by L. B. Dunbar
“I’m not insulted.” Clearly, she is, though, and I don’t know how to get out of this ditch I’ve dug.
“Then just come to the beach because you promised us a day together, and I’m not ready to give it up.” Once again, I find I’m not done with her. I’m not certain I’ll ever be finished, and it’s a dangerous thought as I only have a few days remaining here.
Her mouth falls open to say something, and then she clamps her lips shut. She doesn’t look pleased, and I’m definitely missing something, but she finally acquiesces after another glance at the boys in the tree fort. Without another word to me, she nudges her arm free of my grasp and enters the house, knowing I won’t follow her inside. I can’t bring myself to enter the place, and it’s her best defense to shut me out.
14
[River]
For the remainder of the day, I try to let it go. So, he didn’t love me. What did I expect? We’d only known each other a few days. We couldn’t fall in love that quickly. I’m not interested in falling in love with a man who won’t be sticking around after another week. I don’t need some declaration of commitment or profession of devotion, so I don’t know why I’m upset. Maybe, it’s the way he said it, like he was offended. Like of course, he couldn’t possibly consider falling in love with me.
By the time we’ve reached the beach, I’m more confused than ever, though. Zack is constantly touching me. Hand on my hip. Fingers in my hair. A tender kiss to my shoulder.
We dig in the sand with the boys and play in the waves. The boys eat snacks that I brought, and Zack is appreciative again. He has so much gratitude it’s getting on my nerves. Eventually, the boys want to leave the beach, and I need a break. Despite the fun, it’s been a long day.
After we pack things up and head toward the stairs, Zack hangs back while the boys climb ahead of us. “Have dinner with us.”
“Zack,” I groan.
“What? What happened? We were having such a good time.” He pauses on a step while I take two more before facing him. He glances over my shoulder at the boys, narrowing his eyes as if in thought. “You heard me earlier, didn’t you?” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it sounded wrong, but we just met. I have the boys and just—”
“I get it.” What I don’t get is why I’m still upset. It isn’t like I expected him to fall madly in love with me after a handful of days and a collection of kisses. This is why I couldn’t do one-night stands. What did I think a ten-day fling would turn into? A marriage proposal? Preposterous. Yet my heart still aches. For all the warnings that single parents shouldn’t get involved with others, I wonder briefly if anyone considers the other. The one who quickly falls in love with both children and father. What happens to her when her heart bursts with feelings for more than one Weller boy?
“The truth is, I don’t have time for love.”
I remain a few stairs above him, and my mouth falls open. Words tumble forward. “Then what do you want from me?”
In frustration, Zack turns away and swipes a hand through his hair—his signature upset move. I hate that I recognize this about him already. “I just want to fuck you.” The words are quiet and low while stated so direct and indifferent. He blows out a breath and sheepishly glances up at me before taking the stairs to close the distance between us.
To say my heart fell to my feet, felt stomped on, and then kicked off this staircase was an understatement. I’d never been so . . . shocked or hurt. There was no doubt we were attracted to one another—physically attracted—but this felt like a little bit more than just fucking one another. In fact, he was putting in a lot of effort to spend time with me, dragging his own boys into the mix, for a man who only wanted in my pants. Which he’d already been in, twice now.
“Shit, I told you I suck at this.” He reaches out for my arm, but I flinch away from his touch.
“That wasn’t flirtatious, Zack.”
“Let me redirect—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “This isn’t a courtroom. This is life. We’re not negotiating. To be clear, we’re having an argument. Also to be clear, you make time for love. You find it. You give it. You have a big fancy watch that dictates all the hours in a day.” I pause, chest heaving as if I’ve run miles. “If you don’t want it, then that’s a different story. If you don’t want love, then that’s your . . . prerogative.” I can hardly say the word. Then I remember that he’s already told me he doesn’t want anything more from me. He told me the night he arrived with a wine bottle in hand. He wanted one night, and I don’t understand how we’ve gotten to three or four plus afternoons with his boys.
