by Emily Childs
“I was only given an extra week.”
“But you asked for it, so that means you wanted to stay longer, right?”
“It’s crazy, right?”
Dot leans in as the cashier hands a plastic bag over the counter. “If love isn’t a little crazy, it’s not worth it in my opinion. Listen, Jo, take it from me who has a slew of romantic regrets, if you care about the man, you let him know. Don’t just settle. I let a guy get away from me and it wasn’t until I started explaining my breakup to you that I realized I did it without demanding to know why. Maybe it’s been too long for me, but if you can see yourself with Zac, then you need to do what feels right.”
We head outside and I slide into the passenger seat in Dot’s car. “Moving somewhere else for a guy I just started dating seems nuts, and it’s not like I’ve got the cleanest record with men. The guy I thought I’d end up with found someone else in a matter of days, so.”
“That’s his problem. Look, according to Olive, who is our eyes into Zac’s psyche through Rafe, Zac’s never told a woman he loved her. Why do you think Olive nearly split her skin when you told us? But I also understand it’s a lot to ask you to give up your life up north. My suggestion is to take the week, and at the end see how you feel. It’s not like long-distance relationships are impossible in the modern world.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
“This week will be all about relaxing, and just being okay with it.”
“It’s exciting to start something new. Enjoy that feeling for a little while.”
Dot isn’t wrong. I haven’t stopped smiling since Zac told me he loved me. The heart clinic director hadn’t put up any sort of argument when I’d fibbed and said my community service extended a week. Thankfully, Mr. Randolph found the entire thing hilarious. He assured me hearts would still need me after I did my hard time. It wasn’t funny at first, but I had a good laugh with him all the same. And Zac’s face after I told him I’d be here an extra week so we could figure this out was wholly worth it. He’s even off at the shop for the next three days.
An hour later, I pull my rental car up to Zac’s house. I felt bad keeping the BMW another week, so despite Olive’s protests, I got my own. The kitchen light is on, and through the front window, I see Zac’s shadow moving around. I take a deep breath and step out of the car. This’ll be good.
I’m terrified.
Inside, Zac ruffles through the kitchen drawers and I take a minute to stare at him. Gawk, really. He’s delicious to look at, after all. I almost laugh when I think back to the day at the airport when Zac picked me up. I’d vowed the entire flight to despise him. He was supposed to be awful, maybe pick his nose, but now my heart races at an impossible pace whenever I think of touching him again. Or when those arms curl around me. Those kisses. I draw in a sharp breath through my nose and make my presence known before I zone out too far.
“Hey there.”
Zac glanced over his shoulder and grins. “Hey.” He crosses the kitchen in three paces and has me in his arms in one heartbeat and kisses me. When he became the desire of my entire soul, I can’t really say. But if being with him means this warm, safe zing whizzing through my body, then sign me up.
“Weren’t you going to take me somewhere?”
I bite my bottom lip. “It’s hard to go anywhere when you kiss like that.”
“Well, I live to please.”
Zac snatches his wallet from a ceramic bowl on the counter, and my stomach twists in a hard knot. “You know, maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“You look nervous. Now I’m even more curious.”
“It’s fishing,” I blurt out once we’re in his truck.
“What?”
“Now that I think about it, this was probably a bad idea. You told me it’s too hard, and I—”
He silences me with a quick kiss. “Jo, relax. If I remember right, someone told me it might be because I haven’t found the right fishing partner. Why not try out a girl from New York?”
I thread my fingers with his and laugh. “That was my thought, but now how awkward will the drive home be if I’m not the right partner?”
Zac shakes his head. “Josephine, you worry too much. No worrying with fishing. Just drive.”
Flickers of pale-yellow fireflies pop like little sparks around the lake. The water laps along the shore in soothing ripples. Zac leans against the bank, and I rest my head on his shoulder.
“Nothing is happening,” I whisper.
Zac chuckles and kisses the side of my head. “I told you it’s boring sometimes, but if you’ve got the right company, it’s the best.”
