I knocked it out of his hand. “You can barely see. I admit defeat. You win.”
“That’s not the way it works.” He sighed. “But this really hurts. We’ll take a short break.”
“I’m so sorry.” I felt awful.
Zach handed over a bag of frozen peas. “I haven’t needed this bag of peas since we tangled with those guys down at the creek.”
“Remind me never to eat frozen vegetables at your house.” I handed Hank his Coke. “Anything else I can get you?”
“I think my dignity is lying out there in the grass. If you find it, let me know.” Hank tilted the lounge chair back. “I hadn’t thought about that day at the creek in ages. Why were they mad at us?”
Zach dropped into a chair. “As I recall, it had something to do with you inviting his girlfriend to join us for dinner.”
“That’s right.” Hank grinned and looked at me. “He got mad because she said yes. Her friend was going to join us too.”
“That’s why we had two guys mad at us.” Zach jumped up and strolled to the barbeque pit. “We did some stupid stuff back then.”
Like a moth to light, I was drawn to the pit—not to Zach, to the barbeque.
He lifted the lid.
“Oh my goodness. That looks amazing.”
“Tastes better than it looks.” He poked at the coals then closed the lid.
“How long ago was back then?” I shoved my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t accidentally rub Zach’s back.
“Before Nacha.” Hank stared off into the distance. “I was a better person after she showed up.”
I’d taken Hank’s silence as bitterness, but I was wrong.
Zach placed a hand on my hip and whispered in my ear. “He’s crazy about her. Some people are meant to be together.”
“I wish I knew how to fix it.” I leaned into his hand, ignoring the warning bells going off in my head.
“Only they can fix it. We can’t fix their mess; we can only work on ours.”
Ours?
I whipped around to face him. Had I stepped into a parallel universe?
“Whoa. That ponytail is lethal. You almost hit me with it.” He patted my hip. “Let’s go back over there. Your brother will feel left out if I only talk to you.”
Whatever was going on would probably make my brother hate me, but it felt like sliding into a pair of well-worn jeans just out of the dryer. Warm and comfortable.
“Tell me about what other trouble you guys got into.” I sipped my Big Red.
Hank pulled the ice pack off his face. “I plead the fifth. This is feeling better. Let’s finish our game.”
“Hank, I said you won. We don’t have to finish.”
“Getting a black eye from my sister is bad enough. Having my sister let me win is intolerable.” He pointed at the Cornhole game. “It’s my turn. And no more rubbing her shoulders for luck. I might lose an eye if you keep that up.”
So much for thinking Hank wasn’t bothered by the extra attention Zach was showing me.
“Don’t be sore, Hank.” I kicked Zach’s shoe as I passed him. “I think I made him mad.”
“It might’ve been me.” He followed me out to the grass.
Hank landed another bag on the board, near the hole. “I’m ahead.”
I picked up another beanbag. “All right. Let’s see if I can tie this up.”
“If you win, I’ll watch a romantic comedy with you.” Zach winked. “Your choice.”
Maybe I was dreaming. If I was, it was a really good dream. “You’re distracting me.”
“I was trying to motivate you.” He stepped closer. “Will leaning bring you luck?”
“Quit the jabber and take your turn.” Hank pointed at Zach then pointed at a chair. “Leave her alone.”
I mentally calculated the distance between me and the hole, accounted for the wind speed—who was I kidding? I flung my beanbag into the air, praying that it wouldn’t land in the grass.
When it landed in the hole, I jumped up and down, clapping.
“Don’t celebrate. It’s my turn. You haven’t won yet.”
“Yet.” I flashed my best little-sister smile.
His beanbag landed on the wood then slid until it hung off the edge.
“Sorry. No point.” I kicked it off. “You know what that means?”
“Now we switch sides.” Hank had always been a bit competitive, but this was taking it to a whole new level. “
“It’s just a game, Hank.”
“It’s your turn.” He kicked the board. “Throw.”
Indulging his madness, I tossed the beanbag. It landed on the board.
He landed his on the board.
As tempted as I was to throw long and miss the board completely, I knew he’d only get mad that I was letting him win. My second toss landed on the board.
Everything I did, he matched it.
On my last throw, the beanbag slid off the edge.
Hank grinned. “Too bad.” He landed it in the hole. “Now we go back to that side.”
Zach looked wholly uncomfortable. And he should because in some warped sense, he was the prize.
The game went on and on. Back and forth, we stayed close in points. When it was time for my last throw, I needed to get one in the hole to win.
I glanced at Zach, and he gave a small nod.
After a deep breath, I launched the beanbag. It landed on the board, knocked Hank’s beanbag into the hole, then slid off the back of the board.
I smiled. “Good game, Hank.”
“Thanks for playing.” At least he wasn’t a sore winner. “Zach, can I talk to you inside?”
Maybe I thought that too soon.
I walked around the Cornhole game, picking up beanbags.
After ten minutes, Zach walked back out to the patio. “We still have another couple of hours until the brisket is ready. Want something? I have chips and queso, and just for you, I made a veggie tray.”