My arms have flailed out to my sides in my tirade, and Zack just stares at me. Puffing out a breath, I turn to take another step, but Zack quickly overtakes me, stopping me with an outstretched arm to block my climb. He checks over his shoulder to find his boys, noting they’re taking their time ascending the stairs but aren’t looking back at us. Zack lowers his face to mine, coming in too close.
“That came out wrong. I want to be with you. There’s no doubt I want between your thighs and inside you, but let me be clear, it’s more than fucking you. I want to know who you are and why you’re so kind. I want to understand how my boys fell in love with you so fast and if I can get there too because I am falling. Definitely falling.” His hand cups my jaw, and his mouth possesses mine. The kiss is so powerful, I lean backward, tipping over the railing at my back. His fingers slip along my cheek, dipping into my hair. He fists a section at my nape and kisses me harder.
“I’ll make time for you.” He kisses me once more. “Have dinner with us at Anna’s tonight.”
I’m so stunned by the fierceness of his kiss and the determination in his tone, I nod to accept, having the fight kissed out of me.
Damn, he does not play fair.
+ + +
The meal passes in Anna’s dining room under a cacophony of grumbling kids and adult laughter. I drink too much. Somewhere during the night, I admit that I don’t have many female friends in the area outside the acquaintances I work with at the hospital and end up invited to Monday margaritas and manicures, a new tradition Autumn created once Anna moved permanently to Lakeside. I’m actually looking forward to some girl time.
Zack walks me home, but we don’t make it to my backyard before we’re making out like desperate teens against the side of my house. Frantic and rushed, I’m losing my mind over this man. His lips. His teeth. His fingertips. His hands roam my body like a raised topography map, memorizing hills and discovering valleys. He’s everywhere all at once. Forget flirting, this man can kiss. He’s no longer holding back but ravishing me.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” he mutters against my mouth, hanging on to our earlier disagreement. “Ever.”
“It’s going to happen.” Love isn’t without fighting. Sometimes against it. Sometimes for it.
“As long as we make up.” His mouth moves to my jaw and down my neck. His hands continue to wander. “Always make up.”
“Compromise,” I mutter before I nip his earlobe.
“Negotiate,” he moans near mine. My skirt lifts, and his eager fingers find I’m not wearing underwear. He sucks in a breath. “You didn’t.”
“All night,” I tease. Actually, I slipped my underwear off before he walked me home.
“Angel,” he growls, slipping two fingers into me. The heel of his hand rubs at my clit. His hips thrust forward, forcing the heel harder against me. My fingers fumble with his shorts, but he swats mine away, catching my wrist firmly in his hand and lifting it above my head. “Tonight is only for you. Get lost in me.”
He has no idea what he’s saying. I don’t know what to think of him or his boys or what we’re doing, but for now, I take his mouth and feel his fingers. He pleasures me like no one ever has. I’m gasping for air and swallowing his scent when the orgasm rips through me so intensely my knees buckle. The house holds me upright because Zack doesn’t relent. Dropping to his knees, he attacks with his mouth nex
t. His tongue delves, and his lips suck. He’s marking me so I’ll never forget him.
“Come,” he demands between my thighs, and I sway against his mouth until I break once more. Silvery stars prickle my sight in the darkness. My breath rasps in heavy gulps as Zack stands and crashes his mouth against mine again. Breathless and weak, it’s too much, too fast, and I’m spiraling. The next thing I know, Zack has me in his arms and carries me to the lounger where we lay beside each other, mirroring one another. His fingers brush back my hair as I stare at him until I can catch my breath.
“I owe you some explanations,” he finally says.
“Zack,” I tenderly groan. “You don’t owe me. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”
“I do.”
“Orgasms for information?” I tweak a brow. “You’re terrible as a negotiator. I should have given one to you, if I wanted knowledge.”
