“Thanks for saying that. He sure had me fooled. Up until the minute I was having my bridal veil pinned in my hair, I thought I knew what the future had in store for me. I saw myself married to a man I had a common bond with. He was a high school principal. I was a grade-school teacher. We both loved education. But I was too blind to see that Steven had commitment phobia. He’d had one broken relationship after another before we started dating. I invested three years of my life in the guy, and I thought surely he’d gotten over it. I thought I was the one. But he was fooling himself as well as me.” A pent-up breath whooshed out of her. A little bit of tequila loosened her tongue, and out poured her heart. The unburdening was liberating. “My friend Sally said Steven looked up his old girlfriend seeking sympathy after the wedding that never happened. Can you imagine?”
Zane stared at her. “No. He should be on his knees begging you for forgiveness. He did one thing right. He didn’t marry you and make your life miserable. I hate to say it, darlin’, but you’re better off without him. The man doesn’t deserve you. But you’re hurt right now, and I get that. You probably still love him.”
“I don’t,” she said, hoisting her glass and swallowing a big gulp. “I pretty much hate him.”
Zane leaned back in his seat, his gaze soft on her. “Okay. You hate him. He’s out of your life.”
She braced folded elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. The sea was black as pitch now, the sky lit only with a few stars and clouded moonlight. “I just wanted...I wanted what you and Janie had. I wanted that kind of love.”
Her fuzzy brain cleared. Oh, no. She hadn’t just said that? She whipped her head around. Zane’s expression of sympathy didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. He simply stared out to sea. “We had something pretty special.”
“You did. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“Don’t be.” His tone held no malice. “You’re Janie’s sister. You have as much right to talk about her as I do.”
Tears misted in her eyes. “I miss her.”
“I miss her, too.”
She sighed. She didn’t mean to put such a somber mood on the evening. Zane was gracious enough to allow her to stay here. She didn’t want to bring him down. It was definitely time to call it a night. She put on a cheery face. “Well, this has been nice.”
She rose, and her head immediately clouded up. The table, the railing, the ocean blurred before her. She batted her eyes over and over, trying to focus. Two Zanes popped into her line of vision. She reached for the tabletop, struggling to remain upright on her own steam. She swayed back and forth, unable to keep her body still. “Zane?”
“It just hit you, didn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah. I think so.” She giggled.
“Don’t move for a second.”
“I’ll...try.” A tornado swirled in her head. “Why?”
He rose and hobbled over to her. Using one crutch, he tucked it under his left arm. “I’m going to help you get inside.”
“But, you said...you c-couldn’t. Uh...” She giggled again.
Zane wrapped his right arm around her shoulder. “Okay, now, darlin’, I’ve got you. Your body will be my other crutch. We’ll help each other. Move slowly.”
“W-where are we g-going?”
“I’ve got to get you to bed.”
Her head fell to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought how nice it felt to have him hold her. He smelled good. He would take care of her.
“Focus on putting one foot in front of the other.”
She tried.
“That’s good, honey.”
Hobble-hopping, they moved together. It seemed to take forever to go a short distance in the dark shadows of the night. Keeping her eyes down, she watched her feet move. Then blinding light appeared in a burst. She squinted. “What’s that?”
“We’re inside the house now,” Zane was saying.
“That’s g-good, right? I’ll be in b-bed soon.” A warm buzz spread through her like soft, sweet jelly.
“Not upstairs. You’ll never make it. We’re going to my room.”
She couldn’t wait to lay her head down someplace. She didn’t care where. More careful steps later, they entered a room. A ray of moonlight beamed like an arrow, aiming straight at the bed.
“Okay, we made it,” Zane said. He sounded weird and out of breath. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”
He guided her down. The bed hit her bottom quickly and cushioned around her. She swayed sideways and was immediately set to right. Zane held her steady as the mattress dipped again and he sat next to her. Dizzying waves bombarded her head. She’d sat too quickly.
“Think you can take it from here?” he whispered.
No. Aware of Zane’s eyes on her, she waited until the twister in her head calmed. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good.”
Her giddiness fading, her lighthearted high dropped to a pitiful low. It hadn’t taken her long to become a burden to Zane. If only she hadn’t sucked down that second margarita. Zane had warned her to go slowly. Expensive tequila and jet lag had done her in. Man, chalk another mistake up to her lousy intuition.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said.
But she was, and an urge to thank him wiggled through the fog in her head. Pursing her lips, she leaned forward toward his cheek. Her aim off, she missed and caught the corner of his mouth instead. As she brushed a soft kiss there, he tasted of tequila and the sea. So good. Inside, a warm sprinkling of something wonderful spread through her body. “Thank you,” she whispered, not sure if her words slurred.
Then his arms wrapped around her and gently lowered her down. Her head was enveloped in a large, fluffy pillow, and a silky sheet came to rest over her body.
She heard a whispered, “Welcome,” right before the world finally stopped spinning.
Jessica gazed at the digital clock on the nightstand. Eight-thirty! She flashed back to last night and drinking those two giant margaritas, then slowly looked around. She was in an unfamiliar bed.
She’d finally let go and given herself permission to have a good time, and where had that gotten her? She’d made a fool of herself. Zane had hobbled her inside the house and slept heaven only knew where. Was there another bedroom on this floor? Maybe a servant’s quarters? She’d seen an office, a screening room and a game room. No beds, just couches. “Oh, man,” she mumbled.
She scanned the stark but stylish bedroom where she’d slept. A flat-screen TV, a dresser and a low fabric sofa were the only other furniture in the room. If it wasn’t for a shelf that housed Zane’s five Grammys, as well as a couple of CMA and ACM awards, she wouldn’t have guessed it was his master suite. There was nothing personal, warm and cozy about the space.
Hitching her body forward, she waited for signs of pain, but there was nothing. Thank goodness—no hangover. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand, tossed off the covers and rose. Seeing she was still dressed in her shorts and tank top, she emitted a low groan from her throat as she slipped her feet into her flip-flops. How reckless of her. She’d abused Zane’s hospitality already.
She entered the bathroom, another ode to magnificence, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Smudged mascara and rumpled hair reflected back at her. She washed her