by Toni Blake
He met her gaze, appearing pleasantly intoxicated and maybe a little philosophical. “But it could be a hell of a lot better.” And he was so not an old man in a nursing home. He was a strong man, with taut muscles and a broad chest—the messy waves in his hair and thick stubble on his chin making him all the more sexy right now.
Because you’re drunk. And alcohol has a way of turning a person amorous. Knowing that should make it easier to ignore. But it didn’t.
Still, she tried to concentrate on the conversation as they took slow, lumbering steps toward the sofa bed. “You’re right,” she said. “It probably isn’t fair of me to shove that idea down your throat right now. Whatever you’re feeling is valid. And you’re doing as well as anyone could be expected to. Which I respect, by the way.”
He glanced over at her again as they reached the bedside. “Thanks, Miss Q.”
And the shortening of the silly nickname might have made her laugh—except that he kept looking at her, looking right into her eyes, their faces so close that her heart beat like a drum.
“And you’re right, too,” he murmured softly. “It could be worse. I could be alone right now. But I’m not.”
Then his eyes fell half-shut and his gaze dropped to her mouth, her every nerve ending crackling with electricity as she realized he was leaning in to kiss her.
CHAPTER TEN
WORKING ON GUT INSTINCT, Suzanne pushed Zack lightly onto the bed and stepped back. She had no idea where this kissing notion had come from, but it couldn’t happen.
She found him wearing an amused expression as he situated himself up against some pillows. “You dropped me, Suzie Q.”
“A hazard of drinking with your nurse,” she claimed. Though that near kiss had sobered her up—fast.
Her patient peered speculatively up at her. “Wanna have another drink? You could sit and talk to me some more.” He patted the bed next to him.
Oh Lord. He was trying to make this happen even now that they weren’t pressed up against each other. And likely angling for more than just kissing. She found herself staring at the spot he’d just patted as heat suffused her cheeks.
“We should both turn in. Goodnight, Zack,” she said, then rushed to flip off the lights and head to her bedroom.
She’d clean up the empty wineglasses and popcorn bowl tomorrow, when this would be in the past, like a bad dream. He wouldn’t remember—surely he wouldn’t remember. They’d never even have to acknowledge it. And things could get back to normal around here. Well, whatever normal was. But normal certainly wasn’t kissing and inviting her into his bed.
Of course I’ll remember it. And she had a feeling all those tingling spots in her body were going to remember it, too. Was it really like a bad dream? After all, was it so awful for a man she suddenly found attractive to want to kiss her?
Well, in this case, yes—it was. Because the man was drunk. And the man was someone it would be crazy to start kissing.
* * *
ZACK’S HEAD SPUN, even lying on a pile of pillows. Had he actually just made a pass at Suzanne? Huh. Too much wine, not enough popcorn.
Truth was, he liked her a lot more than he’d thought. Now he understood why Dahlia and Meg were friends with her—she was a good person who was...well, being a lot better to him than Dahlia and Meg were right now. Funny how things worked out sometimes.
Maybe that vision of her ass swaying to the music had stayed with him. And she was prettier than he’d ever realized. And sorta cute when she got nervous. He liked nervous Suzanne better than the self-righteous, judgmental Suzanne she’d always been with him before the last two weeks. And hell...he’d wanted to do a lot more than talk when he’d patted the sheet beside him. He was sorry she’d gone rushing off.
For more reasons than one, actually. She’d dropped him on the damn mattress so fast he hadn’t got to go to the bathroom before getting in bed. And no way he could go by himself in his current condition. He considered calling her—but thought better of it. She’d seemed pretty eager to get away from him, after all. Easier to just hold it ’til morning.
Maybe she just wasn’t into him that way. Because of his bum leg. Or because she’d thought he’d treated Meg badly. Or...hell, there could be a million reasons, and it didn’t really matter. It had just been...an impulse.
And besides...damn, with his leg paralyzed could he even...?
