Good, Bad…Better

by Cindi Myers

  SHELLY AND THERESA INSISTED on going with Jen to her parents’ house. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re upset,” Shelly said, pulling out her car keys.

  “Maybe your mom has some kind of going-away party planned and she wants to surprise you,” Theresa said as they climbed into Shelly’s car.

  “Do you think so?” Jen looked back from the front seat. “Did she invite you?”

  Theresa shook her head. Jen turned to Shelly. “I know she would have invited you.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.” Shelly turned out of the parking lot. “But I’m sure it’s not something bad. Your mom would have said.”

  “She sounded really upset.” Jen stared out the window, trying not to think of all the terrible reasons why her mom would have summoned her so suddenly.

  She didn’t see the motorcycle when they first pulled into her parents’ drive. Then she heard Theresa gasp and felt her hand on her shoulder. “That’s Zach’s bike,” she said, pointing.

  Jen threw open the car door and stood on shaking legs. Memories of Zach’s behavior the last time he’d been here hit her hard. She turned to Theresa. “You don’t think he’d come here and make trouble, do you?”

  Theresa shook her head. “Maybe he came here to talk to your dad and they got into it.”

  “We’re not going to find out anything standing out here in the driveway,” Shelly pointed out.

  With a friend on either side of her, Jen walked to the front door. Her mother opened it before they were all the way up the walk. “I’m sorry if I alarmed you, dear, but I didn’t know what else to do. Thank you for coming over.” She glanced at Theresa and Shelly.

  “Uh, Mom, this is Zach’s sister, Theresa. She and Shelly were at my apartment when you called.” Jen entered the house, followed by her friends. “Is Zach here?”

  “He’s upstairs with your father. In the gallery.” She looked up the stairs, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “Why don’t you go on up?” She turned to Shelly and Theresa. “You girls can come and help me in the kitchen, if you don’t mind.”

  With one worried glance back, Theresa followed Shelly and Jen’s mom toward the kitchen. Jen looked up the stairs. She could hear the low murmur of voices. No shouting. That was a good sign, right?

  She grabbed the banister and started up, pulling herself along, heart pounding as if she was climbing a mountain instead of a staircase she’d raced up and down thousands of times.

  The door to the gallery was partly open. She paused in the hallway and peered in. Her father was standing in front of the Daniel Beach painting, a thoughtful expression on his face as he listened to something Zach was saying.

  He didn’t look angry, or even terribly upset. The thought gave her courage and she pushed open the door.

  Zach stopped speaking when she stepped into the room. She stared at him, certain it was him, but amazed at the transformation. He’d traded his leather for jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt. Minus the motorcycle clothes, with his tattoos covered, he looked almost ordinary.

  Though Zach would truly never be ordinary to her. He also looked nervous. Her father turned to her. “Oh, hello, Jen. What a surprise to see you.” He held his hand out to her. “Zach and I were just talking.”

  She went to her father and hugged him, then offered Zach a smile. “It’s nice to see you, Zach.”

  He cleared his throat. “I, uh, came by to apologize to your parents for the way I behaved at dinner the other night.” His eyes met hers briefly, then focused over her shoulder. “Then I was going to apologize to you.”

  She could only imagine what it had taken him to say those words. She reached for his hand and squeezed it, too moved to speak.

  Her father coughed. “I, uh, owe you both an apology, as well. Some of the things I said, judgments I made, may have been a little harsh.”

  “I know you were only trying to look after your daughter.”

  Her father nodded. “But good intentions don’t excuse bad behavior, do they?”

  “No, sir.”

  In that moment, Zach had never looked more handsome to her. It had nothing to do with the change of clothes or his humble demeanor. The sacrifice to his pride and the courage it must have taken to step out from behind his rebel image to come here today and make peace with someone he saw as an enemy, touched her to the core.

  “Zach and I have been talking art,” her father said. “Turns out he’s actually met Daniel Beach.”

  Zach nodded. “I did a tattoo for him a few years ago. One of my own designs. He seemed pretty pleased with it.”

  “Do you ever do any painting or drawing?” her father asked. “Something besides tattoos?”

  “I draw. Pencil, charcoal, some pastels. I haven’t painted in a while, but I’ve been thinking about taking it up again.”

  “Zach does wonderful work,” Jen said. “Some really amazing stuff.”

