Jaded: Zane and Honor
Cliffside Bay Book Three
Tess Thompson
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No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authorʹs imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
For my friend and colleague Heather Huffman.
Like my heroine, she lives with graceful strength and fierce courage. May her life be as beautiful as she makes it for others.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
Chapter One
Zane
* * *
ZANE SHAW HADN’T PLANNED on becoming a stalker at age thirty. He’d set out to be a hero like his dad, not the bad guy. His life’s intention had been as simple and clear as the constancy of the ocean waves that lulled him to sleep every night. I will be my father’s son. A good man.
Yet, here he stood at his front windows watching Honor Sullivan’s house like the antagonist in a crime novel. He blamed the stupid angle of his building. Who constructed a dwelling in a beach town with a view of the hillside rather than the sea? His front windows looked directly into the hill above the main street of Cliffside Bay. Dense with homes, porch lights peppered the gradual slope, and at the very top, Honor’s house perched like a lighthouse to a lonely sailor. Watch me. Come home to me.
One couldn’t always steer the trajectory of life in the direction of their choice. He hadn’t planned on being left at the altar by Natalie before the wedding that wasn’t a wedding. He hadn’t foreseen his father’s rapid decline into dementia or the need to take over the family bar and grill. He most certainly had not planned on falling in love with Honor Sullivan.
A lamp in her front window told him she was still awake. Honor always turned the lamp off before she went to bed, at least according to the last several weeks of data he’d collected in his new role as stalker extraordinaire.
The clock struck midnight. Downstairs in his bar and grill, The Oar, his sister would be in the office going through receipts.
Honor’s home safe. Now look away. Jackson and Maggie had dropped her home after a night at the bar. There was no reason to bore a hole into the side of her house. He watched out of concern, yes. This was true. Partly true. A little true. Fine. He could admit it to himself. The intense watching of her home was not completely altruistic. He hated himself for it, but he wanted to know she was alone. He needed to know.
Honor Sullivan, I’m so madly in love with you I can’t eat or sleep or think. I want you next to me, now and for the rest of my life.
There was a flash of headlights on the narrow road that led to Honor’s place. A car on her street after midnight? No, don’t turn into her driveway. The car made the hairpin turn. Red taillights mocked him as the car made its way up the steep, paved driveway to her house. Was it a man? A boyfriend? Had she called someone to meet her this late at night?
You know the answer. A man was pulling into her driveway after midnight. That meant only one thing. He clenched his teeth. The muscle in his cheek twitched. Why had he allowed it to come to this? If he could just admit his feelings, it might be him pulling into her driveway.
The car stopped in the parking space in front of her garage. Headlights went out, followed by taillights. Was someone getting out? It didn’t seem so. If only he could see better. He needed binoculars. No, he needed a telescope.
Wait. He had a telescope. It had been a gift from his father the Christmas before the Alzheimer’s diagnosis changed their worlds. Zane had tucked it away for a time when he could study the stars. During the past four years, he’d been too busy working to look at stars. Somehow, though, he’d found time to watch Honor’s house.
He ran across the room, almost slipping on the hardwood floor in his socks, and yanked open the closet door. The telescope was still in its box, neatly stacked on top of a few puzzles. Before he could think better of the decision, he pointed the invasive piece of metal directly at Honor Sullivan’s front door. He pressed his eye to the telescope’s lens. The car was still there, almost impossible to make out in the dark, except for the glow of a cellphone from the driver’s seat that cast light upon the figure behind the wheel. He supposed it was a man, given the bulky, thick shoulders and baseball cap. Why couldn’t it be a beefy woman? Why, why, why?
Why would this jerk just sit in the driveway and not get out of the car? Maybe Zane wasn’t the only one stalking Honor?
Or, maybe the guy was lost? Cliffside Bay was cursed with narrow, steep roads and small driveways. It was possible he turned into the wrong driveway and was now trying to find his way out by looking at the map on his phone.
Zane stared out the window. Should he call Honor and tell her someone was in her driveway? Or should he go up there and check it out himself? Get real. Who would be at her house that late unless it was one of her boyfriends? He was probably sitting in the driveway texting her that he’d arrived for his booty call. His stomach clenched. The thought of another man’s hands on her made him want to smash the telescope through the window.
The clock’s second hand moved in angry, little ticks. The car didn’t budge. That’s it. Zane would text Honor. No, he would call her. Less chance for her to misinterpret his meaning. No. You can’t call her, idiot. She’ll know you’re stalking her.
He called Maggie instead.
“Hello.” She sounded breathless.
“It’s Zane.”
“I know who it is. What do you want? I was in the middle of something.”