The question dropped onto him like an anchor. Shit, maybe it was best she’d turned him down. Maybe she’d even already thought of that. He couldn’t imagine a worse humiliation than both of them being ready to go, and then discovering he couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain.
And yet...her ass in those jeans still swayed in his mind. And when she’d been up against him a few minutes ago, her breast had pressed into his side, full and firm and...
Aw. Oh yeah. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
He had a semi-erection. Best semi-erection of his life. Even if now he had to fall asleep with that distraction, too.
So I can still be with a woman. Not that he knew what good it would do him, all things considered. How different and strange and awkward would sex be when he couldn’t maneuver his body normally? What woman would want to have sex with him like this?
But he wasn’t gonna worry about shit like that right now.
He pushed the ugly questions aside, letting himself remember Suzanne dancing around the kitchen. And he drifted into sleep feeling a little more like a man.
* * *
IT WAS ALMOST a weird relief when Suzanne woke the next day to hear Zack grumbling and grumpy. “Woman, do you know the last time I went to the bathroom? I’ve had to go all damn night.” Grumpy Zack she was used to. Flirty, sexy Zack was new and intimidating.
So even as he groused, she just smiled, even laughed. “Hold your horses, grumphead. I’m coming.”
And now that he was sober, he was able to take himself to the bathroom—but she was glad he’d waited until she got up so she could be nearby if he lost his balance.
Once he was behind the closed bathroom door, she called, “You’re doing really well on the crutches. Way better than I would have predicted a week ago.”
“Think it’s the exercises?” he asked through the door.
“I think it’s great you have a lot of upper body strength and good we’re keeping it that way. And keeping all your muscles toned and active can only help.” As the door opened and he came out, she added, “We’ll add more crutch work to our routine. The better you can get around, the happier you’ll be.”
“You got that right,” he said, lowering himself into a chair at the dining table.
His aptitude on the crutches truly impressed her, and she was glad to have turned their conversation to something positive. Another positive? He didn’t seem to remember the awkwardness between them last night, or if he did, he wasn’t letting it show. Which suited her just fine.
As she moved around the kitchen, letting the skillet heat as she gathered eggs and other ingredients for omelets, he asked, “You like the quiet, don’t you?”
She looked over at him. “I guess I do, now that you mention it.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I like quiet sometimes, too. Out on my fishing boat there’s nothing but quiet and I don’t mind it. But...you care if I play a little music?”
Suzanne didn’t particularly enjoy music first thing in the morning, but if it would keep him contented... “Go for it.”
She wasn’t surprised when, a moment later, his phone played a clever rock song about signs that sounded straight out of the hippie era. But it had a good beat. “Who is this?” she asked as she broke an egg into the frying pan.
“A one-hit wonder called Five Man Electrical Band.”
“That’s a horrible name.” She broke another egg.
“Yeah. Great song, though.”
“When w
as it out—1852?”
Despite herself, she liked that it made him laugh before he replied, “More like early seventies.”
“Same difference,” she quipped, and he chuckled again.
Then said, “You like it, though.”
She stopped breaking eggs and just looked over at him. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re dancing a little.”
Oh. She was. She hadn’t realized. “Hmm. Guess I am.”
Why did he look so amused by that? She had no idea, and finally just rolled her eyes and got back to making breakfast.
* * *
Do you want to come over this afternoon? Sit by the fire and catch up? Drink some hot chocolate?
Suzanne looked at the text on her phone from Meg. She hadn’t heard from her BFF in a while. Though she’d barely noticed, too wrapped up in all the goings-on in her cottage. Zack was a full-time job.
Part of her wanted to be a little standoffish—Meg had promised Dahlia she’d help with Zack, but they hadn’t talked since the day he woke up paralyzed. On the other hand, though, Meg was reaching out to her now, and she loved her friend, so she texted back: Yes, yes, and yes! What time?
