impress the boss.”
“Zoe?” He touched her arm as she slipped toward the door. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I guess I needed to vent some of that anger.”
She threw him a gamin grin. “That’s cool. See you tonight.”
“Zoe.” He sprang up and clasped her arm but hastily let go as her gaze fell to his hand. “About this afternoon…”
The grin disappeared from her face.
“I am truly sorry for the way I behaved. I had no right to bully…force myself…”
He groaned as he remembered someone else, someone he hated so intensely. “I’m no better…using superior strength to intimidate…”
“Don’t be so crazy,” Zoe snapped. “You’d have to try a lot harder to intimidate me, pal.”
With a quirky twitch of her eyebrows, she was gone, leaving Connor staring into the empty hallway, shaking off the images of his father. He tried to assimilate the compassionate companion of the last hour with his negativity of this afternoon.
Falling into bed moments later he concluded there must be a rational explanation for Zoe’s behavior. Unfortunately he didn’t have the right to demand to know what it was. But once again he wondered if his grandmother was right about Zoe. Despite her meetings with this Rangi fellow, Connor still couldn’t prove one disparaging thing about her.
Can she be as genuine as she appears to be? Or is she just that clever at disguising her motives?
Chapter Eight
“Gran’s home in a couple o
f days.” Connor’s voice emanated from inside the fridge as he was digging out the makings for a salad.
“Yeah, I know. The fortnight’s flown by. Who’s going to restock the kitchen, you or me?” Zoe smiled as she sliced some cold meat onto a plate, marveling how well they’d got on over the last few days.
Avoiding contentious topics had allowed them to spend some conflict-free enjoyable hours together. Although they were both working long hours, their down-time had coincided this week. It was fun sharing the common everyday things with someone.
Be careful, she had to keep warning herself. She could get used to having someone special in her life. But that someone couldn’t be, mustn’t be Connor.
Despite her often outrageous attempts to tease Connor, he was still serious, and a little distant. Sometimes she’d catch him watching her, and she guessed he still didn’t completely trust her, but that was okay. At least he wasn’t being an absolute prig anymore.
If they could get along side by side for just a few more days, Christmas would reveal everything, and he’d understand why Bess meant so much to her. If he still doubted her honesty after that, well that would be his problem. There wasn’t much she could do about it.
“You can. Shopping must be more your forte than mine.” His smile softened the sometimes harsh features of his face. “You’re a woman.”
Zoe covered the sudden pounding of her heart by laughing. “I knew you were a latent chauvinist. You’ve got a car, you do the shopping.”
“You could take Gran’s car. You’ve done it before.”
Zoe’s hands stilled. His voice had changed, hardened. She glanced across to see him studying her. Unnerved, her gaze slid away from the watchfulness on his face. Concentrating fiercely, she completed carving the meat, keeping her head down.
His voice was deceptively calm and quiet when he suddenly asked, “Who is Rangi, Zoe?” Her furtive glance showed a muscle flickering along his jaw. “What are you doing hanging around with someone like that? If he has some hold on you…”
“He hasn’t,” she snapped, before taking a deep breath and adding more gently. “He’s a friend.”
Connor was showing concern she told herself as her defenses started building. He wasn’t casting aspersions… Well, maybe a little. Her lips twisted in a faint little smile. Rangi would love to be part of this conversation. He’d be laughing his socks off.
“I saw you giving him money, don’t forget.” His mouth twisted. “He must have—”
“He’s a friend. He lent me some money a while ago. I was just paying him back. That’s all.” She shrugged, hoping her casual reply would close the subject.
“He lent you money?” Connor’s raised brows reinforced his incredulous tone. “It looked like a fair amount.” His skeptical voice grated. “Where would someone like him get that sort of money?”
Zoe’s back stiffened at his inference. Counting slowly to ten she refused to dive into an argument. “Just leave it, Connor. There’s no reason for you to know anything about Rangi.”
“I can’t believe you’d befriend someone like that. He looked like some—”
“I’m not talking about him, Connor. Please mind your own business.”
“It’s my business if you’re using Gran to get money for degenerates like him.”
“Ohh. You still think I’d…” She glared at him, her temperature rising. “Sometimes you make me so mad.” She slapped down plates on the table and stormed into her bedroom, returning moments later to throw a piece of paper in his face. “That’s where the money came from, okay?”
Connor’s face heated as he picked up the small yellow piece of paper. It was a lotto payout slip. Two weeks ago she’d won twelve hundred dollars.
“He helped me with my uni fees. I still owe him two hundred and fifty dollars. I’ll be paying that to him on Thursday, if you’d like to follow me then, too.”
Her stomach tightened with the disappointment. So much for not caring about his suspicions. She cared too much. Zoe looked through blurry eyes at what had had the makings of a tempting, nutritious meal. “You know, suddenly I’m not hungry.”
She slammed out the back door, before he could witness her hurt, and took off up the street. Stirring up anger to replace the empty hopelessness inside, she hoped a long, brisk walk would curb her annoyance. And kill the sudden horrible pain in her stomach.
