Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

by Brenna Jacobs

  Ms. Emily took a deep breath. “No chopsticks for me?”

  Zoey glanced at Harry, her expression slightly panicked, but Nana quickly put them all at ease. “I’m kidding,” she said. “I’m not that ambitious.” She looked at Harry and picked up her fork. “I’m going to make a mess, Harry. I’m just warning you now.”

  Harry smiled. “It’s a shame Oliver isn’t here. He’d probably make a contest out of it.”

  Ms. Emily rolled her eyes. “Ha. He might be the only one that could beat me.”

  Dinner went by fast, punctuated by multiple long looks shared with Zoey across the table and enough laughing to reiterate Harry’s belief that he’d actually met the perfect woman.

  After dessert—some sort of chocolate sushi thing that was maybe the best dessert Harry had ever tried—they moved to the living room and watched recorded episodes of Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, Zoey sitting next to him on the couch, until Ms. Emily started to fall asleep in her chair.

  Zoey reached out and put a hand on his knee. “I’m going to help Nana get to bed.”

  “Oh.” Harry nodded. “Should I . . . go?” Please say no.

  Zoey shook her head, making him smile. “It’ll only take a half-hour or so. Can you wait for me?”

  Harry grinned. “Absolutely.”

  Before Zoey could help Ms. Emily out of her chair, Harry stood up and leaned down to give the older woman a hug, kissing her softly on the cheek.

  “That better not be the only kissing that happens tonight,” Ms. Emily said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Nana!” Zoey said, but Harry only laughed.

  “What? You think I don’t see the way you two have been looking at each other? I was worried you might not wait for me to go to bed.”

  Zoey pushed her forehead into her palm. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “It’s like being in high school all over again,” Harry said. “Except maybe worse.” He met Zoey’s eye and she smiled.

  “Definitely worse.”

  Harry settled back onto the couch and pulled out his phone to check on his kids while he waited. His mom assured him everything was fine; the kids were settled, and he was welcome to stay out as long as he wanted. He glanced over and caught sight of Mr. Brown Bear, sitting in the corner of the armchair next to him. He reached over and grabbed it, not wanting to forget it when he finally left, then turned back to his phone, the bear tucked onto his lap.

  “Did you get lonely without me?” Zoey asked, moving back into the room twenty minutes later.

  Harry looked down at the bear and smiled. “I did. This guy’s a poor substitute though. His jokes aren’t funny at all.”

  Zoey plopped onto the cushion next to him and propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, her chin resting on her fist. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. He tells me the best stories when you aren’t around.”

  Harry lifted up the bear and frowned. “Whatever happened to family loyalty, huh?”

  Zoey laughed, a sound he would love to hear again and again. “First the kids, now Mr. Brown Bear. You better watch out. I’m going to make everyone in your family convinced they can’t live without me and then where will you be?”

  Harry stilled, leveling her a look that he hoped wasn’t too serious. “Doesn’t sound like such a bad deal if you ask me.”

  She scrunched her nose as if to disagree. “I don’t know, Harry. There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I can think of ten things right off the top of my head that might make you change your mind.”

  The gleam in her eye made Harry think her ten things might make him like her more. “Try me.”

  “What? All ten things on the first date? What kind of a strategist would I be if I gave you all my secrets in one night? I mean, I have to at least get a few more free meals out of this deal.”

  “It’s all about the food with you, isn’t it?”

  She bit her bottom lip and smiled. “You just guessed secret number four.”

  “Lucky for you, I love food too. Cooking it, buying it, especially eating it.”

  “How often do you eat dessert?” Zoey asked as she stood from the couch. She walked across the room and opened a drawer on a small side table.

  “Is this a trick question?” Harry asked. He was all about dessert. But he also had an agent that frequently reminded him how important his physique was to his image on the show.

  “Not a trick question,” Zoey said. “Definitely a test question, though.” She held something behind her back, but Harry couldn’t see what it was.

