Tim wandered through the empty bookcases until he reached the front of the store. Zoe stood at a high desk with her back to him.
“Zoe.”
She jumped and spun, holding a hand to her chest. “Puta merda! What are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I told you I was fine. I’m just busy.” She turned back around and continued working on whatever it was in front of her. “So you can go.”
He stepped closer to the desk. “You’re not any busier today than you were two days ago, Zoe. What happened?”
“I think you should ask your girlfriend that.”
“I thought I was,” he said softly.
Zoe’s head snapped up and she glared at him. Finally, a response. Even if it was anger, he’d take that over the flat, dead voice she had been speaking to him with.
“Then ask your other girlfriend. The one that came into my store and warned me to stop seeing you.”
What the fuck? “Zoe, I don’t have another girlfriend. You are the only woman I am even remotely interested in.”
She left the desk and brushed passed him. “I don’t have time for this. Please leave.”
“You don’t have time for this or you don’t have time for me?”
Zoe spun sharply and faced him. Fuck. Tears spilled over her bottom lashes and tracked down her cheeks. The sight gutted him. He never wanted to be part of whatever was causing her to cry.
“I don’t have time to feel this way.” She pointed at the center of her chest. “I don’t have time to be hurt. I don’t have time to be with someone who would cheat, whether it’s with me or on me.”
“I am not cheating—with you or on you. I do not know who this woman is or why she warned you to stay away from me. I swear to you.”
Anguish filled her eyes. “I want to believe you. I do. But I don’t know how to trust what you’re telling me.”
Tim stepped closer until he was close enough to reach out and touch her. So when the time was right, he could gather her in his arms.
“Then trust this: I will never cheat on you because my wife cheated on me. Then she left me for her abusive, drug-dealing ex-boyfriend. I will never treat you that way, Zoe. Ever.”
She covered her face with her hands and her shoulders shook with her sobs.
“Zoe.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was muffled behind her hands.
Gently, he wrapped his arms around her until she switched her hands for his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she cried.
“Shhh.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Don’t. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”
Bending down, he picked her up and carried her back the way he’d come to the chair he’d passed on the way in. It was the perfect size for him to sit and cradle her close while she cried out her anger and fear. He hadn’t been lying—they’d figure this out and then he’d pay a visit to whoever had been filling her head with their bullshit.
It took Zoe a good fifteen minutes to stop crying. Sitting in Tim’s lap with her head tucked into the crook of his neck while he rubbed her back and whispered nonsense words felt better than it should.
Her chest ached. From her ribs heaving as she cried or from the pain of her heart slowly breaking over the past two days, she didn’t know.
“I should have talked to you,” she said. “But I was so hurt at the thought of someone doing that to me again, I didn’t want to even look at you.”
Tim’s lips brushed against her forehead again. “Please promise me, if you ever have any doubts, you’ll ask me first. I will always be honest with you, Zoe.”
She nodded against his neck. “Will you tell me about your ex-wife?”
His chest rose and fell under her as he took a deep breath and released it. “I met Monica while on duty. Her boyfriend had been beating on her and her neighbors called the cops. I tried to get her to press charges, but she refused. It happened a couple more times until I was able to finally convince her to go to a shelter and charge her boyfriend with battery. Turns out he was dealing drugs as well so he got a six-month sentence for possession with intent.
“I was worried about her, so I checked up on her a few times. Checking up on her led to taking her to coffee, then dinner, and a year later we were married. She was always a little skittish…a little secretive, but I attributed it to her history. I tried to get her to see a therapist, but she refused. Said she was fine and there was nothing to talk about.”
He paused and she waited, afraid to look at him and see the depth of his pain from being betrayed by the woman he had loved.
“About six months in, I came home one afternoon and she’d packed up all her clothes. She told me she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t be married to someone who treated her like she was a porcelain doll. Her ex-boyfriend—the one who’d been beating on her—picked her up from our house. She’d been cheating on me with him before we ever got married. The bitch of it was, I couldn’t figure out why she married me in the first place.”
At least Mark had left her for someone relatively normal—if cheating on your husband and then going back to him with another man’s baby could be considered normal. Running off with your drug-dealing abusive ex was a whole other level.
She lifted her head. “You’ve never treated me like I’m porcelain.”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “You’ve never seemed fragile.”
“I’m afraid the bookstore is going to fail,” she whispered. It seemed to be the time for deep confessions.
His lips quirked up, showing off his dimple. “I don’t think failing is on any of your checklists.”
“I’m serious, Tim.” She tried to get up from his lap, only to have his hands wrap tighter around her hips and waist.
“So am I, Zoe. You’re the most passionate and driven person I’ve ever met. I have no doubt this bookstore is going to be a success. The question is, why are you afraid it’s going to fail?”