  “I remember seeing some drawings when I was at your studio, or whatever you call it, the night of your break-in. Designs for tattoos. Was that your work?”

  “Yeah.” Zach shifted his weight. “I draw my own designs. Sometimes I do custom work for a particular customer.”

  Her father nodded. “Well, if you ever do any paintings, I’d be interested in seeing them. I’m always looking for new artists to add to my collection.”

  Jen could have kissed her father right then and there. She hoped Zach knew there was no higher praise he could have given.

  Her mother appeared in the doorway. “Grant, would you help me downstairs for a moment?”

  He frowned. “I was just showing Zach my collection. We’ve only covered part of it.”

  “You can show him the rest later. Right now, I need you downstairs.”

  He glanced at Jen. “I think your mother’s trying to tell me it’s time to leave you two alone.” He chuckled. “All right. I can take a hint.”

  When she was alone with Zach in the gallery, Jen suddenly felt shy. She pretended to study one of the paintings, not really seeing it, every sense attuned to the man beside her. When the silence became unbearable, she cleared her throat and spoke. “It really means a lot to me, your coming over here to patch things up with my father.”

  “I know I behaved like an ass that night. I didn’t want you to have that as one of your last memories of me.”

  She took a deep breath. Here was the hard part—the part where she had to tell him she loved him, even though she was leaving. “Zach, I—”

  “I brought you something.” He moved to stand beside her, then reached into his shirt and withdrew a manila envelope. “It’s a going-away present, I guess.”

  She took the envelope. It was still warm from being next to his skin. She opened it and slid out a single sheet of drawing paper, and gasped.

  “I did it after that last night in your apartment. That image of you, sleeping, was still so vivid in my mind.”

  “Zach, it’s…amazing.” She studied the soft pencil lines. He’d drawn her lying on her side, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her, the curve of her breast just visible beneath her arm. The shadowed folds of sheet and blanket added a rich texture to the piece. She could hardly believe she had ever looked so sensuous—so beautiful. She replaced the drawing in the envelope and pressed it to her breast. “It’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever given me.”

  She swallowed hard, determined not to cry. She wanted Zach to remember her smiling, not puffy faced and red eyed from weeping. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she said.

  “Wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder, his touch silencing her. “There’s something I have to say first.”

  He turned her toward him and looked into her eyes. The intensity of that look burned away the last of the meager defenses she’d tried to build around her heart. If he could do that to her with just a look, how was she ever going to leave him?

  “You’ve done something to me I never thought a woman could do,” he said.

  “Wha
t’s that?” she whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break this spell between them.

  He cupped his hand around the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “You’ve made me fall in love with you.”

  “Oh, Zach.” She threw her arms around him and buried her face against his chest. “I love you, too. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you.”

  His arms encircled her, hugging her against him. She wished there was a way for it to always be like this between them. Why did they have to find each other now, when she was going away?

  “You’ve done something else, too,” he continued. “You’ve made me think hard about my life, and what I really want.”

  She raised her head to look up at him. “What is it you really want?” What she wanted was to ask him to come with her to Chicago. But how could she do that when she had no idea what she’d find there?

  He took a step back, and took another, smaller sheet of paper from the pocket of his shirt and gave it to her. “What is this?” she asked.

  “Read it.”

  Puzzled, she looked at what turned out to be a copy of an e-mail and read. “We are pleased to acknowledge your enrollment for the fall semester of Columbia College’s Art and Design Department.” She stared at the message for a long moment, numb, then finally noticed the address at the bottom: Chicago, Illinois. “Zach!” She gaped at him. “You’re coming to Chicago?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to take a few courses, see how it goes. If everything works out, I’ll enroll next semester in the art program.” He took her hand and studied it, rubbing his thumb along the ridges of her knuckles. “A long time ago, I let what other people thought make me put aside my dream of being an artist. A painter.” His eyes met hers once more. “Meeting you, and seeing the way you fought for your dream, helped me to rediscover my own.”

  “I did all that? But I’m the one who was supposed to be learning from you. You were teaching me how to be a bad girl.”

  “You’re not so bad.” He pulled her closer.

  “I don’t know about that.” She shimmied against him. “I can think of a few things I’d like to do right now—with you—that definitely aren’t in the repertoire of the average good girl.”

  “Hmm. I’m thinking, in the Windy City we might find a few ways to expand that repertoire.” He smoothed his hands along her hips.