  “When I’m hitting the gym like I’m supposed to be, or I’m in between seasons, I will always eat dessert. When I’m filming, and I’m not working out regularly, I’m a little more disciplined.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes.

  “That’s not fair!” Harry said playfully. “It’s in my contract.”

  “Seriously?! Dessert restrictions are in your contract?”

  Harry ran a hand through his hair, suddenly wishing he hadn’t brought it up. It was the thing he hated the most about his job. It was never just about remodeling houses. It was about remodeling houses while he was wearing just the right shirt to match the blue of his eyes and accentuate his biceps. “Not dessert. But . . .” He waved his hand down the length of his body.

  “Ohhhh,” Zoey said, almost gleeful. She danced back across the room. “So it’s the muscles that are in the contract.” She sat back down on the couch, dropping a deck of cards on the coffee table in front of them before wrapping both arms around his bicep. “I’ve got to admit. I think I support your contract.”

  This time, Harry rolled his eyes before shrugging out of her grip. He caught her hands in his. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? How do you feel about dessert?”

  “Can’t live without it,” Zoey answered, almost immediately. “And since I am genetically fortunate enough to have an incredibly fast metabolism, I don’t ever have to.”

  “That is fortunate.” He looked at the cards and raised his eyebrows. “What are the cards for?”

  “The cards have to do with the first thing on my list.”

  “Wait. Do you actually have a list?”

  She grinned. “No. But if I did, this would definitely be the thing on the top.”

  Harry narrowed his eyes. “You . . . like to gamble?”

  She shook her head.

  “You build card houses in your spare time.”

  She leaned her head against the couch and pretended to snore.

  “Fine. I cave. What’s the thing most likely to scare me away?”

  She opened the cards and pulled out the deck, shuffling them in her hands. “I am extremely competitive.”

  “That’s it? I think that’s a good thing.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Like, when I play Candyland with Hannah, it takes all of my willpower not to pout when she beats me and brag when I beat her. Like, I have to remind myself over and over that I’m an adult and she’s a kid and I know better.”

  “Over Candyland?” Harry said.

  “A game’s a game,” Zoey said. “I mean, I won’t behave badly over it. But I really like to win.”

  Harry looked back to the cards. So far, he’d been right. The stuff she thought might scare him off did make him like her more. “So we’re going to play a game?”

  Her lips lifted in a sly smile. “Only if you’re up for it.”

  A rush of energy pulsed through him. Oh, he was up for it. A thousand times yes, he was up for it.

  Chapter 7

  “So here’s how it’s going to go,” Zoey said. She scooted back on the couch so the cushion between them was bare. “The game is called Speed. It’s a little like double solitaire, except faster, and with fewer cards.”

  “Sounds fun,” Harry said. She looked up, happy to see that his facial expression matched the tone of his voice. It was an impulse decision to pull out a deck of Nana’s cards, but she was having too much fun bantering with Harry to do something as boring as watchi
ng a movie. She loved that he’d spar with her a little, toss jokes back at her as fast as she threw them to him. It was a side she hadn’t seen of him before and she liked it. Really liked it.

  She finished explaining the rules to Harry, walking him through a practice round until he’d grasped the rules.

  “Got it,” he said. “So we play until one of us gets rid of all of our cards?”

  “Yep. That’s the goal.” She hesitated. There was a way they could make the game more interesting. Zoey had long since learned that sometimes her playful side got her into trouble, but Harry had been giving her signs all night. She’d caught him staring at her lips more than once; he wanted to kiss her. She took a breath. Once she posed her next question, there was no going back. “Care to up the stakes a little?” She kept her tone teasing.

  Harry cocked his head to the side. “How so?”

  “The winner of each round gets to give the loser a kiss, but the kiss can’t be on the lips. Not until someone has won the entire game.”

  Harry grinned. “I like the way you play, Zoey Williamson.”

  Zoey took the first round without even having to try. She’d had lucky cards, but Harry was also slow. She was probably going to be giving lots of kisses before the night was over. That meant she needed to start slow. She reached for Harry’s hand and held it with hers, massaging the sides of his palm just slightly before raising it up and planting a chaste kiss on the pad of his thumb.