After lunch and afternoon exercises, she bundled up and headed down Harbor Street toward the Summerbrook Inn. A light snow fell, but the walk reminded her how beautiful Summer Island could be in winter. Even a glance at ice-laden Lake Michigan, the very body of water keeping Dahlia away and Zack from better medical treatment, didn’t bring her down. She climbed the front walk to the inn, eager to see her friend.
As soon as Meg opened the door, Suzanne said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Meg replied, “and I’m sorry I haven’t called.” She stopped, bit her lip, looked uncertain. “I just felt...weird about it all.”
“It’s okay, and it doesn’t have to be weird,” Suzanne assured her, then gave her a hug.
As she stepped inside, Meg appeared relieved.
And Suzanne was, too—even more now. “Where’s Seth?” she asked, hanging her parka in the foyer. Usually Meg’s boyfriend greeted Suzanne when she visited, even if just with a hello from another part of the house.
“He’s actually snowshoeing around the island to check on Walt Gardner.” When Seth had first arrived here, he’d rented a cabin from the old man who lived on the northern shore. “Ever since Lila found Gran’s old snowshoes up in the attic, Seth has been making use of them.”
At the mention of Lila, Suzanne steeled herself and tried to do the right, polite thing. “How are Lila and Beck?”
The reminder that Suzanne had suffered a wild crush on her sister’s new fiancé took Meg’s smile from natural to forced. “They’re fine.”
They moved into the parlor, where Meg already had two mugs of hot chocolate waiting on the mantel. “I assume she’s...moved in with him,” Suzanne said, picking up a mug, letting it warm hands just pulled from mittens.
“Not officially,” Meg replied, taking up the other cup. “She still has stuff here. But she mostly stays at his house, yes. It makes sense, given the distance and weather.”
Suzanne nodded.
“They walked down and had dinner with us last night, though,” Meg went on as they settled on the sofa. “Then we played cards and watched a movie.”
“That’s great,” Suzanne said, suddenly feeling like the odd man out. It was no fun being the cutoff corner of a love triangle, and now she got to envision her best friend and Seth having cozy evenings with the man Suzanne had so wanted to connect with—along with Meg’s sister.
But you like Lila, remember? You have to get past this, move on. So she made herself add, “I’m really happy for Lila. And Beck. Both of them.” Fake it ’til you make it. She lived by those words lately.
That was when Meg bit her lip again. “Oh God, I’m being insensitive by going on about them.” She shut her eyes. “I feel like I’m doing everything wrong lately. I’m sorry, Suz.”
Meg’s honesty made her feel bad about the roadblocks life had put between them lately. It was no one’s fault—it just was. “It’s really okay,” Suzanne promised her. “I’m still getting used to the situation—but I need to. It’s going to be part of our friendship now.”
“Speaking of getting used to situations,” Meg proceeded cautiously, “how are things with Zack?”
Suzanne drew in a deep breath. One thing she hadn’t thought about before coming here was... I’m unwittingly attracted to Meg’s ex-lover now. No way she could tell her that. So she’d just have to leave it out of the equation as she formed an answer—more faking it. “We’re...getting along better now. He realizes I’m only trying to help him, and that’s made things more cordial. Except for when he’s biting my head off anyway, that is.”
“That’s great to hear,” Meg replied, then laughed. “Except for the head-biting part. But given the situation, guess that doesn’t surprise me.” She lowered her voice slightly for the next question, as if almost afraid to ask it. “How’s he doing with everything? With maybe never walking again?”
“Also better,” Suzanne told her. “We don’t talk about the long-term prospects—I just try to keep him hopeful. And we do physical therapy every day, too. It’s helping a lot—not only with strength and mobility, but because it provides some positive structure to the long days.”
“Wow—I never thought of that. Your nursing skills are really paying off. You’re doing more for him than Dahlia, or I, or anyone else really could.”
