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

by Brenna Jacobs

  “But with Harry, you could have a family. Kids of your own.”

  A worry wormed into the back of Zoey’s mind. It didn’t have to be just one or the other, did it? A career, or a family? Zoey’s mom had never had a career outside the home. She’d raised her kids, then mothered her adult children from afar until Zoey’s brother, Nathan, had gotten married and had a set of twins. He and his wife were both teachers and as soon as the babies were born, Mom had practically begged Nathan to let her keep the kids during the day. She’d been a good example for Zoey and had always been encouraging in her own way. But Zoey couldn’t help but feel like her mother didn’t actually think her life would start until she was married and having kids. Her career was just a placeholder, a thing to do until she’d met the right man.

  In a lot of ways, the unspoken pressure had pushed Zoey the opposite direction, making her fight even harder to build her career. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and she would prove it.

  But in her heart, she did want to be married. To have kids someday.

  Surely there was a way she could have both.

  She sat up and squeezed Nana’s hand. “Maybe you’re all the California family I really need.”

  Nana scoffed. “The sound you made a minute ago leads me to think you need a lot more than an old woman to keep you company.” She raised her eyebrows playfully and gave Zoey a knowing grin.

  “Nana, you’re terrible.”

  “I’m old, Zoey. Not dead.”

  Zoey’s phone dinged with an incoming message when she was brushing her teeth to get ready for bed. Sure it was from Harry, anticipation filled her as she finished up, grabbing the phone and climbing into bed before she opened the text.

  It was a picture of Harry in his bed, a sleeping Oliver up against his chest. The light was dim, but Zoey could still see the pink tinge to Oliver’s cheeks and see the damp curls clinging to his forehead. The picture only showed the bottom half of Harry’s face, but it nicely accentuated the shape of his shoulder and arm as it cradled his son.

  “Oh, my freaking heart,” Zoey said out loud. The caption read, Fever broke and he’s sleeping with me for the night. Long live acetaminophen.

  Jealous, Zoey typed out. But no. Now was not the time for flirting. The man had a sick kid in his arms. Zoey deleted the word to try again. I’m so glad, she wrote. I love his little face. There. Totally appropriate.

  I had a good time tonight, his next message read.

  Zoey couldn’t stop smiling. Me too.

  I might have to find a reason to see you before Monday morning.

  Monday morning is only thirty-six hours away. And you have a sick kid.

  Both true statements. Still doesn’t change the way I feel. He followed the message with a winking smiley face. Before she could respond, one more message popped up. Good night, Zoey. Sleep well.

  Zoey dropped her phone onto her chest and closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t happening. She could almost squeal for how surreal it all felt. Steadying her hands, she picked up her phone and texted him back. Good night, Harry. Feeling slightly bold, she followed her message with an intentional, purpose-filled bright red heart.

  Chapter 8

  Harry pushed himself up from the breakfast table and grabbed his plate, carrying it to the sink where he rinsed it off and loaded it into the dishwasher. He moved back to the table and kissed each of his kids, then wrapped his arms around Zoey’s waist from behind and rested his chin on her head. Hannah watched him the entire time; she smiled when he caught her eye before looking back to her pancakes.

  Zoey leaned into him, turning her head slightly. “I wish you didn’t have to work today,” she said.

  “Me too.”

  She swiveled in his arms until they stood face to face. It had only been a few weeks since they’d started dating, but seeing her in his house, with his kids, every single day had brought a familiarity to their relationship much faster than he guessed would have happened had he just been taking her out on a date every once in a while.

  “So we’re meeting back at Nana’s this afternoon, right?”

  Harry nodded. “I’ll be there by four. I’ve got to go by Charlotte’s house to finish up the tile in her shower, but Tyson already did most of the install, so it shouldn’t take me long.”

  “Tyson? From your show, Tyson?” Zoey asked.

  Harry nodded. “Yeah. He does great tile work.”

  Zoey wrinkled her brow. “I think a part of me thought the work you guys do on TV is all staged. Like you bring in tradesmen to do the actual work, and then the pretty faces get to pretend they were the ones that did it for the camera.”

  “I’m going to try hard not to be insulted by your assumptions.”

  Zoey grinned. “I never thought you were faking. You seem like the real deal. Plus, I’ve seen your truck and your tools and this house, which I know you built all by yourself. But Tyson is just so pretty. He seems like he ought to be modeling underwear instead of installing tile.”

  Harry chuckled. “I’ll be sure and tell him you said so.”

  Zoey swatted him on the chest. “You will not.”

  “Everybody on the show knows what they’re doing and could absolutely do the entire job if they had to. What viewers don’t see is that it’s never just the pretty face that’s doing all the work. We complete projects way too fast to get it done with only the people you see on screen. There’s probably two dozen people that are also on the crew, working in the background around the clock so that we stay on schedule.” It was that crew that made it possible for Harry to have such a flexible schedule, so he’d never stop singing their praises. He was lucky. The network could have said no when he’d demanded after his divorce that he have regular work hours and evenings with his kids. Had he not built up such a reliable crew of skilled craftsmen, they might not have been so willing.