“I like your way of thinking, but this is different.” His eyes glance from one to the other of mine, shifting back and forth before speaking. “I want to tell you. I’m just . . . I’m worried about what you’ll think when I’m finished.”
“I would never judge you.” I know all about being unfairly accused of something. I’d never do it to him, but curiosity at what he could possibly tell me grows.
Taking a deep breath, he begins. “My father was in prison.” Zack closes his eyes. Shame washes over him. “He was an accountant and embezzled more than a million dollars from the company he worked for.”
Reaching for his face, I tenderly stroke his jaw, allowing the prickle of his scruff to scrape my palm. His eyes open.
“He was sentenced to twenty years.” Zack exhales. “As you know, my mother and Anna’s mother were lifelong best friends. My parents were from Chicago like Anna’s family but moved here around the time my brother was born. My father had been offered a job he felt he couldn’t refuse. Unfortunately, they lived above their means. He’d fallen into debt and started slowly taking money from the company he worked for. We later learned he had a gambling problem.”
My fingertips rub along his jaw, encouraging him to tell me more.
“I’m not making any excuses for him. There are none,” he bitterly states. “We could have moved. We could have sold our home and lived more within his income. He should have gotten help. My mother defended him. She blamed herself. So did he.” He frowns. “He felt he needed to keep up with Anna’s parents. Her father made his money in the sausage industry, and when they bought the house next door as a second home, my father wanted to prove himself. He always wanted more, more, more. A bigger house. A better car. More money. When he was arrested, we were actually broke. He’d gambled away what he’d embezzled.”
“I’m so sorry, honey,” I whisper. He shakes his head free of my hand by rolling to his back. My chest squeezes. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and protect him from his memories, but he’s lost in his head and doesn’t want my touch.
He faces the dark sky and swipes a hand into his hair. “He wasn’t a terrible dad. He was a great dad actually.” His voice lifts in surprise as if he’s just now discovering this about his father. “We were just a normal family. Roof over our head. Food in our fridge. I didn’t see any signs of trouble. My father was a dreamer. A schemer,” he adds softer. “He was always talking about the next thing, a better thing. House. Car. Job.”
Zack pauses, eyes upward, but I doubt he’s concentrating on any one star.
“The police came to the house and arrested him right in front of my older brother and me. I was fifteen, and Noah was eighteen. My mother cried for days.” He blinks. “We were such spoiled punks, and I was angry. So angry. Noah left. Dad used his college fund, but Noah found a way on his own. He left me behind to face my friends, the neighbors, my teachers, and deal with our mother. Everyone knew our story. We moved into Anna’s home, the house next door, for months. My mother had never worked a day in her life. Anna’s dad gave my mom a loan, which I didn’t learn about until years later. I paid back every cent.”
Zack turns his head to face me again. “Robert . . . that’s my father’s name . . . was released from prison shortly before I met Jeanine at a conference.” With a shaky breath, he adds, “God forgive me, but sometimes I think those boys are my penance. I turned my back on my dad, and I was given twins to torment me as a father.”
“You know it doesn’t work that way,” I say, keeping my voice quiet. I don’t like how he’s spoken about the boys as punishment and know he doesn’t mean it. He’s hurting, and I reach for his hand instead of his face, needing to touch him in some manner. He curls his fingers around mine, holding on tight like he did that first night.
“I know,” he whispers. “I know.”
“Did you ever see your dad again?”
Zack shakes his head. “Somehow, he found me after his release. I was a successful lawyer. I’d married Jeanine. We had the boys. He wanted to reconnect. I didn’t want him anywhere near my children. I assumed he wanted money. He’d been a gold seeker his entire life. He loved money more than his family.”
Zack snorts, still lost in thought. “Twenty years.” He blows out a breath. “I didn’t know him anymore. He wasn’t the man I remembered, and I wouldn’t have recognized him if he hadn’t come to me.”