  Still, she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Round two,” he said, his voice slightly huskier than it had been before.

  Round two was another win for Zoey, and a kiss on the inside of Harry’s wrist. Round three Zoey won before Harry played a single card. For such a demoralizing loss, she graduated up to his cheek, lingering close to his face long enough to say, “You better not be losing on purpose.”

  “It’s my first time playing the game,” he argued. “And you’re crazy fast. It’s not a fair fight and you know it.”

  Zoey shrugged. “It’s just as much luck as it is skill.”

  Harry scoffed. “Says the girl who always wins.”

  Zoey only smiled, shuffling her dwindling cards one more time before laying out round four.

  “Ha!” Harry said a few minutes later when he finally won. “Take that!”

  He was proud enough of himself that Zoey didn’t even mind he’d ruined her clean sweep.

  Harry leaned forward and she froze, her heart jumping into her throat. He hovered over her, close enough for her to smell his aftershave, feel the tickle of his breath on her cheek. He lifted his hand and slowly slid her hair back away from her neck, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin.

  Zoey closed her eyes, goose flesh rising up and down her arms. Harry’s lips touched the corner of her jaw, just below her ear. Her breath caught. She wrapped her fingers around the hem of her shirt, knowing if she didn’t hold on to something else, she’d definitely start holding onto him. “I hope you didn’t lose on purpose,” he whispered, before settling back onto his side of the couch.

  Zoey finally opened her eyes. “I didn’t, but if you promise the next kiss will be that good, I will.”

  He grinned. “Nope. We’re playing fair and square or not at all.”

  It took six more rounds; four wins for Zoey, and two for Harry before Zoey was down to her final three cards—two aces and a king. Zoey watched, her muscles tense, as Harry flipped over card after card, none of them cards she could actually play on. Finally, Harry turned over a two and Zoey flew into action, laying down an ace, then a king, then her final ace of the game. Instead of throwing her hands up in the air in a customary shout of victory, Zoey stilled, her gaze locked on Harry. “I won,” she said, her voice subdued. She swallowed.

  Harry’s eyes shone with warmth. “Yes, you did.”

  Zoey shifted across the couch until she sat on her knees in front of him, her heart pounding, caring little for the cards she sent careening onto the floor. She lifted her hands to either side of his face, sliding them back to his hairline, then down to his shoulders. She leaned close, her lips hovering over his, but didn’t complete the kiss.

  “You’re doing this on purpose,” Harry said, laughter in his voice.

  “Don’t ruin my victory lap,” Zoey said. Finally, she closed the distance, pressing her lips to his. He awakened to the contact, his hands wrapping around her back. Zoey couldn’t get enough of the man in front of her—the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of his arms holding her to him.

  Harry groaned in a way that made Zoey’s blood heat before his hands slid up and into her hair. He turned his head just slightly, deepening the kiss. Zoey melted into his touch, but willed herself to breath, to keep herself grounded.

  When their lips finally parted, Zoey could feel the smile on Harry’s face. “Actually, I think I’m the winner,” he said.

  Zoey leaned forward and kissed him one more time. “I really like you, Harry Beckford.”

  Harry’s phone buzzed with an incoming text, vibrating against the coffee table where he’d placed it before their game. Harry didn’t reach for it, but Zoey sensed she’d lost a fraction of his attention.

  She motioned to the phone with her head. “Go ahead,” she said.

  His shoulders dropped in obvious relief. “Sorry. I need to make sure it isn’t anything about the kids.”

  Zoey smiled, shifting positions to give Harry room to check his phone. Still, she left her arm wrapped through his, her head leaning against his shoulder.

  “It is the kids. Mom says Oliver has a fever.”

  “Oh, no. Is he okay?”

  Harry stood up. “She says it’s really high. I think I need to go.”