  “So Tyson’s pretty face does have something to do with why he’s the one on camera and not just working behind the scenes.”

  Harry shrugged. He’d stand by Tyson’s work any day, but Zoey wasn’t wrong. “America does love a pretty face.”

  Zoey’s hands slipped up his arms. “We already know your biceps are a part of your contract, so I guess that isn’t surprising.”

  Harry closed his eyes briefly, loving the feel of Zoey’s fingers grazing against his skin. Everything still felt so new, he almost couldn’t believe she was real. That she liked him. Liked his kids.

  “You’re making leaving really hard,” he whispered.

  She grinned. “That’s the goal.”

  “Kiss her goodbye, Daddy!” Hannah called from the kitchen table.

  Harry looked back to Zoey, motioning with his head toward Hannah. “I think she’s your second-biggest fan.”

  Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Second-biggest?”

  Harry leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Nobody likes you more than I do.”

  Later, Harry leaned against the kitchen counter at Charlotte’s, drinking a cup of coffee while she rolled out cinnamon roll dough on the counter. He hadn’t seen much of his sister since Zoey had started staying with his kids and he missed talking to her.

  “So I guess things with Zoey are still going well?” she said. “You never did tell me if she accepted your apology that night you dragged me out of bed so you could go see her.”

  Harry stilled, suddenly realizing that he’d never told Charlotte he and Zoey had started dating. He ran a hand through his hair. How had he failed to mention it? It had been so late when he’d returned home that night that Charlotte had quickly left to get back to her own family before they’d really even talked. Then he’d just been . . . busy.

  “Oh. Um, yeah. She accepted my apology. Things are good.”

  “Good.” Charlotte pulled the brown sugar out of the cabinet.

  The fact that she didn’t say anything more almost worried Harry. Charlotte had been badgering him about Zoey since he’d first mentioned Emily’s desire that he date h
er granddaughter. Char had jumped on board immediately, having long since decided it was time for him to start dating again. But now she wasn’t even going to ask a follow-up question? Ask if he liked her? Something was up.

  Harry glanced at his watch. He didn’t have time to wait for the rolls to be done, not if he wanted to make it to Emily’s in time to meet Zoey and the kids. But Charlotte’s rolls might be worth making a second trip. Especially if he couldn’t get her to talk this time around.

  Charlotte sprinkled the sugar over the melted butter that covered the dough, a weariness in her movements that Harry hadn’t noticed before.

  “Hey, Char, you okay?”

  She looked up. “What? Yeah.”

  “You look a little tense. And tired.”

  She scoffed. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “And you haven’t asked a single question about me and Zoey. We’re dating. And I really like her.”

  She turned to face him, wiping her sugar-covered fingers on a dish towel she pulled from the counter. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  “It is great. She’s great. But what’s up with you?”

  Tears welled up in Charlotte’s eyes and she shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I haven’t told Brian yet, and he deserves to know first.”

  Harry folded his arms across his chest. “Charlotte. I won’t tell him. You obviously need to talk about it. What’s going on?”

  She huffed and dropped the dish towel onto the counter then covered her face with her hands. Finally she crossed her arms and took a deep breath, meeting Harry’s eye. “I’m pregnant.”

  Harry’s eyes went wide. “What? I thought you—”

  “Had my tubes tied? Yeah. I did. And Brian had a vasectomy. I’m a walking statistic.”

  “Wow.” If there was anyone in the world that could handle another baby, it was Charlotte. And Brian, too. They were great parents. But five kids? That sounded like a level of crazy Harry couldn’t even imagine. “Five kids is a lot.”

  Charlotte whimpered. “I don’t think I can do it, Harry. I’m so tired. This might kill me.”

  Harry moved across the kitchen and pulled his sister into a hug. “You could consider yourself a walking statistic, but you could also consider yourself a walking miracle. It’s actually kind of amazing, isn’t it? And maybe it’ll be a little girl.”

  Charlotte sniffed and leaned into him. “A girl might be nice.”

  He rubbed his hands up and down her back. “You’re going to be amazing. And you’ll have lots of people to help. Brian, Mom and Neil, and now that I’m not such a mess, I can help too.”

  “I know. Logically, I know all of that. I’m just scared.”

  Harry reached around the counter and pulled a bar stool over to where Charlotte stood. “Here.” He nudged the stool forward. “Sit. I’ll finish the cinnamon rolls.”

  “Do you even know how?”

  “I’m very good at following instructions. And it looks like you did the hardest part.”

  Charlotte walked him through the last few steps of rolling and cutting the dough. As he filled the greased sheet pans sitting behind him, Charlotte leaned her back against the counter, her hands resting in her lap.

  “So you think Zoey will stick around then?”

  Harry glanced up. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she lives in Chicago, right? She wasn’t planning to stay here permanently.”

  “No, but, she has family here, and she seems to like it. I don’t think it would be all that hard for her to transition.”

  “You haven’t talked about it though?”

  They hadn’t talked about it. They’d inched around the subject a few times, but Harry got the sense Zoey didn’t want to. It made him a little nervous, but things were so good between them. He didn’t want to risk messing things up by demanding they talk about their future too soon. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re just having fun. Getting to know each other.”