For an hour, our hooks have been in the water without so much as a tug. Eventually, we prop the line and watch the fading sun.
“Okay, well I want to get to know the little things, Zachariah.” I trace his knuckles, then his palm, then back to his knuckles.
“I’m an open book, Jo.”
I snicker and wrap my arms around his waist. “Okay . . . favorite food?”
“Pizza.”
“Really, that’s what you’re going with?”
“Yep. Cheap, greasy, and cheesy. That’s all I need in life. What about you?”
“Hmm. I love Chinese food. Noodles specifically. I live for the stuff. Probably comes from growing up with a busy doctor for a dad, and all those late-night study sessions in school. Okay, what were you like as a kid?”
“Stupid.”
“Come on, everyone was stupid.”
Zac shrugs. “I don’t know, I spent most days with Rafe and August as a teenager. We’d go to the beach, have bonfires, I’d work at the shop. Go to church on Easter. Sometimes, I’d be a good son and watch movies with my mom on Friday nights. Sometimes, I’d be a rebel and drink at the shore with my friends. I bet you never rebelled.”
“Oh, I did . . . once.”
Zac laughs and props up on one elbow. “Once. What did you do? Smoke, drink, drive over the speed limit?”
I roll my eyes and trace his chin. “More like breaking into a rival school and replacing their display mascot with ours. I might have lied—this wasn’t my first time being arrested.”
“Josephine, you are a felon.” His eyes widen.
I jab my finger in his face. “Hey, I am not a felon, at least not a good one since both times I’ve done anything I’ve gotten caught. My friends and I thought it would be funny since their football team had lost to our school for homecoming.”
“Mean, Jo. You wanted to rub salt in the wounds.”
“Exactly. But we didn’t even get by the front office before we got caught. I thought I was done for, but it helped that my dad was the rival principal’s doctor, the sheriff’s, and my entire school board’s physician. He bailed us all out, and everything was dropped.”
“So, what did he do after he bailed you out?”
I flush and tilt my head so my hair falls over my shoulders. “Remember my deal with Will? I had to do everything he did. I scrubbed my dad’s office until it sparkled for three weeks.”
Zac takes my face, drawing my mouth near his, and lets our lips hover like that until I think I might combust. “I like the rebellious side of you, Jo.”
I close the space between us. Kissing Zac will never get old. Deep and slow. Frantic and needy. I lose track of how long I’m in his arms before I pull away, leaving small kisses along his neck. “What scares you?” I whisper.
Zac swallows with effort. “Losing people,” he answers slowly. “Losing you. What scares you?”
I smile, heart in my throat as I realize how true it is and say, “The same.”
I pull him closer, ready to kiss him well into the night, but shriek when my pole lurches forward. A violent splash threatens to pull the pole from its notch on the shore.
“What do I do?” I dance on my toes and squeal.
“Grab it!” Zac shouts. “Reel it in carefully.” He laughs, maybe groans a little, and ends up clasping his hands over mine as I wiggl
e around trying to reel in my catch. “You’re going to scare everything else off if you keep screaming.”
I bounce on my toes once the fin breaks the surface, then the entire fish is wriggling. I can hardly contain myself. “Look at it! Zac, it’s huge. I’ve never caught a fish. Look how big it . . . oh, actually it’s kind of small.”
Zac’s laugh vibrates through me, and he snaps a picture of me proudly holding up my tiny little fish.
The fish was epic, but not the best part of the night. I think I feel even deeper in love with the man when he whispers next to my ear, “Best fishing partner ever.”
22
Jo
“So, are you staying or not?” Abby asks once the last patient clears out of the clinic. I love when the place is dim and quiet. Maybe it’s a little strange, but antiseptic, rubber gloves, and sterilizers are some of my favorite smells. Abby shoulders her purse. “I’m only asking because you’re starting to say y’all.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you did. Mr. Bluff said ‘bye’, and you said ‘y’all take care’. Only a month in and you’re already one of us.”
