He stripped out of his clothes and started the shower. He hesitated for only a moment before tossing the T-shirt into the garbage.
The warm water sluiced over him, and he watched blue rivulets of paint diluting to nothing and spiraling down the drain.
It would be so easy to be mad at Marcy, but she was right. As always. Zach needed help. And that scared the hell out of him. And his mom was right, too. He didn’t know how to ask for that help. He didn’t know how to tell people what he needed, what he wanted. He hadn’t known how to tell Jenna that he was in love with her and make her believe it. And once Elliot had pointed out all the things that had happened, why would she? Zach hadn’t intentionally used her, but from her perspective, it looked really, really bad.
And why hadn’t Zach called her? Tried to explain? Because he didn’t know how to ask her to give him a chance. Deep down, he knew he didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve a woman like her.
Fuck. This was why he didn’t do this. Why work was better than people.
But then work hadn’t dropped everything and flown across the country based on one phone call from a very concerned long-term employee.
His family had.
Without question. Without a second thought or bitterness that Zach maybe hadn’t visited as much as he could. They’d come. They were here for Zach now. And would be here as long as he needed them.
This was what Jenna had been talking about when she spoke of family. People who had your back no matter what. People who pushed you and challenged you and made you a better person. People who picked you up when you fell. People you would do exactly the same for when the roles were switched.
Exactly the type of person he wanted to be. Exactly the kind of man he wanted to be for Jenna.
A bolt of energy reanimated what had become an empty husk of a person, and he quickly scrubbed his hair, twice. He washed his body then climbed out of the shower, shaved, brushed his teeth, and went into his bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist to find some clean clothes. He settled on a blue T-shirt and pair of track pants. Baby steps, he told himself.
His brothers had arrived, and everyone was busily cleaning the apartment. His dad, Anthony, and Mike were bagging up the last of the garbage. His mom was at the sink doing the dishes. Zach grabbed a garbage bag and started tossing the empty tubes of paint and ruined brushes he hadn’t taken the time to clean.
“What the hell are those?” Mike said, coming up to look at the paintings.
“You must have been drunk when you painted that one,” Anthony said, indicating a starfish that looked, well, like it had been part of a nuclear experiment gone wrong.
“Stone sober,” Zach said.
Mike threw an arm around Zach. “Let’s get these down to the incinerator,” he said. “Fast.” They started gathering up the canvases.
“So what are you going to do about this girl?” Anthony asked. “Need a little bedroom advice?”
“Not from you,” Mike said, punching him on the shoulder. “God, she’d run away screaming. And what the hell is that on your ankle, Zach? A flower?”
Zach smiled, instantly fourteen again, sharing a bedroom with these two.
“Yes, it’s a flower. And I have no idea what to do about the girl,” Zach said. “I’m completely fucked.”
And then he laughed. For the first time in a month, he laughed.
Chapter Twenty
Technically, Jenna told herself, it wasn’t breaking and entering if she had a key. She eased the door to Zach’s apartment open and listened. No TV. No sounds of any kind, just the silence of an empty apartment. She knew that sound. It was the same whether it was a crappy efficiency or a four-thousand-square-foot penthouse.
It had taken another couple of weeks after Marcy visited her for Jenna to decide to call Zach. And when the voicemail message had come on, explaining that he was out of town and would return the call when he got back, Jenna had no idea what to say, so she had just hung up. The new Jenna went after what she wanted, and what she wanted from Zach was closure. She couldn’t get closure from a voicemail.
Marcy had confirmed he’d gone to Phoenix to help his dad build a fence or something, which seemed weird, since he could just hire someone to get it done, but whatever.
And that left his apartment empty.
Jenna closed the door and stood in the entry for a moment, looking around. He’d once said it was Spartan, and it was definitely minimalist. Gray furniture, a small two-person dining set. Huge TV. Bookcase stuffed with mathematics textbooks from college. A picture of a group of people that had to be his family.
What was she doing there? She’d asked herself that on the drive over. On the way up the elevator. As she was unlocking Zach’s door.
Right. Closure. A last good-bye before putting a period on the end of their sentence and moving on. She wanted to be close to him one last time, to confirm to herself that the feelings had all been real, at least on her part. The new Jenna was honest with herself, even when it hurt. Even if it required breaking into his apartment when he was away.
Jenna would only stay a few minutes, she told herself.
She walked through the living room to his bedroom, totally avoiding the bed. Everything was neat and clean, not an item out of place. So much for the wallowing Marcy spoke of. His bathroom was the same. His closet—no touristy T-shirts in sight. Just button-down shirts and business wear for the most part.
Jenna sighed deeply. This was not feeling like the confident power move she thought it would be. It just felt pathetic.
She was leaving. And no one would ever know she was there. She’d leave the key on the counter and go.
She left the master suite and was crossing the living room toward the door when she noticed something—a pop of color in an otherwise dull-colored apartment.