  “So you’ve given up all that nonsense about us not being right for each other?”

  “Oh, I think we’re very right for each other.” He nuzzled his face to hers. “And I intend to spend every night, for as long as you’ll let me, proving that.”

  “You’d better get ready, then. You’ve got a lot of busy nights ahead of you.”

  Unable to hold back any longer, they kissed—not as if this was the last kiss they’d ever share, but as if they would have the rest of their lives to perfect it.

  Epilogue

  “ARE THEY COMING OUT YET?” Jen stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to see farther into the doorway of the church where, any minute now, Shelly and Aaron were due to emerge, on their way to the reception. The wedding itself had been perfect, right down to the way the groom choked up as he recited his vows and fit the ring on Shelly’s finger. Jen herself had sniffed her way through the ceremony, but the tears had all been happy ones.

  “The photographer’s probably making them pose for more photos.” Zach put his hand on Jen’s shoulder. “They’ll be out soon, I’m sure.”

  She smiled at him, another thrill running through her as she reminded herself that in two days they were leaving for Chicago—together. He looked absolutely amazing in his formal black suit, yet still the artist, with a silver and turquoise bolo in place of a more formal tie, and his hair caught back with a matching silver and turquoise cuff. She’d noticed more than one female wedding guest checking him out, but all his attention was focused on her. The very idea made her feel all dreamy and floaty.

  Or maybe there was just something about attending a wedding with the man you loved that brought out the romantic in every woman. Not that she and Zach were talking marriage, but she had a really good feeling about their future together. And maybe someday…

  “Here they come!”

  She turned around in time to see Shelly and Aaron emerge, arm in arm, from the church. The crowd of well-wishers pelted them with birdseed and shouted their congratulations until the couple piled into their car and drove away.

  Still laughing, Jen and Zach turned to head to Jen’s car. Halfway across the parking lot, her father and mother intercepted them. “Wasn’t that a gorgeous wedding?” her mother said.

  “Shelly was beautiful,” Jen agreed. “And Aaron looked so sweet and nervous.”

  “All grooms are nervous.” Her father smiled at her mother. “That’s because they have no idea what they’re really getting into.”

  “I haven’t noticed you expressing any regrets,” her mother said.

  “No, I don’t have any regrets.” He turned to Jen, his expression more somber. “Is everything all set for your trip?”

  “I think so. We shipped another bunch of boxes this morning.” She and Zach were flying to Chicago and planned to buy most of what they needed to set up housekeeping there.

  He nodded, then turned to Zach. “I’m counting on you to look after my girl, you know.” He glanced at Jen. “She may think she’s all grown-up, but her old dad can’t help worrying about her.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Zach cleared his throat. “I don’t want anything happening to her, either.”

  Jen blinked back tears and swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. Those words were the closest Zach would probably come to telling her parents he loved her, but she was sure they all knew what he meant.

  Her father nodded. “That’s good.” He hesitated, then reached out and awkwardly patted Zach’s shoulder. “If either of you need anything, you call us.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her mother took her father’s arm. “We’d better get to the reception,” she said. “I promised Shelly’s mother I’d help make sure everything was set up properly.”

  “All right, then.” Her father nodded to them. “We’ll see you there.”

  Jen hooked her arm in Zach’s and leaned close. “I think my dad might actually be starting to like you,” she said softly.

  Zach watched her parents walk toward their car. “He doesn’t hate me anymore. That’s a start.” He looked at her. “Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter.”

  “You say that, but sometimes I think you’re only pretending you don’t care what people think of you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got news for you, though. Most people think more highly of you than you give them credit for.”

  “I only care what one person thinks. You.”

  “I love you, Zach Jacobs.”

  He put his arm around her. “I love you, too, Jen Truitt. Who would have thought a good girl like you would end up with a guy like me?”

  “Maybe I’m a reformed good girl.”

  “Maybe I’m the one who’s reformed.” He glanced at her. “Love will do strange things, huh?”

  “Wonderful things.” Strangely wonderful, scary, amazing, awesome things.

  If love could help a good girl be a little bad, and a bad boy discover the good in himself, who knew what other miracles it could work in their lives?

  With special thanks to Sister Bear and all the people at The Blue Door

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6690-6

  GOOD, BAD…BETTER

  Copyright © 2005 by Cynthia Myers.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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