“Why are you so pushy, Abs?” I shove away from the desk and gather my messenger bag. “Sort of seems like you want me to leave.”
Abby snorts and fills her purse with a few suckers, I assume for her little boy who’s potty-training. “Quite the opposite, sugar plum. I wouldn’t mind seeing your face on a regular basis. And if you don’t mind me saying, I know we don’t know each other all that well, but you seem happy. I know this is like a new world, I know you’ve got yourself a life in New York but it’s just been my observation that you’re happy.”
I let out a long sigh. “I do feel happy, almost free, since coming here, but . . .”
“But what?”
“My heart is begging me to throw caution to the wind and rent a U-Haul tonight, but in my head it seems nuts. How can I leave everything for someone I’ve just started seeing?”
Abby grins. “If you want my advice, and you’re going to get it whether you want it or not, make the move for yourself. Or don’t, for yourself. Do I think you and Zac are the real deal? Sugar plum, there isn’t a more real deal than the way that boy drools over you, but no one knows what the future holds. If you’re happy here, if you love the guy, if you want this place to be your future, I say make the move.”
“And you wouldn’t mind seeing my face more often.”
“Well, there’s that too.”
I laugh and twirl my braid around my fingers. “As ridiculous as this sounds, it feels like forever since I’ve made really huge life decisions for myself.” The truth is embarrassing. “Since we started dating, Emmitt kind of took the wheel. I didn’t realize how much control I’d given him until now. Before that I wanted my father’s opinion, or school counselors. I feel sort of lost, almost.”
“Have you talked to Zac?”
“I don’t want him to misunderstand. I want to be with him, but he might take my back and forth wrong, you know?”
“Girl, you’ve got to talk if you’re going to be with someone. I know that oaf up north did most of the talking for you, but don’t do the same with Zac. He’s not that guy, you know. I might not have the perfect marriage, but one thing I know is my guy and me talk to each other. Even if it’s something unpleasant. Believe it or not, flapping our lips has gotten us through a lot of bumps in the road.”
“Well, he’s coming to get me in a few minutes, so maybe we’ll talk then.” My phone rings and Abby uses it as her cue to leave.
“See you tomorrow,” she says.
“Bye.” Alone, I groan at the name on the screen, but I answer. Probably out of habit. “Emmitt, what now?”
“Hey, Jo. Are you working still?”
“Yes, so I’ve got to go.”
“Wait,” he says. “Hang on a second.”
I put the phone on speaker and set it on my desk so I can gather all my files. The door dings at the front, and I smile, expecting Will probably is here to clean the clinic. The man kept his end of a bargain.
But I nearly split my skin when a voice booms behind me.
“Hey, Jo.”
I turn around with the patience of melting snow. Eyes wide and legs a little shaky. What is happening?
“What are you doing here?”
Doctor Baron takes up most of the doorframe. He’s in casual clothes, jeans, and fiddling with a set of car keys. He doesn’t say a word.
“Emmitt, I asked what you’re doing here.”
Emmitt’s brown hair is slicked to one side. Not a single whisker coats his face, and there is a condescension in his eyes I’d never noticed until I spent time looking into Zac’s unassuming, playful gaze. “I needed to speak with you.”
Of all the pretentious things. Did he expect me to swoon? “Good, you’ve spoken. You can go home now.” I clutch my bag and stomp to the door. He better move if he knows what’s good for him.
He reaches for me, but I snatch my arm away. “Come on, Jo,” he says softly. “I’ve come all this way.”
“I guess you should have called.”
“Something big has happened. If you don’t want to talk about us, I understand—”
“Why would I want to talk about us? There is no us.”
“Okay,” he says defensively, but I have a feeling that won’t be the end of it. “There is something I need to speak with you about, though.”
I groan and wheel on him. “What do you want?”
He swallows so his Adam’s apple bobs a few times before he dares take a step closer. Emmitt has a clean masculine scent that revives the senses, but my heart doesn’t flip for this man—maybe it hasn’t for a long time. His stony expression isn’t welcoming, it’s stern, like he approaches every conversation like a business arrangement.
