Jesse's Girl Page 7

  Wanted to go places.

  Wanted to see things.

  Roger had always just been more of a homebody. He was…no…he had been happiest at home. With her.

  Now, he was gone and she was at loose ends.

  She needed to go somewhere.

  Do something.

  Just yesterday, she’d turned her shop over to the capable hands of her manager. Kelly could handle it. She’d more than proven that over the past few months.

  The house was sold.

  Between the house’s sale and the life insurance policy, she had more than enough money in the bank to just…relax for a while. Travel some.

  Blowing out a breath, she met Mitzi Harmon’s eyes and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Honey, are you sure?” Mitzi smiled gently. “You’d be leaving in…” she checked her monitor and then looked back at Zoe. “Two days. That’s not much time. What about your mother? Your store?”

  Guilt tried to twist at Zoe’s heart, but logically, she knew her mother was better off if she wasn’t around. Her mother was still so angry with her, even if she didn’t fully remember why. Whenever she was there, the moods were worse, the violence was worse.

  As much as it hurt her heart to admit it, Mom did better when she wasn’t there.

  “Mom will be fine,” she said. Then she forced a smile and added, “And Kelly will handle the store. Trust me, Mitzi. I need to do this.”

  When she left the travel agent’s office a little while later, it was like there was a weight lifted off her shoulders.

  She had a plan in mind…one that involved getting out of Warren. Finally.

  She could get away from all the sympathetic looks, and she could get away from the memories, and she could get away from…

  “Jesse!”

  She crashed straight into his chest, dropping the little folder that held the information she’d need for the tour.

  Laughing, she crouched down and gathered it up. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Kneeling down, he helped her gather everything up, his eyes on her face, watching her in that way of his. For the past month, longer, he’d been right there, a steady, soothing presence and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to find herself leaning on him far, far too much and she couldn’t do that.

  She couldn’t.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him lift a hand like he was going to touch her, but then he curled his fingers into a fist, lowered his hand. She was glad—so damn glad, because when he touched her, it did bad, bad things to her heart, reminded her that she hadn’t died with Roger.

  She didn’t want to remember that…just yet.

  And she certainly didn’t want that reminder with Jesse.

  Straightening, she gave him a smile. It was easy to smile at him right now, because in a couple days, she’d be gone, away from him and he couldn’t do these things to her battered, slowly-bleeding heart. She needed to heal, needed to recover from what the past year had done to her and then, when she was strong, she could look at him and realize he wasn’t what her heart was making him out to be.

  Her heart was telling her that she still needed him, that she wanted him, but Zoe knew better.

  She’d stopped needing him a long, long time ago, and he’d certainly stopped needing her.

  She wasn’t Jesse’s girl anymore.

  She might not be Roger’s anymore, but she needed the time and the distance…needed to find her own strength, stand on her own.

  For the first time in her life, she realized.

  “Earth to Zoe…”

  Jesse waved a hand in front of her and she jerked her attention back to him, shook her head. “Sorry. My mind’s wandering—I’ve got a million things to get done,” she said. Lifting the brochure up, she showed it to him. “I’m going away for a while.”

  If she’d told him she was secretly a man, she didn’t think he would have been any more surprised.

  Her heart bumped against her ribs at the look on his face.

  His dark blue eyes were darker and the skin around his eyes went tight. Blood drained out of his face and if she didn’t know better, she’d think that he looked…hurt.

  Very hurt.

  Almost the way she’d felt when she realized he’d left her behind…

  “Going away?” he said, the words faint, hoarse.

  Busying herself with straightening all the information she’d gotten from Mitzi, she started to walk. Jesse fell into step next to her, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. “Yes. I need…” she sighed and glanced around, studying the small town around her. She’d lived here her entire life—knew just about everybody. Her friends were here and even though the only blood family she had no longer knew her…well, the bonds of family weren’t always forged solely through blood.

  Leaving her mother would hurt, but it wouldn’t be the hardest part.

  That would be leaving James, leaving Kelly.

  Leaving Jesse…her heart whispered.

  No—

  “I’ve got to get away from here for a while, Jesse,” she said after a minute. “You remember how you said you couldn’t breathe? Back when you left here after graduation? I get that, because lately? I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t focus. Every time I think I’m doing a little better, somebody comes up and pats me on the back… ‘There, there, poor, poor Zoe. You’ve been through so much, but it will get better. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you…’”

  A bitter smile twisted her lips. “Yeah. My whole life—a life I’d planned on spending with Roger and now, I don’t know what to do with it.”

  For the longest time, Jesse was silent. Then, slowly, he said, “So you’re just leaving. That’s going to make it better? Fix things?”

  “No. It’s not going to make it better, but it will give me some time to heal…on my own. Let me get my head on straight, and maybe decide what I want to do. What I need to do.”

  He reached out and caught her arm, coming to a stop.

  Because he had a grip on her arm, when he stopped, so did she. Ignoring the way his touch made her heart race, she stared past him and tried to smile, tried to focus on anything but the way she was feeling inside.