She chewed on the end of her thumbnail. “Because then I’d have to admit to my family that I made a mistake and I screwed up.”
“Zoe, I’m pretty sure the only way this bookstore is going to fail is if you didn’t put any books in it. It’s all Bree and Denise can talk about. I’ve heard more than a few people at the station talking about it. I haven’t seen a whole lot of advertising yet, but people are already excited about having a bookstore in town. If—if—this bookstore fails, it’s not going to be because you made a mistake and screwed up.”
She swallowed hard. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her with such conviction and belief. Tears burned the backs of her eyes again, spilling down the side of her face.
“Hey. What did I say? Why’re you crying again?”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
He cupped the side of her face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “I care about you, Zoe. Of course I believe in you.”
Zoe pressed her lips to his. He let her set the pace and didn’t try to deepen the kiss. As if he was afraid to do so would push her away. But after two days away from him, she wanted to crawl inside him and never leave. Except that sounded creepy, even inside the confines of her own mind.
She wanted to be with him. In her store. In her dream made into reality. Because if everything was going to be too good to be true, it should all be in the same place.
Nipping at his bottom lip until he opened his mouth, she swept her tongue inside to tangle with his. A small growl sounded in the back of his throat and he still didn’t make an effort to move his hands. To grab her ass or her breast.
What did a girl have to do to get laid around here?
She straddled him in the chair and ran her hands down his chest. “Tim.”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to make love to me.”
She felt his grin against her lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sw
iveling her hips, she brushed the apex of her thighs against the increasingly hard front of his jeans.
“Here?”
“Yes.” She lifted the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it from his body. “Well, maybe not in the chair since customers are going to sit here at some point in the future.”
He smirked. “Good call. Floor?”
“The floor’s good.” She gripped the sides of his face and meshed her lips to his again.
Finally...finally…his fingers dug into the outside of her ass and he held her tightly as he took them to the ground. She wrapped her legs high and tight around his waist, refusing to allow any separation between them until absolutely necessary.
He lifted his head slightly and stared down at her, searching her eyes. “You sure you want to christen your bookstore?”
It was her turn to smirk. “Absolutely.”
“All right, then.” He yanked off her shirt and before she could really process how quickly it happened, Tim had her naked and his pants were down around his knees.
He sank deep in one smooth stroke and groaned into her neck. “Fuck, I missed you.”
An electric current raced through her body, followed quickly by a sense of rightness. Damn, she’d wasted two days of this. Thank God, he was so tenacious and hadn’t let her go without a fight.
“I missed you too,” she whispered.
He pulled out and thrust back in, quickly finding a rhythm that sent her hurtling toward the edge of her orgasm. Running a hand up her thigh, he pulled her leg over his arm and kissed her calf.
“Your legs are gorgeous,” he said. “They were the first thing I saw when you were stuck in that window. I remember thinking they weren’t as gorgeous as the ass they were attached to.”
He bottomed out and rotated his hips, grinding the root of his cock against her clit.
She sucked in a sharp breath as the first hint of her orgasm hit. A tiny spark sending her body a warning. Watching her, Tim repeated the move again and again until that spark lit and exploded deep in her.
Zoe threw her head back and cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders. He dropped his head beside hers and shorted his strokes until he finally thrust deep with a hard, full-body shudder.
Tim kissed her neck and jawline as their breathing returned to normal. He rose up on his elbows, lifting some of the weight from her.
“I think your bookstore is well and truly christened.”
“Not quite yet. There’s a few more nooks and crannies I think we should explore.”
Chapter 23
“Who’s the second coffee for?” Elba asked.
Zoe peeked up at her best friend through her lashes. “Tim…”
Elba sat down across from her. “Ah, so you guys made up! Did he break up with the other woman?”
Adding cream to her coffee, Zoe said, “He said he’s not dating anyone else and he has no idea who the woman was or why she warned me off him.”
Elba’s raised eyebrow could give The Rock a run for his money. “And you believe him?”
Zoe understood her disbelief. Neither of them had the best track record when it came to men and their lack of fidelity. “I do. I’ve been lied to and gaslighted enough that I think I would be able to recognize the signs by now. I think—I know—Tim is telling the truth.”
“Okay. As long as you’re good with where you are. But I’m giving him the third degree when he gets here.”
“Already here.” Tim bent down and kissed Zoe, then sat next to her, draping his arm across the back of her chair. “What do you want to give me the third degree about?”
“Is it casual day at the office?” Elba asked.
“My weekend is Friday and Saturday,” he said. “Is that part of the interrogation?”
“No. I want to know who this twatwaffle is that tried to warn Zoe away.”
“Elba.” Zoe really didn’t like the tone she was using. She’d told her she believed Tim, that should be all she needed.
“What? Was she not a twatwaffle?”
