Zach glanced over at Jenna and caught her eye roll.
“Yeah,” he said, tugging off his gloves and heading over to Jenna, totally ignoring Kimi. With a cute little frown and a low huff, she finally took the hint and started cleaning up the equipment.
“Better than yoga, right?” Zach asked, holding the punching bag for her.
“Yoga is all about slow, deliberate movements, balance, strength, breath. It’s sensual and calming. Kickboxing seems mostly about violence. And sweat. So much sweat.” While Zach looked super yummy dripping with sweat, Jenna had no doubt that her face was blotchy red, her hair was a frizzy mess, and she smelled like an old sneaker. Not to mention, she hated boob sweat, and there was a lot of that.
“Exactly why we’re doing this instead of yoga. You need to work out your anger.”
“What anger?”
“The anger that comes with the second stage of grief.”
“I’m not grieving.”
“Getting over a breakup has the same neurological stress markers and recovery process as dealing with a death,” he said matter-of-factly. “The first stage is denial and isolation. The second is anger.”
“What’s the third? Homicide?”
“Punch,” he insisted. “It’s good for you.”
“Denial and isolation sound pretty good to me. Can’t we stick with those a while longer? And since when did you become an expert on grief? I thought you said you didn’t people very well.”
“I researched it last night,” he said. “Now keep punching.”
“Research?” Jenna swung at the bag, landing a light right hook that didn’t resemble anything Kimi had taught them during the first half of the lesson.
He shrugged. “When trying to solve a problem, the best place to start is with data.”
“And that works for you?”
“My business is all about data and research.”
“And with the ladies?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? And you’re dressed, on your feet, and not wallowing on the sofa covered in Doritos dust.”
He had a point. If Zach hadn’t offered to stay and hang out with her today, Jenna would be exactly where he predicted, although her drug of choice would have seen her wallowing on the sofa with a faceful of melted chocolate. The good stuff, too.
Zach moved away. “Let’s try something else.” He picked up two big pads that slipped over his hands. He held them up. “Punch these. But maybe don’t try the kicks. I’m not wearing a cup.”
Jenna’s gaze dropped to the front of his pants before she could stop it. She immediately jerked back to his face, but it was too late.
He grinned at her, and she was caught. “Sorry.” She punched hard with her right then left to make up for her bad behavior.
“That’s better,” he said. “Put more of your weight behind it.”
“I have another client,” Kimi said. She sipped from her water bottle, dribbling a little down her chin and onto her boobs. “Oops.” She gave Zach one last long look. “Call me if you want to schedule a private session.” She turned and sauntered out of the gym, her tiny little spandex booty shorts clinging to her perfectly toned glutes.
“If you want to hit that, go ahead,” Jenna said. “It’s not like we’re really newlyweds.”
“Thanks, but not my type.”
“Oh, come on. Tan, rockin’ bod, model-perfect face, and eyes that say she’ll go the whole three rounds with you inside her ring anytime you want isn’t your type? She’s every man’s type.”
“Ten rounds.”
“Huh?”
“A boxing match is ten rounds. Unless one of the boxers taps out or collapses from exhaustion.”
Why did that sound like a challenge? “Noted.”
He stood in front of her, his legs apart a little, bracing himself. He held the pads up. “Now hit me.”
Jenna jabbed at the pad. Right. Left. Right, right. Left, left. Right, left, right. Wasn’t it lunchtime yet? This was exhausting.
“Is that all you’ve got, Jenna? Really? After the way Elliot—” He dropped his hands. “What did Elliot do to make you change your mind?”
She was doubled over, sucking in air, realizing she never had explained. Zach has just taken her at her word that she couldn’t go through with the wedding and couldn’t go back to Elliot and he’d helped her. He hadn’t second-guessed, cajoled, or questioned her decision. Huh.
Jenna took a deep breath but stayed bent over, gloves resting on her knees. “I have some special friends. Friends who are more like family. I asked them to be in the front pew where my parents should have been.” She sighed deeply, remembering how hurt she’d been. “Right before the wedding, Elliot moved them to the back row of the church because he felt they were ruining a shot the photographer was taking for a magazine write-up about our wedding.”
Zach didn’t say a word.
Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. It sounded so stupid saying it out loud. She’d upended her whole life, and Elliot’s, too, because of seating arrangements, like Niki had said. Even though it was way more than that. She’d been in denial about Elliot for a long time. But that wasn’t something she could easily explain. Logical, data-driven Zach would probably think she was some silly, spoiled twit who should have spoken up earlier rather than minutes before—
“That. Bastard.” His voice was low and dangerous.
Jenna stood up straight and found a totally different Zach than the one who had just been teasing her about snacking away her grief. His brows were drawn, his mouth tight. And there was this muscle in his jaw that seemed to be pulsing.
“What?”
“I knew he could be a selfish prick, but that is just—” He shook his head.
Zach totally got it. “So you don’t think I’m being silly?”
“Did he know you wanted your friends there?”
“Yeah.”