  Zoey nodded. “Of course. Go!” Zoey followed him to the door, scooping up Mr. Brown Bear from the floor on her way. “Don’t forget this,” she said, offering the stuffed animal to Harry.

  He tucked it under his arm, then reached for Zoey, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her against him. “You know what? This is the best first date I’ve ever had.”

  A zing of energy pulsed through Zoey. “Me too.” She leaned up on her toes and kissed him one more time, her hand lingering on the curve of his jaw. “Will you text me and let me know how Oliver’s doing? I don’t care how late it is.”

  “For sure.”

  “And if Hannah needs to come hang out with me and Nana tomorrow, she’s welcome.”

  Harry shook his head. “I don’t want you to have to work on a Sunday, Zoe.”

  “I wouldn’t be working. I’d be helping out a . . . friend.” She bit her lip. It was too soon to call him a boyfriend, but it wasn’t hard to imagine herself saying the word.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her again. “And thanks again for tonight.”

  Zoe practically floated back to the living room. She dropped to the floor, picking up the scattered cards from her victory make-out session.

  Harrison Beckford was a very good kisser.

  Cards cleaned up, Zoey dropped onto the couch and relived their kisses like she was a high school sophomore, right down to the cheesy grin on her face. Her phone rang from the side table beside the couch and she reached for it. It couldn’t be Harry. He’d only just left, but a part of her wished it was all the same.

  Nana’s image filled the screen on Zoey’s phone, which made emotions of an entirely different sort swell inside her. “Nana?” she answered. “Are you okay?” Zoey was at her grandmother’s bedroom door before Nana had even had the chance to reply. Zoey pushed it open to see her grandmother propped up against her headboard, the small lamp by her bedside casting a warm circle of yellow light onto her pillow.

  Nana smiled when she saw Zoey and ended the call. “Well?” she said expectantly.

  Zoey rolled her eyes but smiled before climbing onto the bed beside her grandmother. “You about gave me a heart attack. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “What could happen to me while I’m in my bed? I wan
t you to tell me about your night with Harry.”

  Zoey sighed and leaned against the tufted headboard, not even sure where to begin.

  “That good, huh?” Nana said.

  Zoey chuckled. “Seriously. He might be perfect, Nana. He’s so nice. And funny. And so sweet to his kids, and let me tell you, I never thought about that being particularly sexy but seeing it in action? Um, yes. It’s maybe the hottest thing ever. He’s smart. Witty. And he jokes with me. I mean, I knew he was charming because I’ve watched his show, but in person, it’s so much more than that.”

  “And there’s physical attraction, too? Good chemistry?”

  Zoey grunted her response, a visceral reaction that sounded like a weird cross between a moan and the guttural noise of a motorcycle revving its engine. It even surprised Zoey and she laughed, her hand flying to her mouth.

  “Wow,” Nana said. “I guess I should say you’re welcome.”

  Zoey tilted her head to look Nana in the eye. “It makes me a little scared, you know? For it to feel this good.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Like it could be too good to be true.”

  Nana patted her hand. “Just take it one day at a time.”

  Zoey nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah. That’s good advice.”

  “Would you move out here for him? Permanently?”

  Zoey pondered the question. It was technically too soon to even think about it. They were one kiss in. Or, one night of kissing in. She couldn’t make such a huge decision based on that. But she’d be lying to herself if she pretended like she couldn’t envision a future for herself in California, a life with Harry and his kids.

  At the same time, if she got a call from Channel 4 News in Chicago offering her an anchor position, she’d take it without even pausing to think about it. She wasn’t sure what that meant about what her heart really wanted. Probably that her heart didn’t have a clue.

  “I don’t know,” she finally answered. “My life is in Chicago. My career. My family. I mean, except for you, of course. I’d always love being closer to you.”

  Nana squeezed her hand in understanding. Zoey’s family had long since given up on trying to convince Nana to move to Chicago to be closer to her family. She had always refused, insisting she’d never sacrifice a house that was paid for and a near perfect climate to be buried in snow half of the year. She was as much a Californian as Zoey was a Chicagoan.