Just when she was deciding he wasn’t such a bad egg after all, he had to revert to his role of defender of the universe. It hacked her off.
What else can I do to make him accept me? She’d tried being friendly, he took umbrage to that. She’d tried keeping out of his way, he assumed she was up to no good. Oh, what the hell, she took a swipe at a stone on the footpath, I’m fed up with walking on eggshells around him.
The worst thing was they’d been getting on okay. She’d enjoyed his company. For such a serious bloke he could spin a great yarn. Zoe had been captivated by the stories he shared with her. The fascinating and exciting things he’d done made her life seem such a ho-hum existence she wondered why she’d been so proud of all she’d achieved. Hell, I’ve never been anywhere or done anything outside Auckland.
Without meaning to, he’d made her life feel narrow and insular. Hearing his stories was giving her different dreams. Now buying into the workshop and having her own child to hold didn’t seem enough. She wanted more—wild, exciting dreams of traveling, seeing the world.
Turning toward home once her temper cooled, Zoe accepted Connor’s heart was in the right place. He wasn’t an obnoxious person; she just managed to rub him the wrong way. It’d be nice some day to have someone look after her interests as closely as he was trying to guard Bess’s.
Connor appeared in the kitchen when she was barely through the back door. “I always seem to be apologizing to you. You’re right. Your friends are not my business.”
Zoe kept her head averted, nodding acceptance but afraid of what her eyes might reveal.
“My concern for my grandmother…” His vexation was evident in the stiffness of his voice. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It won’t happen again.”
She couldn’t resist a sidelong glance of utter disbelief. Their eyes met and, after a long moment, she detected the beginning of a smile tipping the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll attempt to ensure it doesn’t happen again,” he reiterated.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, right.”
“Friends?”
Zoe’s gaze fell to the hand he held out. Her throat tightened. “That’s what I’d like, Connor. Friendship.”
She took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake.
Connor gallantly offered to drive Zoe to the supermarket after he’d placed a plate of cold meat and salad in front of her. Thankfully he disappeared while she wolfed down the food, her previous tension having vanished along with her lack of appetite.
Grocery shopping with Connor was an experience Zoe would never forget. He ignored the list they’d compiled at home, and randomly threw all manner of things into the trolley, many of which she took straight back out again. It became a hilarious game of one-upmanship Zoe was afraid she might be losing.
Noticing the indulgent look an older couple threw them as they maneuvered their own trolley through the deli department, a warm glow flowed through Zoe.
Supermarkets had always been a necessary evil, not a place of amusement or pleasure. Watching Connor approach with a wide grin, and yet another armful of unnecessary items, Zoe’s smile matched his. This warm feeling of contentment was new to her.
It wasn’t until much later, she began to analyze her feelings. She enjoyed Connor’s company, enjoyed the cut-and-thrust of the fast-paced repartee they indulged in. That was all.
It was pleasant being on those terms with him, not having to check what she said. There wasn’t anything else, anything wrong with the feelings she had.
In the dead of night, alone in her room, she had convinced herself Connor had no hold over
her. She liked him and enjoyed his company when he wasn’t being a dork. There was nothing wrong with liking your cousin. In fact, there’d probably be something wrong if she didn’t like him.
In the light of day Zoe wasn’t so sure. She gritted her teeth as Connor wandered into the garden now, the mere sight of him causing her breath to catch in her throat. Only because of those thoughts from last night, she hastily told herself.
Keeping her head down as she worked the soil, she felt his attention and somehow knew what they were doing. He was looking at her, not just as Zoe, but as a woman.
Warmth, as if he was touching her, followed his look. His gaze dropped from her shoulders, where shoelace straps advertised she wore no bra, to her back, then onto her bare legs in her skimpy shorts.
Why didn’t I think about my clothing this morning? It wasn’t any different to what she normally wore, but somehow, after last night, it seemed inappropriate.
For God’s sake, I’m not trying to attract him. Heat rushed into her face. What if that’s what he thinks? What if he comes onto me?
She groaned under her breath. Why, oh why, didn’t I let Gran introduce me to the family straight away, that first day when I met her? All this heartache would have been avoided.
“Anything I can help you with?”
Zoe looked up in surprise. His tone was casual enough. She must have imagined his intimate scrutiny. She sagged with relief.
“What are you doing? I’ll help you.”
Wanting to decline, and have the solitude of the garden to herself, Zoe shrugged. If he wanted to potter around in the garden she could hardly stop him.
“I’ll just get some gloves from the shed.”
Zoe pulled a face as he hurried away. She loved to feel the earth slipping through her fingers, the smell of the dirt. Working with gloves just didn’t give you the same connection with nature. She kept her head tucked down as he returned, his hands neatly gloved.
Maybe a lot of men wore gloves in the garden, she didn’t know, but working outside on a lovely summer’s day with almost every inch of his body covered seemed a bit obsessive to her. For the umpteenth time she reminded herself he was a doctor, perhaps with an over-sensitive fixation for cleanliness.