She went to the big windows that overlooked the city, and there on an easel was a single small painting. She squinted at it. If she looked at it just right, it almost looked like…a hummingbird.
She picked it up and turned it ninety degrees. Marcy was right about him being a terrible artist, but yeah, it was a hummingbird. And it looked like the right colors to be a copy of the one on Jenna’s wrist.
All the air went out of her, and she sat down at the table, still holding the painting, staring at it.
Maybe Zach…had he been thinking about her? Missing her?
A sound of scuffling at the door made her jerk her head up. A key in the lock.
Oh shit. She was busted. Had the desk lady called the cops? Zach probably had this place wired to the nines with security cameras and they’d all caught her skulking around the house like a thief.
Several people burst through the door, all talking and laughing at once.
Zach was in front, and he looked…happy. Dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, his hair combed, a light scruff on his face that only made him look sexier than she’d even imagined. Yeah, so much for his missing her.
Jenna stood. It was going to be impossible to sneak out now.
She put the painting back on the easel and closed her eyes, wishing this were all a bad dream. So humiliating to be caught snooping in his apartment, especially given the way they’d left things at the resort.
Everyone stopped talking all of a sudden.
Please, please don’t let this group be a group of his women.
“Jenna?” Zach asked, wonder and surprise lacing his voice. He set down two large canvases he’d been carrying. Their paint and sip pictures, if she wasn’t mistaken.
“Yeah,” she said too brightly, as if it was perfectly natural for her to be in his apartment. Coming around the table, she started to talk fast. “I—was returning your key,” she said, fishing it out of her pocket. “Marcy had given it to me, and I wanted to…”
She looked at all the people standing behind Zach. An older couple was
there, the man bearing a striking resemblance to Zach in complexion and features. And two tall men behind them, who could only be Zach’s brothers. Then there was a younger woman, holding a baby.
Zach’s family.
“So, yeah,” she said forcing a smile. “Here’s your key, and I’ll just be…going.”
She started for the door, but no one was moving to give her access.
“Wait,” Zach said. He pulled the raggedy scrap of pink paper out of his pocket. “Dinner,” he said, his eyes imploring. “We haven’t marked our totally unromantic dinner off the list yet.”
She blinked. He was still carrying that slip of paper around?
“I’ve hardly been able to eat or sleep knowing that box was still unchecked,” he said with a little smile. “Will you stay? Just for dinner.”
Jenna examined his expression for signs that he was joking, but no, he seemed pretty serious. And somehow, she loved that about him—his commitment to a goal.
She loved more than just his commitment.
The older woman—his mom, if Jenna had to guess—was watching them closely. “Yes, stay for supper,” she said with a nod. “Put the bags over there,” she instructed the younger men. “Then wash your hands.”
Everyone moved at once, removing coats, getting the playpen set up for the baby, unpacking groceries, and getting out pans.
As soon as they were alone, Zach moved closer, and her breath caught at his nearness. She’d thought about him almost constantly, never really believing she’d see him again. Time had given her some perspective on their last morning together, and she realized that she’d allowed all her insecurities to get the best of her. She’d accused, tried, and convicted Zach without hearing him out. Without giving him a chance. She’d believed Elliot and thrown away something that might have been great.
How could he ever forgive her for that?
“What do you say? We left our dive bar pizza in the Uber, and our beach picnic turned into a striptease, so we never checked it off the list. A dinner with my family is the opposite of a quiet romantic dinner on the beach.” He gave her a vulnerable smile that made her want to return it. And maybe she would have if her heart wasn’t breaking all over again.
When he was looking at her like that, it was impossible to say no. Even if she wanted to. Even though walking away and protecting her heart would be the best thing she could do for herself. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked, and she thought some of the tension left his shoulders. “Okay. Great. Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the kitchen.
“Everyone,” he said over the din, “this is Jenna.”
Smiles. All around.
“So nice to finally meet you,” Zach’s dad said, coming over to give her a hug.
Four more greetings with hugs to match followed before everyone went back to what they were doing.
“Come in here, Jenna,” his mom said. “My husband’s family comes from Chile, and his mother used to make the most amazing empanadas. I’m not under any illusion that mine are better, but when Vicente said he was going to marry me, my mother-in-law made me promise to learn the recipe, and I did.”
Jenna’s heart panged with longing. The offer seemed so…familial. “I would love to learn to make empanadas,” she said honestly, hoping Zach wasn’t offended that his mom was about to teach her the family recipe.
Whatever apprehension she felt initially quickly evaporated. Zach’s family was warm and welcoming and funny as hell. She could see where he got his sense of humor. His dad in particular liked to tell a good joke, and his siblings got a lot of joy—and elicited a lot of groans out of Zach—as they told Jenna tales from his youth. It turned out that Zach wasn’t always the angel he had professed to be.