Part of Suzanne still resented that her old profession made her the obvious person to drop Zack on—but Meg’s sincerity made it nice to be appreciated.
Then Meg blew out a sigh. “It does my heart good to know he’s doing well. I mean, it’s not like I suddenly stopped caring about him when Seth and I got together. I’ve been sick that he’s in this position and I can’t be there for him.”
Suzanne flashed back on the day Zack first came to her house, how desperately she wanted Meg to come in, help them both get acclimated. But instead of dwelling on old hurt, she said the most direct, sensible thing she could think of. “Well, that’s why I’m there for him. Since you and Dahlia can’t be.”
Though only after the words left her did she realize she’d spoken them in an almost proprietary way. He’s not yours to take care of anymore. He’s mine. For right now. Even if I didn’t want him when all this started. Even if you’re suddenly having some kind of weird regrets. Even if now I kind of want him but can’t have him. Even if he wanted me last night in a totally meaningless way.
“Well, I’m grateful he’s in such good hands.”
Okay, good—Meg hadn’t heard the possessiveness in her voice. Maybe it hadn’t even been in her voice—maybe it was only in her heart. But where on earth had it come from?
“Thank you,” Meg said then. “For taking care of him for me.”
Suzanne looked over her steaming mug, lips pressed tight together. She’d so missed Meg, so wanted everything to be normal with Meg. Yet they were right back in that awkward place they’d last left each other—with Meg hanging on to Zack emotionally in a way Suzanne didn’t like.
Even if, at the same time, she understood. Meg had loved him. Of course she still had feelings for him. Why did it bother Suzanne so much?
I’m not taking care of him for you. I’m taking care of him because no one else would. I’m taking care of him because he needs me. You’re not part of this, Meg. Thankfully, she kept all that inside. And from somewhere she mustered up a quiet and awkward, “You’re welcome.”
It got easier when they turned to other subjects. They’d both heard from Dahlia, and both mostly quit being mad at her, but agreed there was still something about this whole trip they just didn’t get. Suzanne found out Seth was setting up a workshop in the toolshed with the help of some space heaters, where he could paint and refinish furniture
, and which he might add on to come spring. They were also planning to repaint a couple of guestrooms—keeping the inn up-to-date was a never-ending project.
When Suzanne politely inquired more about Lila’s plans for moving to the island permanently, Meg explained that her sister had accepted a managerial position at the Knitting Nook from the owner, Allie Hobbs, whom they were all friendly with, starting in spring. “And maybe by then,” Meg said, “some of the trouble with her old boss will have blown over.”
“What trouble?” Suzanne asked.
“Oh my,” Meg replied. “So much has been going on, I forgot you didn’t know. It’s actually all over the news in Chicago—and Lila won’t mind if I tell you.” Meg then explained that her sister had spoken out after her high-powered boss sexually assaulted her, then fired her, and that she was only one in a long line of victims. “Though of course she doesn’t like that word for it, and I don’t blame her. She’s been through a lot, and I’m proud of her for being brave enough to take a stand so this slimeball can’t keep hurting women.”
The story left Suzanne flabbergasted and served to remind her that everyone had troubles. Lila might have Beck Grainger, but suddenly Suzanne didn’t envy her quite as much as she had a few minutes earlier. And she resolved to give Lila a hug the next time she saw her and truly get past the awkwardness between them.
Now if she could only do as much with her best friend. Since, after all that, Meg came back to talking about Zack, saying again how much it broke her heart that he had to go through this without her.
You chose for him to go through it without you. But again Suzanne bit her tongue.
“Was I right?” Meg suddenly asked. “To not be involved? You know I worried it would only confuse things—and I don’t want that for either of us. But part of me still wonders if I should have...been around more.”
“I actually do think you were right,” Suzanne said. At the time she’d felt so abandoned, like they should take a team approach. But now...well, now that was water under the bridge, and she and Zack had adjusted and didn’t particularly need any help.