  “Do the kids know?”

  Harry moved the last roll to the pan. “What’s with the inquisition? Yes, the kids know. It’s kind of hard to hide it because Zoey and I are almost never together when the kids aren’t there. Our schedules don’t really allow for traditional dating.”

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound critical. Just consider this a gentle reminder. The divorce was hard on Hannah. She’s with Zoey all day, and now she’s seeing you and Zoey together. You guys might just be getting to know each other, but Hannah’s probably already thinking Zoey’s going to be her new mommy.”

  “That’s not what Hannah thinks,” Harry said, even as the expression he’d seen on Hannah’s face just that morning flashed into his mind.

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte asked emphatically.

  Harry didn’t answer. Hannah did love Zoey. She talked about her all the time when they weren’t all together. But surely she understood—except, why would she understand? Hannah was only five. He couldn’t expect her to understand the nuances of adult dating.

  “I’m just saying. You probably ought to make sure your kids remember that Zoey’s only staying for the summer. Then if she does go back to Chicago, she isn’t breaking their hearts as well as yours.”

  Harry took a deep breath. “That’s good advice.”

  “Also maybe tell Zoey she can’t break your heart, okay? At least not until after this baby is born. It’s my turn to be the needy one for a change. I won’t be able to survive this without your help.”

  He wanted to think dating Zoey wouldn’t end in a broken heart, even if she did end up leaving. He wasn’t that invested. She could go back to Chicago at the end of the summer and they could part knowing they’d had a good time together and that was that. But even as he thought the words, he knew they weren’t true. Zoey wasn’t the kind of woman you only casually dated. She was the real deal. If they kept this up, he would fall for her. The thought was exhilarating, but it was also terrifying. He’d been crushed when Samantha had left him; he wasn’t sure he could handle that kind of rejection again.

  Chapter 9

  Zoey pulled Harry’s SUV into the parking lot and surveyed the park scene in front of her.

  “I see Carlie!” Hannah said from the back seat behind her. “And Rowan!”

  “Let’s hurry then,” Zoey said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Can you help Oliver with his buckles?”

  With a bag of snacks and another bag of toys and a spare change of clothes for Oliver—that kid was notorious for falling into mud puddles—strapped over her shoulder, Zoey led the children into the playground area. Hannah immediately darted off to find her friends. Zoey deposited all her gear at an empty bench in what she hoped to be neutral territory, then settled Oliver into the nearby sandbox with his dump truck and a shovel.

  “Zoey!” one of the moms called as soon as she’d approached her empty bench. “There’s room over here.”

  It would be rude to turn them down, wouldn’t it? Zoey thought about faking a phone call but didn’t think she was enough of an actress to pull it off. Besides, these were nice women. How bad could it truly be? Zoey grabbed her things and moved to the cluster of benches a half-dozen moms occupied. She was actually a little closer to Oliver from her new seat; at least that was a good thing.

  “We’ve missed you the past few weeks,” one mom said. Rebecca, maybe? Or was it just Becca?

  “Oh. Thanks. Oliver was sick one week, and then I think we skipped because of the rain the week after that.” It had been raining, Zoey remembered. Briefly. But Harry had finished shooting early that day and he’d surprised them just after lunch. They’d ended up spending the afternoon together. She’d take that over a semi-formal playdate any day.

  “How have you been?” another woman with red hair asked. Zoey couldn’t even pretend to remember her name. “How’s the job?”

  “Great. I’m enjoying the kids,
” Zoey answered.

  “I’m sure the kids are so sweet. But how much do you see of their dad?”

  “Rebecca, stop,” the redhead said. “You’re being nosy.”

  Zoey made a mental note. Rebecca.

  “Oh, come on, Ashley,” Rebecca said. “You know you’re all dying to ask.” She looked back to Zoey. “Is he as gorgeous in person as he is on television?”

  “Um, haven’t you all met him before? He’s never brought the kids to Park Play?”

  “Never,” Ashley said. “His sister brought them for a little while, but Harrison himself? He’s pretty elusive.”

  “Do you know if he’s dating anyone?” Rebecca asked.

  “Oh my gosh,” Ashley said. “Seriously? You’ve been divorced five minutes and you’re hitting up Harrison Beckford’s nanny for inside information?”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I’m just curious. He’s also divorced, you might recall. I’m wondering if he’s ready to start dating again.”

  Zoey just smiled. Maybe they didn’t actually expect her to respond. They seemed pretty content talking about Harrison without any of her input.

  “So?” Rebecca said, her attention back on Zoey. “Anything you can share?”

  Zoey sighed. So much for that theory.

  There was no way she was admitting to women she hardly knew that Harrison was dating someone and that the someone was her. They hadn’t told anyone yet, outside of family, and while they hadn’t talked about specifics, Zoey imagined the rules were different for someone like Harrison. Going public with a relationship was a decision. Almost an event. Particularly with him so fresh off of a divorce.

  “I don’t think it’s my place to talk about Harrison’s personal life.”

  “She told us that last time, didn’t she?” Ashley said. She looked Zoey right in the eye. “I promise we aren’t going to bully you into talking.”