Maggie didn’t need to finish the sentence. He knew what that meant. She and Jackson were engaged and madly in love. “I, um, there’s a car in Honor’s driveway and it’s freaking me out.”
“I’m not going to ask how you know this.”
“I have a telescope pointing at her driveway,” he said.
“Zane. Seriously? You need help.”
“I know. But do you think she’s okay? Maybe this guy’s a stalker or something?”
“I think we know who the stalker is here, but if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you call her?”
“She’ll know I’m watching her house.”
There was silence from the other end of the phone for a few seconds before Maggie let out a noisy sigh. “True.” Another sigh. “Fine, I’ll call and let her know.”
“No, wait. It’s all right. The car’s leaving.” It must have been someone lost. Nothing to worry about. Relief coursed through his body, leaving him depleted of all energy. “Sorry I bothered you.”
“Zane, I’m worried about you. For real,” she said.
“It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal. You’re making yoursel
f sick when there’s a perfectly good solution.”
Was there, or was he just setting himself up for more heartbreak? “You’re right. I’m going to do it. Tomorrow,” he said.
“Promise me?”
“Yes.” He sank onto the arm of his sofa. “It’s gotten pretty bad when I have a telescope pointed at her house and feel murderous when I see a car pull into her driveway.”
“You said it, not me,” Maggie said. “We’ve been friends all our lives, right?”
“Yeah.” Here comes the lecture.
“I’ve never seen you like this about a woman.”
Other than about you when we were kids.
“Please, Zane, do yourself a favor and make a move. I guarantee you she feels the same way about you. She’s petrified too, but one of you must break the cycle. You’ve always been such a badass. I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything, until now. I don’t understand what the problem is here. And don’t tell me it’s the wedding that wasn’t a wedding. You had your heart broken. I get it. I know life has kicked you to the curb a few times, but it has everyone. Life’s hard a lot of the time. The key is to find that person who will be there to support you through the rough stuff. Someone who adores you, faults and all.”
“I know.” Like you and Jackson. Like Kara and Brody.
“Do it tomorrow,” Maggie said. “I mean it.”
“I will. Tomorrow I will ask her on a proper date.”
“She’s in love with you too,” Maggie said. “Everyone knows it.”
He heard Jackson’s voice in the background. “Tell him to go to bed.”
“Go to bed,” Maggie said.
“Yes ma’am.”
He tossed his phone onto the couch. Jackson and Maggie were getting married in October. Pretty soon they’d have perfect little babies. Where would Zane be? Still alone. Still the third wheel. Maybe that was part of his obsession with Honor. He loved being miserable. Loved focusing on a woman he couldn’t have.
Back in high school, he kept his feelings for Maggie a secret from everyone. Not that it mattered. She’d loved Jackson Waller since they were six years old and walked to school with their lunch boxes stuffed into backpacks. Lunch boxes. He hadn’t thought of those in a long time. He could still remember what they looked like: a ballerina for Maggie, Superman for Jackson, and the Incredible Hulk for Zane. Maggie’s mother and Jackson’s mother had packed perfect lunches with all the food groups. He’d made his own because his father slept in the mornings. That’s what happened when you owned a bar. Your young son made his own breakfast and lunch. Dinner was in the kitchen of the restaurant with the cooks. He knew more dirty jokes than any boy in town. Not that he shared them with anyone. Jackson’s mother, Lily, would have shut that down fast.
Being secretly in love with Maggie had been a great source of fuel for his ambition. He held onto that anger all through high school. There were times he wanted to tear things apart with his bare hands just to release some of the rage. But it hadn’t really been about Maggie and Jackson. He knew that now. The anger came from this sense that life had wronged him. No mother. A father who worked like the devil to keep a small-town bar and grill afloat but didn’t have enough left over at the end of the month to buy him new tennis shoes. Poor Zane. It embarrassed him to remember what a brat he’d been.
If he could have one more day of those years left, he’d spend it all with his dad. He’d make sure his dad knew how proud he was of him.
The light went out in Honor’s front room. Good, she was going to bed. Alone. Thank you, God.
When they were growing up, he would never have thought he’d end up back in Cliffside Bay. His sole purpose once they graduated from high school was to get a degree that led to a lucrative job, so he could send most of it home to his dad. A big job in a big city would free them from the family curse of near poverty. His dad could sell the restaurant and retire, play golf with Jackson’s father and the other rich cats in town. He could go on the first vacation of his life. Zane had done it too. He’d gotten a business degree from USC. After graduation he’d landed a sales role in a big corporation and quickly became the number one sales person in the company. Unfortunately, every day killed a part of his soul. It was worth it, though, to send those checks home. His father had paid off the loan on this very building with that money. They owned the building and the restaurant free and clear. He’d be doing well if it weren’t for the astronomical costs of the memory care facility where his dad had to live now.