“I’m sorry, Jo.” He reaches out his hand, but I jerk away again. “I needed you to see how torn up I am about—”
“No, I said I didn’t want to talk about our former relationship, or your new one. And I meant it. Now, what do you want?”
“Are you in a rush? You seem ready to run away.”
“My ride will be here soon.”
“Who drives you around?” He scoffs. “Made a few friends down here?”
“None of your business, but yes, I have.” I push past him and stomp out into the parking lot.
Emmitt follows, leans against his rental car, and sighs. “Okay, I know you’re mad, but I hope you’ll really consider what I’m about to say. Do you remember telling me once how you always dreamed of running a practice like your dad?”
With Emmitt, talking about my dad aches, where with Zac it’s almost a relief to relive memories. “Yes, I probably said that before.” I’d always dreamed of becoming a doctor but found favor as a PA once I got into the thick of school, but that didn’t change my once-had dream of operating a clinic. I just needed some physicians on board too.
“Well,” Emmitt says the word slowly to build anticipation. It only ticks me off. “You’ve got the opportunity.”
“What are you talking about?”
Emmitt takes another step closer. “The main cardiologist at the hospital, Doctor Reswell, wants a new cardiac extension clinic added to the hospital. All ages—a family cardiac clinic basically—and he wants you and me to head it up.”
The back of my throat goes dry and gritty. Reswell is only the most renowned cardiologist on the East Coast. I can hardly believe he even knows my name. “He asked for me, specifically?”
“I swear,” Emmitt says with a nod. “He glanced through your reports, patient feedback, and application.”
“What application?”
Emmitt kicks at the gravel. “I submitted one for both of us months ago.”
“Without telling me?”
“I wanted to surprise you before all this happened. Look, I’m sorry about that too, but he wants a specialized team of nurses, PAs, doctors, even nursing assistants are handpicked by Reswell to get started
. It will be the best of the best, Jo. But he wants us as more. He needs partners. His words exactly, if you’re not on board, the clinic won’t happen.”
“I don’t understand.” I’m good at my job, but I haven’t done anything miraculous or remarkable since I graduated. “Why me?”
Emmitt grins and when he tries to come closer, I step back. I don’t want to stand close to him. “I have a joint account, I guess a nest egg, I’ve been saving for us for about two years now. It’s still in both our names.”
“Geez, Emmitt.” Anger floods my face. “How many things have you not told me?”
“Again, in my own way, this was a surprise. Anyway, I mentioned it and after reviewing our work, he said we sounded like the perfect investors. We’d be founders.”
“How much have you saved?” I ask. This would take a lot of funds, no doubt.
“I’ve been smart with money, Jo. I always wanted to do something big together, you know. I’ve thought a lot about what you’ve said while being here. I think you were right.” Odd. This conversation is about to get interesting. “I haven’t been fair by asking you to have a passion about something you just aren’t passionate about. After realizing how stupid I was, I can respect what you want to practice. When this opportunity came up, I wanted to invest to show you how much I support you. This might not be exactly like your dad’s clinic, but I thought it was the best of both worlds. Family care, cardiology, close-knit clinics where you can have a personal touch with patients. Like you want.”
My chin quivers. Emmitt needs to stop talking about my dad. Especially since he more or less hated my father. “I don’t know if I can work with you anymore.”
Headlights pull into the parking lot and my stomach sinks. Zac. He steps out of the truck, smiling, and I guess my face must be a mess because his smile fades in a heartbeat. “Jo?” His eyes flick to Emmitt. “You good?”
“Fine,” I say, but it comes out all wrong. Breathless and raw.
“Who’s this?” Emmitt asks.
“Zac Dawson,” Zac says sternly and holds out his hand.
Emmitt takes it, but he laughs. It’s not a friendly sound. “Wait, is this the guy who caused all this, Jo?”