  Broken…desperate…so full of need for him. Again.

  “So you leave. You just leave?” he said.

  Don’t look at him, she thought. Don’t look at him. As long as you don’t look at him, you’ll be okay.

  Two seconds later, she found herself staring into his dark, dark eyes, her heart racing, her mouth dry.

  “I don’t just leave,” she said hoarsely. “But it’s what I need to do.”

  His hand came up, stroked down her jaw. “Let me come with you. You don’t need to be alone right now.”

  His head came closer, closer…

  Abruptly, she realized he just might kiss her but then she jerked away.

  Not very far, because he still held her arm. As if he’d realized where they were, he looked up and around, and swore. Then he was pulling her into a store. It took almost a full minute to realize what store—his store. By that time, they were in the back of it, tucked inside his private office.

  “Don’t leave, Zoe,” Jesse said, quietly, staring at her.

  Time fell away and she felt like she was lost, staring into his eyes. And she hated it. Closing her hands into a fist, she rubbed her wedding ring with her thumb. Her wedding ring…the ring Roger had put on her finger after Jesse had walked away from her.

  She’d been eighteen, and so in love with him…when he’d walked away, it had almost killed her.

  Don’t leave me, Jesse…the echo of her voice danced in her mind.

  Clenching her jaw, she blocked that voice out of her mind, locked those memories away. She didn’t have to go back there, especially not right now. She forced herself to take a slow, deep breath, forced herself not to look away from his eyes, forced herself not to turn away—run
away.

  Part of her wanted to do just that.

  An equal part of her wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around his neck and just let him hold her. She knew he would.

  Jesse wasn’t going to disappear again. Whatever it was that had made him leave all those years ago, it was no longer an issue. He was home to stay and he seemed happy here.

  Leaning on him, though, that wasn’t the answer.

  “Zoe?”

  “I have to go,” she said softly, meeting his eyes. That dark, dark blue stared into hers, unblinking, unwavering.

  “Why?”

  Sighing, she tucked the information from Mitzi into her purse, then tossed her purse onto his desk. Then she rubbed her temple. A familiar, nagging headache brewed behind her eyes and she wanted, desperately, to curl up somewhere dark and quiet and sleep. For a week.

  She definitely didn’t want to be having this discussion with Jesse.

  “Has it occurred to you that it’s fabulously ironic, you asking me that question?” she asked absently.

  She glanced at him, watched the dull rush of blood rise up his cheeks.

  Part of her felt bad about that, but another part of her, that small, petty part she wasn’t proud of, it felt like dancing. Good…feel guilty. You know how much it hurt when I realized you weren’t coming back?

  And deep, deep inside, part of her wanted to hide away from all of that knowledge, but it was bad, bad, and very bad that it mattered at all. If she had ever been able to put him away, if she had ever been able to not think of him, maybe she could get over him.

  “Fifteen years ago, I asked you not to leave me,” she murmured, staring off into the distance, remembering that day. She could remember it so vividly. In vivid, crystalline clarity—

  The way the summer sun beat down on her shoulders as she walked outside when she heard him pull up.

  The way he’d smiled at her—a sad, strained kind of smile.

  His words.

  I’m leaving, Zo.

  And she remembered how she’d begged him. Begged him not to leave, begged him to take her with him.

  There were other memories, darker memories, memories that she needed to exorcise—demons she needed to remove from her life.

  Little slut. Ungrateful slut—

  “But you left anyway.” She looked back at him and said, “I don’t blame you. We were just kids and you had to do what you had to do. But you made your choice, and it wasn’t me. Now I’ve got to make a choice, and it’s to get away from here for a while.”

  She started to walk away then, but the look in his dark blue eyes, it was like a fist around her heart. Slowly, she went to him, pushed up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

  It was nothing like kissing him at eighteen.

  And yet…it was exactly like it.

  Hot, wicked and wild.

  His hand came up, caught the back of her head, cradled it.

  A harsh, ragged groan escaped him.

  It was supposed to be a good-bye kiss, quick, light…easy.

  A kiss between friends.

  It was anything but. His mouth opened under hers and as his tongue stole into her mouth, she couldn’t help but open for him. He tasted like coffee, cinnamon and Jesse…his taste was one she’d never, ever forgot, even after all this time.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs and her body cried out, screamed for more.

  But before she could give in, she pulled back. “Good-bye, Jesse.”

  So this is what it feels like, being the one left behind.

  Jesse could still taste Zoe on his lips, could still feel her pressed against him.

  Could still see the bright banner of her hair as she made her way through the store.

  But she was as good as gone.

  Had she felt like this, he wondered. All those years ago, when he left Warren without much more than a backward glance.

  Had she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest?

  Shaken, empty, he sank into the chair behind his desk and covered his face with his hands.

  He wanted to chase after her, but he couldn’t.

  There had been something in her eyes.