The meal was wonderful, and afterward, everyone helped clean up before they all hugged Jenna and Zach and promised to see him in the morning.
At last, they were alone again, and that sense of awkwardness made her nervous all over again.
“Thank you,” Zach said. “Thank you for staying.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re a lot, I know. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable?”
It had honestly been one of the best nights she’d had in a while. Funny how all her recent best nights revolved around him. “Not at all. They’re wonderful. And Isabell is adorable.”
“She is. Can’t wait to spoil her rotten.”
The comment was followed by a half smile that positively melted her heart. The heart that would shatter all over again if he told her to get out and never come back. Sure, he’d invited her for dinner, but he couldn’t exactly tell her to go away in front of his family.
He got a bottle of wine out the rack. “Drink?”
She should go. She’d promised dinner, and dinner was over. Checked off the list. She’d just get her coat and… “Sure.”
She really had no sense of self-preservation where this man was concerned.
Jenna went to sit on the couch as he poured two glasses.
He sat on the couch beside her, setting both glasses on the coffee table. He was warm and handsome and so, so tempting. “So, breaking and entering?”
She let out a breath. “I thought you were in Phoenix.”
“I was. I was there for a week to visit my grandparents then invited everyone back here for another week,” he said. “I just…didn’t want to be alone.”
“I know the feeling,” she said.
He looked at her for a long moment. “I have a confession,” he said, his face suddenly serious.
And here was the part where he told her to get lost. That she’d ruined everything by jumping to conclusions without even giving him a chance.
He pulled the list out of his pocket. “I don’t give a crap about the list. I didn’t care about checking off the dinner or any other anti-couples’ activities. In fact, I wish there were a dozen other unromantic things on this list just so I could not check them off.”
Now he wasn’t making any sense at all. It was the paint fumes, probably. “I don’t understand. You’re the list guy.”
“No.” He tossed the list on the coffee table and gave her the Smolder. “I’m the Jenna guy.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I screwed up. I know that. I should have…well, I should have done a lot of things. Been honest about the way I felt from the start. And I know I can’t expect you to just forget what happened.”
He let out a deep, long breath. “I want to make a new list with you. A list filled with all the sappy couples’ activities you could imagine and more. I want to spend every day with you proving what I’m saying is true and not some ploy to get information or something. I—”
“Shut up,” she said, launching herself into his arms. Jenna kissed him, touching his face as she did. Savoring the taste of him. The taste of love. The taste of home.
His arms wrapped around her, and he kissed her back like he was drowning.
“Wait,” he said after a minute. He pulled back a bit. “I need you to know that I never meant to use you. I never lied to you. And when I said I loved you, I meant it.”
“I know,” she said. And she did. She knew it deep in her heart. “And I love you, too.” The fear was gone now, smothered by the love so perfectly expressed in his dark eyes.
A look came over his face. A look of complete and utter joy.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said.
“Well, then you lead a small, sad little life,” Jenna said. “You should probably get out more.”
He laughed. “Maybe. But all I really want is more than just this,” he said, indicating their clutching hold on each other. “I want you in my life. We’ll rearrange things. I’ll hire more help at work. I’ll move wherever you want to live. I just…need you. Need to be the man for you.”
She gave him an assessing look. “Hmm. Just promise me you’re done with art. Like, any art.”
“I did a palm tree that looked pretty good,” he said with mock indignation.
“And where is this masterpiece?”
“Mike threw it in the incinerator.” He shook his head sadly. “Probably would have been worth a couple mil one day.”
“Unlikely.”
Jenna kissed him again, more slowly this time. Lingeringly. Promising everything with that kiss. And Zach’s budding art career was forgotten.
“Wait,” he said, pulling back again.
“What?” she said, almost annoyed. Why did he keep stopping what promised to be a very good, very hot, very long reunion?
“You’re not just using me for my family, are you?”
Fair question only half in jest. After all, a lot of their conversations had centered on her need to be part of a family again.
“I’m trying to use you for your body if you’d quit interrupting.”
When he failed to start kissing her again, simply staring at her instead, she sighed and gave him a dramatic eye roll. “Your family is nice,” she said. “But I have a family.” Aggie, Tommy, Chuck, Clara, Helen—that was the family she’d had all this time. “There’s always room for more, though.”
He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers up her spine.
“Good answer,” he said. Then he kissed her. And this time, he didn’t stop.
Finally.
Epilogue
Moonlight shimmered on the ocean waves as the strains of the orchestra drifted across the beach from the white silk tent that had been erected there. All of their friends and family were inside that tent celebrating Zach and Jenna’s wedding. Champagne, music, laughter, and more than a little merriment at the names of the hors d’oeuvres that were being passed around spilled into the night, reaching the edge of the water where Jenna stood with her brand new husband.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “I can’t believe, after all the complaining you did about this resort, that you wanted to have our wedding here.”
The Anti-Honeymoon Page 18