“Very funny.” I brushed past him as I walked inside but stopped to sniff his shirt. “You smell like that brisket.”
“You like that, huh?”
“A lot. And queso sounds good.”
Zach handed me a plate. “Hank had to leave.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Probably not.” Zach piled carrots on his plate. “Let’s watch a movie.”
“But I lost.” I drenched my chips in queso.
“Would you rather play Cornhole against me?”
I’d had my fill of Cornhole for the short term. “No. That game left me scarred.”
He didn’t laugh. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I’ll live.”
We settled on the sofa, and he searched up a movie.
“Do you really have a cat? I never see him.” I popped a chip in my mouth, trying not to drip queso on my shirt.
“He’s around. Waldo is funny that way. He’s hard to find if you go looking for him.” He clicked play. “This one looks funny.”
After all the flirting, I was tempted to snuggle up next to him. But I didn’t. I nestled into one end of the couch. If he wanted to snuggle, he could make that move.
He didn’t.
We made it through the whole movie without me crawling into his lap or resting my head on his shoulder.
“That was funny.” Zach pushed up off the sofa and held out his hand. “Brisket’s probably ready.”
I let him help me up. Instead of letting go of my hand once I was on my feet, he kept hold of it as we walked out to the barbeque pit. It felt so right, but I needed him to be up front with me. What had changed since Christmas?
Flames danced in the fire pit. How did I keep ending up on this patio with Zach?
“It’s late. I should go.” I stood, determined to make it out the door.
“I’ll walk you out.” His fingers brushed my arm. “Has it been a good day?”
“I’ve had a great time.” No part of that was a lie. Despite the weird competitiveness from my br
other, it had been a really good day.
Zach smiled. “I’ve enjoyed it too.”
I sniffed his shirt again, not even pretending that I wasn’t. “I’m soaking it up before I have to leave. That’s one of the best smells ever.”
In one swift motion, Zach yanked off his shirt. “Here. Take it with you.”
Blinking, I stared at the shirt in his hand. “Go home, Zach. You’re drunk.”
“I am home, and you know I’m not drunk. Why do you look so shocked?”
“I expected that maybe you’d send home leftovers . . . not rip your shirt off.”
He rested his hands on the doorframe and leaned toward me. “There’s lots of brisket left over. Come back any day, and you can have some.”
I didn’t know what to do with this version of Zach. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him until I couldn’t breathe. But I wasn’t sure that was an option.
I seriously needed to sort out my thoughts. “What happened to Hank?” I reached for the shirt. I did love the smell of brisket.
Zach chewed his bottom lip a second. “We talked, and he’s upset with me. That’s why he didn’t stay.”
In all the years they’d been friends, fights and arguments between them were almost unheard of.
“What’s going on?” I needed a bit of clarity.
“He says I’m being reckless. And maybe I am.”
“What are you talking about?”
Zach leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. As much as I wanted to return the kiss, shock rendered me motionless. Thoughts were like a slurry in my brain—mixed up and slow.
He stepped back, and his shoulders slumped. He folded his arms over that bare chest. “Sorry. I thought—Did I misread you?”
“Oh no. Your reading skills are exceptional. I just thought—I thought I’d been writing in invisible ink. I gotta go.” I’d spent too many years squashing my attraction to this guy. I didn’t know what to do. “I have to think.” I hugged the shirt to my chest and turned to go.
Zach clasped my arm. “Haley.” Confusion, amusement, and something else swirled in his green eyes.
And that something else turned my brain to mush. Every dream I’d ever had about kissing him thundered in my head.
I launched at him, flung my arms around his neck, and snagged his lips with mine. Chuckling, he pulled me off my feet, and I snaked my legs around his waist. He put his hands on—never mind where. Suffice it to say, he was the only thing keeping my backside from hitting the ground.
I pulled back far enough to speak. “Zach.”
He pressed back in for another kiss. “Mmm?”
“Don’t drop me.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest, and he spun me around. With my back pressed to the wall, his hands moved up to my waist. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
All the little tugs on my curls, all the leans, and the teasing—he’d been flirting. Thanksgiving had flipped everything upside down.
As I toyed with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, he brushed his lower lip across mine before pressing in again. After several minutes, we came up for air.
“Now we’re talking.” He grinned as he eased me back down to the floor.
Clarity of thought wasn’t possible anywhere near Zach Gallagher, especially when he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I picked up the smoke-infused shirt which had fallen to the floor mid-kiss. “No, we aren’t talking. I’m not ready for that. But that kiss will help me think.” I spun toward the door and inhaled before pushing it open.
Behind me, Zach tugged at the end of a curl. “If you want more brisket, you know where to come.”
I couldn’t resist a quick look. “Brisket?”
He blew me a kiss. “I’ll be here when you want to talk or if you need more help thinking.”
I nodded then ran to the driveway. I’d ridden with Hank, and he was gone. Why couldn’t I have remembered that earlier?
Zach laughed. “I’ll grab my keys.”