“And he did something that he knew would intentionally go against what you wanted and hurt you in the process?”
Jenna swallowed hard. That hurt the most—that the man she had planned to spend her life with knew his actions would hurt her and he did it anyway. “Yeah. He did.”
“Then he’s a fucking bastard and you were smart to ditch his lame ass. You’re going to be ten thousand times better off without him, Jenna. You are.”
Maybe it was all the emotion from the last twenty-four hours she’d stuffed deep, deep down inside herself. Maybe it was that she was stinky and tired and would have done anything to end the boxing session. And maybe it was that she really, really needed someone to be on her side. To tell her she was right and that everything was going to be fine. Whatever it was, she couldn’t restrain herself. She lurched forward and threw her arms around Nick’s neck, boob sweat, boxing gloves, and all.
His arms instantly went around her waist, as if it was reflex, the most natural thing in the world.
“Thanks, Zach. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” Jenna sobbed into his bare chest.
“It’s going to be okay, Jenna,” he said. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need.” One hand was in her hair now, the other stroking her back as he let her cling to him.
She pulled back after a long moment. “Why? Why are you doing this, Zach? You don’t even know me. And you’re Elliot’s friend, not mine.” She pulled out of his embrace and wiped her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know what I would have done without your help, but still…why?”
He looked at her, the crinkle between his brows back. His thinking look. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “It’s just when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw your face…I couldn’t just leave you.”
They stared at each other for what seemed like days but was probably only seconds. Jenna couldn’t know what he was thinking—probably that he should never have gotten involved with an emotional wreck of a
woman like her—but she was wondering where the hell he’d been the other times in her life when she’d needed a hero. Or just a friend who had her back.
“Well, now that I’ve cried all over you, I think you’re stuck with me,” Jenna said, wiping her eyes and trying for a watery smile. “At least until you have to catch your flight back to the city.”
Jenna tried to remove the first boxing glove but soon realized that was going to be impossible. Zach chuckled and started undoing the fastening. “Marcy said I needed a vacation.”
“You’ve got money, time, and your own private plane and this is your vacation?”
He dropped the first glove on the floor and started on the second one. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He grinned down at her. “Couldn’t you have planned a honeymoon to Tahiti or something? We could be baking in the sun on pristine beaches at a five-star hotel, Mai Tais being brought out to us on silver trays.”
“Maybe next time,” she said, picking up her water bottle. “Elliot didn’t want to leave the country. He didn’t even want to take a week off of work for this. The only reason he went along with it is because I booked it and paid for it before I told him where we were going.”
Zach grabbed his shirt and ushered Jenna toward the door. “Clueless,” he said under his breath. “Completely clueless.”
As she was still basking in the warm glow of someone having her back, Jenna’s phone rang. She checked the ID and picked up right away.
“Hey, Tommy,” she said. “Everything okay?” Tommy didn’t often call her. In fact, only once that she could remember, when Aggie had fallen and hit her head and been admitted to the hospital for observation.
“Mom’s fine,” he assured her. “But she wanted me to call and check on you.”
“I’m actually good,” she said, waving Zach ahead. They were in the lobby of the main building now, and she found a seat in the corner where it was quiet and relatively private, away from the restaurants and bar. “I should have called when I got here. I didn’t think.”
“I’m putting you on speaker.”
Jenna heard some fumbling then Aggie’s voice. “You missed a hell of a reception,” she said. “Food was good. Band could’ve used some Jay Z to liven things up.”
Jenna smiled. “Yeah, I heard Elliot went ahead with everything after I left. Can you settle a bet? Did Elliot cut the cake?”
“He sure did. Had your cousin stand up there with him.”
“Niki?” Well, she hadn’t mentioned that.
“For the photos, I think,” Tommy chimed in. “A close-up on their hands as they cut.”
“Nice. So what happens when magazine readers realize there actually was no wedding and all the photos are staged?” Jenna mused.
“I assume he still plans for there to be a wedding. He told everyone you fell ill all of a sudden,” Tommy said.
“Sick of his sh—”
“Mom!” Tommy interrupted.
Jenna could almost see him shoving an exasperated hand through his silver hair.
“Jenna. Can we bring you anything? Do you need a place to stay?” Tommy asked. “I still have that time share in the Bahamas if you want to get out of town. Katherine didn’t get that in the divorce, at least.”
When Jenna had run out of the church, she’d told Tommy she would get a hotel for the night and figure things out. “Well, plans changed a little after I saw you last,” she said. “I’m not in the city. I’m actually staying in the honeymoon hut I booked at the resort.”
“Oh,” Tommy said, obviously surprised.
“Who’s the groom?” Aggie asked.
“No groom. Just a friend. He, uh, gave me a ride to the airport. A friend of Elliot’s.”
“How well do you know this friend?” Tommy asked like a father concerned about a young man’s intentions toward her.
“Not well,” Jenna admitted. “But he’s nice. Really nice.”
“Handsome?” Aggie asked.
“He’s…yes, he’s handsome.”