  Despite the pain ripping through him, he had seen something in her eyes as she told him.

  She needed to do this.

  And she needed to do it without him.

  He had to let her go.

  Reaching inside his shirt, he closed his hand around the Z he still wore.

  His bleeding, battered heart told him to get up, run after her.

  But he just sat there, holding that golden charm in his hand and telling himself, I have to do this…for her.

  From the hallway, Zoe stared at her mother.

  So far, Grace hadn’t noticed her.

  She was playing Scrabble with another one of the residents.

  “How has she been?”

  The nurse smiled at her and said, “Pretty good, actually. The doctor adjusted her medicine, like we discussed. I think it’s doing her a world of good.”

  Zoe nodded.

  Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the phone numbers. “I’ve already spoken to the doctor and those who head up her care plan. But just in case, can you make sure these numbers are where they need to be? It’s who to contact if there’s a problem. James will know how to get in contact with me if there’s an emergency, but for standard things, he’s the one you’ll need to contact until I’m back in town. I’m taking some time, going away for a while.”

  She’d thought she’d feel guilty.

  But as she stood there, watching her mom, she realized she didn’t.

  Her mother actually looked happier now than she had in quite a while, and Zoe knew what would happen if she went over there. It would anger the other woman, distress her.

  They weren’t any good for each other. They never really had been.

  Grace was happier not knowing her daughter than she ever had been knowing her.

  And Zoe was okay with that.

  Chapter Eight

  One month turned into two.

  Two into four.

  Four into six.

  Each day, Jesse swore he was dying a little more inside. Each day, he gave up a little more hope that she’d come back soon.

  He knew she called.

  His dad talked to her—his dad was acting as her mother’s guardian while Zoe was out of town.

  She called to ask about her mom, but she never called to talk to him.

  She called to check on her store—he knew this, because he’d asked Kelly and Kelly was more than happy to tell him that Zoe had spent a month in Alaska. Then she’d gone to the beach. Then Europe. All over the frickin’ globe, it seemed.

  Kelly had postcards.

  Jesse had the memory of one kiss, and the necklace she’d given him on prom night more sixteen years ago now, and a heart that was so beyond broken, it wasn’t even funny.

  Memories, a necklace…and a hope that was so faint, it couldn’t even be called a hope any more.

  She wasn’t going to come back here.

  And even if she did, it wouldn’t be because of him, he suspected. He’d been fooling himself. Yeah, he might still love her, but he’d killed whatever love she’d had for him years ago…sixteen years ago.

  Pushing all of that aside, he stared into his dad’s darkened attic and tried to figure out why he’d agreed to this.

  Because his dad had asked, that was why.

  His dad wanted him to string up the Christmas lights.

  So that’s what he was doing.

  If he could ever find the stupid things.

  Reaching up, he tugged on the chain for the light and began the tedious task of searching for the right box.

  It was while he was hunting for the right box that he found the wrong one.

  A box full of dusty books, envelopes and junk, precariously perched, just waiting to fall. On one end, it was marked, Roger’s office and he winced as it went tumbling. Biting back a
sigh, he crouched down and starting putting everything back in, only to realize it was going to be a nightmare to get things organized.

  A lot of papers had fallen out of place and he had no clue what went where, no idea if any of it was important. Muttering under his breath, he started shuffling the pages into order and that was when the pictures fell out.

  They were old.

  But there was no mistaking Zoe’s battered face. In the pictures of her face, even with her eyes averted, he could see her shame.

  What in the hell…

  A muscle jerked in his jaw.

  What in the holy fucking hell…

  Flipping them over, he stared at the date.

  All the breath was knocked right out of him.

  He knew that date—knew it well.

  It was the day after he’d walked out of Zoe Childers—now Zoe Kirkbride’s—life.

  What in the hell…

  I want you to live.

  I want you happy.

  The cold seeped through the knees of her jeans as she crouched on the ground. There was a brightly colored autumn bouquet on Roger’s grave—from Bianca, Zoe supposed.

  “Hey, baby,” she murmured, reaching out and touching the gravestone.

  She’d been gone for six months.

  Roger had been gone for seven.

  It seemed like yesterday, and at the same time, it seemed like a lifetime.

  In those months that she’d been gone, one thing had become painfully clear.

  She loved Jesse.

  Deep inside, she had never stopped loving him.

  Oh, she loved Roger…but the love she had for the two men was as drastically different as the two men were. Roger had been her rock—steady, abiding and so strong and true. She knew that she could have lived happily with him—had wanted just that, but life had kicked them both in the teeth, robbed them of that.

  Jesse, though…he was her heart.

  “You knew, didn’t you?”

  There was no answer—none that she could hear, but in her heart, she felt something. A warmth. A lightness.

  There was also guilt, but that was her own doing, she knew.

  The heart didn’t exactly work in ways that could be explained, she guessed. Part of her had always loved Jesse, and maybe part of her had always waited, had always hoped he’d come back. Not that she ever would have done anything, not if Roger was still here.