Zoe had to give her that, but she did it rolling her eyes. “She was a twatwaffle.”
“Thank you.” She shifted her pointed gaze back to Tim. “So who is she?”
“I have no idea.” He looked at Zoe. “What did she look like?”
Zoe shrugged. “Mid-twenties, normal, overly tanned, overly highlighted, way too much makeup, blond girl.”
“Hell, that’s half the chicks that walk in here,” Elba said.
Tim tugged on one of Zoe’s curls absentmindedly. “I honestly don’t know anyone that fits that description. The only blonde I have more than a passing acquaintance with is Denise and you’ve met her. Plus, she’s married so she wouldn’t be warning you off me. Unless you hate dogs. Then all bets are off and you’re on your own.”
Zoe grinned. “I don’t hate dogs.”
Tim kissed her. It was quick, but he did it in front of Elba without any hesitation. “Then you’re good.”
“So no idea who this chick is?” Elba asked.
“None. I’m not cheating on her, Elba.”
“Hmf.”
Zoe sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. She loved Elba and loved that she was protective of her, but she also wasn’t one to let something go.
“I need to check on orders and customers.”
“Before you go, did you decide on where you wanted the cameras? The security guy will be here at two to install the system.”
Elba shrugged. “One in the kitchen and one in the dining area, I guess. Let him figure out the best positioning.” She topped off their coffees and returned the pot to the coffee maker before disappearing into the kitchen.
Tim angled his body toward her. “Do you mind if I hang out with you today?”
“I’ll be working in the bookstore all day.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. Put me to work today so you can spend the day with me tomorrow.”
“Tim—”
“One day, Zoe. I know how important this is to you and if you don’t get everything done, then I’ll be right back here with you to take care of it tomorrow.”
She chewed her lip and cataloged everything she wanted to get done today and tomorrow. If Tim helped her, they might be able to get it all knocked out.
“Okay, but if we don’t get everything done, the deal’s off.”
“I can work with that.”
If he kept smiling at her like that, they weren’t going to get anything done. At all.
“How long have you been awake?”
Zoe tilted her head back and found Tim looking at her through sleepy eyes.
“Not long.”
“What are you thinking so hard about?” He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it over her shoulders.
“Mentally going through my checklist.”
“No checklists. You promised to spend the day with me. My plan doesn’t involve checklists.”
“That’s today. Tomorrow is a different story. I need to get ready for next week. I’m only two weeks away from a soft opening. I have employees to train and shelves to stock and all sorts of things to freak out about.”
“Why a bookstore? Why not a smoothie bar?”
Zoe snuggled into his shoulder as his fingers traced up and down her back. “A couple of reasons. We always spoke Portuguese at home before my mom married my step-dad. I knew English, but not very well. When we moved to the U.S., I struggled and had to take English as a second language in school.
“They paired us with older students to practice our reading and vocabulary. I was paired with a girl who loved fantasy books—dragons and witches, shapeshifters and faeries. We read those books instead of the boring material they gave us and my love of reading was born.
“My step-dad was in the Army and we moved three more times before we ended up here. Every time in a new school was hard, especially since I wasn’t a tall, white girl with blond hair.”
Tim rolled over so he was on top of her. “I like that you’re not
a tall, white girl with blond hair.”
She smiled. “Anyway. Books were my escape when I was in that awkward, no-friends stage of getting to a new place.”
He peppered soft kisses down her neck and across her shoulders. “What’s the other reason?”
“Huh?” His kisses were distracting. Especially when she parted her legs and he settled between them.
“You said there were a couple of reasons. Loving books is one. What’s the other one?”
“Oh. Have you heard of The Ripped Bodice?”
His head popped up. “The what?”
She chuckled at the confused look on his face. “It’s an independent bookstore out in Los Angeles that sells only romance books. The name is a play on calling romance books ‘bodice rippers.’”
“Oh. No. Never heard of it.” He resumed trailing kisses down her chest, scooting lower until his mouth was centered between her breasts.
“Not surprising. I was inspired by them. I wanted to open a small bookstore that showcased independent authors.” Lifting her shoulder, she tried to direct him closer to her breast without grabbing his head and putting it where she wanted.
Instead, she felt his teasing smile against her skin. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Are all the books in your store going to be romance books?”
“Not all of them. Could you go left or right, please?”
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Is there somewhere in particular you want me to go?”
Grasping his hair, she tugged on his head. “You know exactly where I want you to go.”
“What if I move down instead?”
“That would be good too.”
He shifted down lower and she hummed, running her hands over the muscles of his shoulders. She was already hearing bells.
“Someone’s at your door,” Tim said.
“If you keep going, you’ll be right at my door,” Zoe said.
He chuckled and kissed just below her bellybutton. “No, sweetie. Your actual door. That was the doorbell.”
Imperfect Heart Page 14