Another voice boomed in her ear. “Get me his full name. And place of birth, if possible.”
“Chuck, you don’t have to yell into the speaker. She can hear you just fine,” Tommy said.
“Hey, Chuck. Didn’t realize you were there. How about the twins?”
“Clara has another beau,” Aggie said with what seemed like disapproval. “Helen went with her to chaperone the bridge game.”
That didn’t surprise Jenna. Neither Helen nor Clara had ever married, preferring each other’s company to that of any other. But one or the other of them frequently had boyfriends, and the other always tagged along, making it a threesome. If they’d been thirty years younger, Jenna would wonder about that arrangement.
“Why do you need Zach’s information, Chuck?” Jenna asked.
“For the background check,” he said as if it was obvious. Chuck was ex-military, but no one was sure exactly what he’d done while in the service. He sometimes said random things that made Jenna think military intelligence. She was pretty sure he had a file on each of them.
“I’m not dating him. He’s just being a friend.”
“Sex no good?” Aggie asked. “I can send you a book. Larry’s father gave it to him when we got married in 1954.” She snorted. “Not that he needed it. The sex was wonderful.” The last part was a sigh.
“Mom!” Tommy said. “I don’t want to hear about that again.”
“We’re not, uh…not necessary, but thanks, Aggie.”
“I’m still going to need that name,” Chuck said.
Tommy groaned. “I should have called you while they were all distracted watching NCIS,” he said. “Sorry. It’s just that we were all worried about you.”
“Oh, that Harmon boy is a cutie,” Aggie said.
“It’s no problem,” Jenna said genuinely. “I really appreciate it, but I think I’m actually going to be just fine.”
“Has Elliot contacted you?” Tommy asked.
“About a million times. I asked Niki to tell him I would call tomorrow—today.” Ugh. Right. She was going to have to do that today. “I probably owe him an explanation.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” Chuck said.
“Explain, but don’t apologize,” Tommy advised. “You had to do what was right for you.”
“Tell him to eat sh—”
“I will,” she said, quickly cutting Aggie off. “Explain, I mean.”
“And the other young man?” Chuck pressed. He wasn’t going to relent.
“Zach Ruiz,” Jenna said. “I have no idea where he was born, but he and Elliot went to college together. He used to be Elliot’s business partner.”
“I’ll get with my people,” Chuck said, as if it was a matter of national security.
“I’m going to herd this crew to lunch now,” Tommy said. He really was sounding more and more like a harried pre-school teacher. “Take care of yourself and call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Bye, Jenna,” Aggie called. “If you can’t be good, be safe!”
“Mom!” Tommy said and disconnected before Jenna could hear anything else.
She put her phone down and smiled. They really were the best. Some people might consider all the advice and background checks prying, but to Jenna, it was love. These people cared about her, what happened to her. Wasn’t that what made a family? What made love? Would she ever have a family of her own?
Jenna walked back toward the main part of the lobby and saw Zach standing by the desk, a gift shop bag in one hand. A fresh change of clothes, probably. She’d expected him to head back to the hut, but he’d waited for her here. He turned as she approached and smiled at her.
“Everything okay?” he asked when Jenna got to him.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think it is.”
Chapter Nine
Zach was not man who made many mistakes, but he absolutely screwed up when he touched Jenna, although technically she touched him first when she’d hug-tackled him in the gym. But now Zach knew what it felt like to hold her. Knew what her hair smelled like—coconut and something flowery. Knew that her small, curvy body fit exactly into his like a puzzle piece that had found its place. Knew he wanted more of everything.
And more was completely out of the question. Why? his analytical brain had asked on the walk back to the love shack. They were both adults, both single, and she was attracted to him, too. Well, Sherlock, first she was getting over a long-term relationship, and the internet article he’d read said that could take a long time. The last thing she needed was some asshole trying to start something new with her and confusing the process, drawing it out further. And two, Zach didn’t do relationships.
He enjoyed female company from time to time, but they were the type of woman who came on to him first at a dinner or a charity ball, usually, and made it clear what they wanted from him. His only rules were that she wasn’t married and that it was a one-off. Sex was a basic biological function, a need like food or water or shelter. It didn’t need to be more complicated than that. The women he took to bed were of the same mind, so they’d satisfy the mutual need and move on. Anything else, even a second go, meant entanglement, and that was just a distraction from Zach’s main goal of making a success of his business.
Jenna was not the one-off kind of woman. And Zach didn’t think he could be that kind of man with her. That scared the hell out of him. No, better to just be friends, keep his hands off, for her well-being and his, and then scratch the itch when he got back home. Although that thought honestly left him cold. As beautiful and talented as some of the women he’d associated with were, he couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone again that would compare favorably to Jenna. Maybe the memory of her would fade over time, but what if it didn’t?
“Mind if I shower first?” Zach asked when Jenna unlocked the door to the hut. He headed to the bathroom without waiting for a response. He turned on the cold tap, peeled off his clothes, and stepped under the stream.
The Anti-Honeymoon Page 7