Almost four years ago Zane’s wedding that wasn’t a wedding and his father’s subsequent admittance to a memory care facility made a life in L.A. impossible. Zane had come home to Cliffside Bay, shattered and exhausted. The life he’d thought he’d wanted was no longer an option. He had to help his dad, but in a whole different way than he’d planned. The universe, or God, or however this stuff worked, had made sure of that.
He’d donated his suits to Goodwill, wiped the mildew off his surfboard, and moved home to the apartment above the restaurant. What surprised him was how right it felt to be back in Cliffside Bay and at the helm of The Oar—like he was supposed to be here, like destiny. Seeing his dad deteriorate wrenched his heart. It sucked bad, no two ways about it. However, and it was a big however, running the family bar and grill made him happy, even fulfilled. Dare he say, proud? Yes, proud to carry on with his father’s life work like a Shaw. No one told him what to do or how to do it. He’d changed the menu and added microbrews and updated the décor. He added Taco Tuesdays and live music on the weekends. After the first year, the bar and grill thrived. Locals had kept the place afloat over the years, but now tourists flocked to The Oar, much to the old-time residents’ horror. They hated strangers. Zane loved them, especially those with disposable income and a thirst for a good drink.
He’d renovated the apartment above the business with his own hands. Dark green carpets replaced by light maple wood floors and dingy tan walls painted Comfort Gray and Snowbound, along with new furniture in soft whites and yellows, had transformed his dad’s apartment into his oasis.
His best friends from college, the Dogs, all lived here now. There were days at the beach, garden barbeques, and weddings to look forward to. Soon, there would be babies to call him Uncle Zane.
Other than the fact he was now a stalker, he loved his life.
Zane didn’t ask to notice her. He really didn’t want to notice her. Until Honor wriggled her way into his heart, he was an ordinary man. A little jaded, yes, what with the whole wedding that wasn’t a wedding betrayal, but still within the range of normal. One fleeting night with Honor and he was done, ruined. No other woman would do. Her golden hair and glowing skin and those chestnut brown eyes were just part of her charm. The brain that went with her pretty outsides did it for him in a way nothing else could.
Zane was in love with all five feet, two inches of her spirited, gutsy, smart, gorgeous self. He had a new intention for his life. Make Honor Sullivan my wife.
A key in the front door rattled and Sophie bounced into the living room. My little sister. He wasn’t entirely acclimated to the fact he had a sibling, especially a twenty-year-old sweetheart like Sophie. The sister he never knew existed had been the surprise of his life. Well, other than Maggie being alive.
He smiled, imagining explaining all this to a stranger. It would take a novel to tell the details, but the elevator pitch was simple. My dad and my best friend Maggie’s mom had an affair, thus making Sophie. We didn’t know about her until a few months ago. We all thought Maggie was dead, but her father faked her death.
“What’re you doing awake?” Sophie asked. “You weren’t waiting up to see how things went downstairs were you?”
If only.
“No. I wasn’t tired yet. How did it go tonight?” This was only Sophie’s second shift as the solo manager of The Oar. His sister moving in with him to learn the family business still felt like a dream. A good dream.
“It went awesome, other than a couple of the
guys in the back giving me a hard time.”
“What kind of hard time?” He’d beat the living crap out of anyone who laid a hand on his baby sister.
“Just acting like I was a child type of thing.” She took her long blond hair out of a ponytail. “Gosh, that feels good. My head starts to hurt after a long night.”
“I’ll straighten the guys out tomorrow,” Zane said.
“No, don’t. I need to do this on my own. I can’t have my big brother rescuing me.”
“I’m proud of you.”
She ducked her head and flashed him one of her sweet smiles that reminded him so much of his dad. “I’m pretty psyched to be here.”
“I bought you some new towels and sheets for your bed this morning. Pink.”
“Pink?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Don’t girls like pink?” he asked.
“Little ones.”
“You are little.”
She grinned. “I’m almost as tall as you.”
Sophie was a tall girl, but she had a few inches to go before she reached his six-foot stature.
“Do you not like pink? They’re more of a blush,” he said.
“I love that you got them for me. Totally unnecessary.”
“I want this to feel like your home too. We can return them and get whatever you want.”
“I’ll let you know. And I do like having a big brother looking out for me.”
“Even though you don’t need one?”
“That just makes it better.” She yawned. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed now.”
“Good idea.”
She stopped at the windows. “What’s with the telescope?”
Jaded Page 1