He blows out another breath. “He divorced my mother during his incarceration. She would have waited for him if he hadn’t. She would have taken him back had he not done her the favor of letting her go. The divorce was the final blow. She wanted a new life. One as far from here as she could get. She moved to Arizona.”
People change, but I knew he didn’t want to hear it. Perhaps his father had turned over a new leaf. Maybe he really did want to reconnect with his son. Maybe he did want money and could pay it back this time. None of it seems to matter, as Zack has no sympathy for his father. The bitterness in his tone speaks of the hurt and harm Robert caused his family.
“Where did he go? After he saw you that one time?”
“I have no idea, and I don’t care.” His harsh tone doesn’t surprise me. His anger does.
“You’ve never tried to find him or contact him?” I question.
“For what purpose? So he can try to harass me into giving him money? He took everything from us. We lost this house, our pride, everything.” His rising tone echoes in the quiet night, and he sits upright, bending a knee and lowering his other foot to the grass. He swipes a hand through his hair once again. Slowly, I sit up beside him and press a kiss to his shoulder before leaning my chin on the muscular curve.
“You need to forgive him. If not for him, for yourself. Maybe forgiving him will allow you to have a . . . better relationship with your boys. Allowing you to give them what you want to give them.”
Forgiveness is the best medicine for a broken heart, Grandfather would say. I don’t think Zack is interested in swallowing that pill, but forgiveness is part of healing, and Zack needs to heal. Zack needs to forgive his father, and maybe he’ll get over the hurdle he has at being a dad. He doesn’t have to understand his father’s motives, although he has some version of them. He needs to let go of the hurt, which is easier said than done. Forgiveness was the only way I could let go of a man I’d never known, who hadn’t stepped up to be a father. Then again, I had a better deal, and cure-all, in my grandfather.
Zack huffs, clearly upset at my suggestion, so I add, “I’m sorry all that happened to you.” Then I back off from dispensing advice.
“It’s the reason I could never abandon the boys.”
“Would you have walked away from them to get away from Jeanine?”
“Never,” he hisses, glancing over his shoulder at me. Everything in that word tells me it had never been a thought. “If she wanted a divorce, she’d have to ask me. I didn’t want to ever feel like I’d given up on my family.”
He would have remained in a loveless marriage instead of losing his children. This redeems him somehow, but I can’t process that yet.
“But you eventually did ask her for a divorce,” I softly state as clarification.
“She was on her second affair. A man can only take so much, and the boys were suffering. They needed a mother.”
“They need their dad, too,” I remind him although perhaps now isn’t the time to mention it. I had a strong sense of Zack burying himself in work to avoid his wife but without realizing he was neglecting his children.
“That’s why I have them.” He had custody of them but was he involved with them? Were they his center or an axis that tipped him to the edge but never fully pushed him over?
Zack sighs. “I shouldn’t have told you all this. Now, you’re going to judge me.”
“Why would I judge you?” My forehead furrows.
“My father stole money. He was a crook, a thief.”
“Your father’s sins were not yours.” I didn’t even need to quote my grandfather to come up with that statement.
“It’s embarrassing as fuck,” Zack huffs.
“He abandoned you,” I remind him, understanding his position. But I’m also about absolution. If Quincy’s children had listened to him, if they’d allowed him to ask for forgiveness, things might have turned out differently for all of them. If Zack could offer forgiveness to his father, he might feel differently about his own position as one.
“He abandoned all of us,” he harshly states again and stands from the lounger, giving me his back as his hands slip into his pockets. “I’m going to go.”
“Don’t leave like this,” I softly plea, and he cranes his neck enough to look at me over his shoulder.
“We aren’t arguing,” he tells me as if I need the clarification. Of course, we aren’t fighting, but a wall has come up around Zack. His defensive tone, along with his body’s position, tells me he’s trying to avoid fight mode and opting for flight instead.
“We aren’t arguing,” I confirm. “But you’re angry, and I don’t want you walking away upset. Just let me hold you.”