So much for my grand exit.
Chapter 21
Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen. If this was how Hank displayed his anger, this wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Good morning.” I filled my favorite mug with the perfect blend of coffee, cream, and sugar. “What smells so good?”
“My breakfast.” He shoveled some sort of scramble onto a plate.
If he was going to make yummy food and not share, I might have to find a new place to live.
“Help yourself. There’s plenty.” He handed me the spoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring any brisket home. I tore through the fridge this morning, looking for some.”
“Zach said to come over whenever if we want some.”
At the mention of Zach’s name, Hank inhaled sharply. “I thought—you know what—never mind. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. I’m not going to get in the middle of it.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m really disappointed . . . in Zach. You’ve been after him, chasing him since day one.” Hank refilled his mug.
Coffee splashed as I set my cup on the counter. Biting my tongue and fighting tears, I grabbed my keys and stomped out of the house.
I wanted to talk to my best friend, but no way was I going to interrupt her honeymoon to vent. Not sure where to go, I called Nacha. “Hey. You busy?”
“What’s up?”
“Feel like grabbing something to eat?” I couldn’t exactly vent to Nacha about Hank. Or could I?
She knew Hank as well as I did. Maybe better.
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
“I need some advice about Hank. If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t back out.
Her keys jingled. “Tell me where to meet you.”
Twenty minutes later, we were seated in a booth, and over a massive stack of pancakes, I told Nacha all about Thanksgiving, Christmas, the wedding, and the barbeque.
She never interrupted.
Then I told her what Hank had said this morning and ended my story by taking another bite of my pancakes.
Nacha reached across the table and patted my hand. “You can move in with me. I have an extra bedroom.”
“That’s not really what this is about. He’s my brother. If I follow my heart, I’ll be tearing apart what little family I have left. I’m not sure I can do that.” I popped the last bite of bacon in my mouth, wishing I’d ordered extra.
She gave me a knowing smile. “I’m not suggesting you move in permanently, just while you think about it. You need to choose what’s best for you. Hank has trouble admitting when he’s wrong. Anyone who loves him knows that.”
While this was definitely not the time to bring it up, the phrase loves him made me think she still did. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? But as Zach said, that was their complicated puzzle to solve.
“But it’s not only my relationship with Hank that I’m worried about.” I pointed at Nacha’s last slice of bacon. “Are you going to eat that?”
“Have at it. Don’t be rash. If Zach is serious, he’ll wait.”
I nodded. “If I stay at your house, it’s too easy for Hank. If I’m going to turn Zach down, Hank will have to live with the aftermath.”
Her brow furrowed but she laughed. “He doesn’t handle tears well.”
“He’ll get a lot of practice.” I finished the last of my coffee. “Thanks for listening.”
“Please think about your decision. Give it a few days before talking to Zach.”
“I will.”
For days, Hank and I didn’t speak. The time I spent at home was mostly spent in my room. I shed more tears than I had in all the last year. The torturous silence would end if I simply told Zach it wouldn’t work.
But I hadn’t convinced myself to do that.
If Hank and I happened into the same room at the same time, I left. Life was easier when he went on shift. But when his shift was over, the strain returned.
&nb
sp; After work, I headed home, knowing Hank was off work. When I arrived at the house, it smelled like a Mexican restaurant.
“Dinner is ready. I made stuff for tacos. There are flour tortillas if you prefer soft and crispy corn shells if you like that better. And then on the stove, there’s taco meat in one pan and shredded chicken in the other.” Hank tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. “Want me to make you a plate?”
“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie, but I wasn’t going to eat right now.
Eve always accused me of equating food with love. Clearly, that idea ran in the family.
I trudged down the hall and closed myself in my room. It wasn’t just the choice I had to make that bothered me. My brother’s words still rattled around in my head and made me feel desperate and stupid.
A half hour later, the front door closed. I peeked through the blinds. Hank backed out of the driveway. Since he was gone, I wandered into the kitchen and helped myself to tacos.
Eventually we’d have to talk about it. Like adults. But first, we had to get past the battling-like-siblings stage.
I was stuffing the second taco in my mouth when Hank came home.
“Are we going to ignore each other, or do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I downed half my Topo Chico.
“Haley, don’t be stubborn.” The man wasn’t doing himself any favors. “Am I wrong? Tell me if I’m being an idiot.”
The invitation was too good to pass up. “You’re being an idiot.”
Hank flung his arms wide. “Do you even know why I’m mad?”
“No, actually. I have a general idea, but I don’t know specifics.” I rinsed my plate and put it in the dishwasher. “So please tell me.”
“I pulled Zach aside and told him that it looked as if he was flirting with you.” Hank dragged his fingers through his hair. “Do you know what he said to me?”
I shook my head.
“He said that he was and that he thought it was working. Can you believe that? He didn’t even ask my opinion.”
Struggling not to laugh, I opened the fridge, pretending to look for something. “Well, what was your opinion? Did you think it was working?”
“Fine. Laugh. I’m trying to be adult about this.”
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