Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2) (17 page)

Except a part of her really did want to do something else. The part of her that remembered what is was like to make love to Zach. The part of her that had seen him helping a neighbor and remembered all over again why she had once loved him.

“Too bad,” he said. “Because that was way better than any cookies.”

And yet, still she flirted. Still she pushed that envelope. “Even better than Mildred’s white chocolate macadamia nut cookies?”

Zach put a finger to his chin, feigning deep thought. “I don’t know. Those were pretty incredible.”

She gave him a gentle slug. “That good, huh?”

His face shifted from teasing to serious. “You were more incredible, Jillian.”

Heat stole into her cheeks. Her heart softened, and she wanted to stay here, in this moment, for a long, long time. She forgot about Ethan for a second, forgot about the car accident, forgot about everything but his soft brown eyes and the way his voice curled around her.

“Oh, Zach,” she said softly. “Why did you never say any of these things when we were together?”

If he had—if he had tried harder to be a boyfriend who gave instead of took, then maybe she never would have put her ring on his amp. Maybe she would have worked harder to keep them together. Or maybe she would have given him a second chance.

“I was an idiot, JillyBean. Some would argue I still am an idiot.” He reached out a hand, as if he were going to touch her, then glimpsed Ethan striding over to them. The flirty mood between them evaporated in an instant. “Anyway, you have a good day. I’m going to go talk to Officer Nichols and see if he had any questions about the…aftermath.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks. You, too.”

Zach turned on his heel just as Ethan closed the gap. Jillian told herself that what she felt in that moment wasn’t disappointment. But there was something a lot like a stone in her gut, and the happy anticipation she’d had for the day with Ethan seemed to flit away.

FIFTEEN

Zach was a serious glutton for punishment. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to go to Darcy and Kincaid’s barbeque, to the one place where Jillian and her new boyfriend would be? Hadn’t he had enough of seeing them together at the restaurant and the car accident?

But no. Like a moron, Zach hopped in his car and headed over to Darcy and Kincaid’s house, pulling in to the right of the silver car that Jillian and that guy had arrived in. Zach didn’t like him much—okay, didn’t like him at all. He wasn’t sure if that intense dislike stemmed from seeing the other man with Jillian, or if it was justified by the way he had ignored the people in the car accident, or how he seemed to have this haughty attitude outside the restaurant, or all of the above.

Kincaid strode up to Zach as he rounded the corner into their backyard. “You look like a guy who could use a beer.”

Zach chuckled. “You read my mind.”

Kincaid clapped Zach on the shoulder, then pressed a full, cold beer into his hands. Kincaid’s face softened with sympathy. Back when Kincaid and Darcy had dated years ago, the
four of them had hung out from time to time, and Zach had always liked the down-to-earth lawyer and heir to wealth he didn’t want. “She’s here, with her date,” Kincaid said.

“I know.” Zach cursed himself again for coming. But he liked Kincaid and Darcy, always had, and didn’t want to miss their barbecue. Though when he’d accepted the invitation, he’d had no idea how painful it would be to see Jillian with that guy again.

“But what you don’t know,” Kincaid went on, “is that Jillian keeps glancing over at the side gate every five seconds, as if she’s looking for someone else to show up.”

That surprised Zach. And filled him with a ridiculous amount of hope. “Let’s hope that someone else is me.”

“You’ll never know till you get in there.” Kincaid pushed on the gate, and the two of them stepped into the backyard. As they did, Darcy turned and caught her fiancé’s eye. The two of them exchanged a quick, private smile. The kind that made Zach feel a little—okay, a lot—of envy at the obvious love between Kincaid and Darcy. In a few days, they’d be married, and forming a family with their little girl Emma.

Zach had always thought he didn’t want that. But he realized now, looking at the pure joy in Darcy and Kincaid’s faces, that he wanted exactly what they had. Wanted it a lot.

What was that old saying? About not knowing what you had until it was gone? He knew that now, and if he could have rewound the last few months, he would have in a heartbeat.

A few dozen people were already there, standing by the grill, sitting in the Adirondack chairs. But Zach’s gaze skipped over them all and went straight to Jillian. She was talking to Darcy, a smile on her face and a beer in her hand, looking as relaxed and at home here as she did everywhere she went. Zach’s heart did a little skip-beat.

Turn around,
he thought.
Turn around so I can see your smile.

But she didn’t read his mind. She just kept on talking to Darcy. So he admired her from a distance, the lacy white coverup that she wore, which let her bathing suit peek out in very enticing ways, the way her hair was loose and over her strong shoulders, the way she kept tucking one errant strand behind her ear whenever the breeze would whisk it forward.

“I think I’m going to go talk to the new guy, keep him occupied for a bit,” Kincaid said. “While I’m doing that, maybe you want to go over and see if Jillian needs a refill or something.”

Zach gave Kincaid a grin. Yet another reason to like the guy. “Sounds like a plan.”

Kincaid ambled over to Jillian’s date and started talking to him. The two of them walked toward the grill, and Zach beelined for Jillian. Darcy smiled when he approached, then said something to Jillian and turned away. Jillian pivoted to go, saw Zach, and stopped. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” He handed her his still untouched beer. “Brought you a refill.”

She smiled. “Mine’s still full. But thanks.”

“Well, cheers then.” He tipped the bottle towards hers and they clinked, then each took a sip. He wanted to say a thousand things, all the things he had said before, but instead he fell back on small talk. That was easier. Safer. “So, the wedding is next weekend, huh?”

“Saturday night on the beach. Nothing too fancy.” She grinned. “You know Darcy and Kincaid. They’d hate something all formal.”

He was looking forward to Darcy and Kincaid’s wedding, and to seeing Jillian up there as the maid of honor. A long time ago, he’d thought that he and Jillian would dance at that wedding, but….

He cleared his throat. “I’d hate something all formal, too. Can you see me in a tux and a hot church?”

“Nope. Not unless you were shooting a music video or something.” She grinned again. She dipped her gaze to the bottle in her hand. “You planning on getting married anytime soon?”

“No,” Zach said, though standing this close to Jillian, he realized that he could be planning his own wedding if he hadn’t screwed up their engagement so badly. It could have been the two of them on the beach, instead of their friends. Why had he procrastinated on setting a date? Why had he let her get away?

And why was he still letting her get away? He kept tiptoeing around, trying to get back together with her, instead of actually out-and-out asking her on a date again. He glanced over at Kincaid and the other guy, still talking about whatever was cooking on the grill, and knew if he didn’t do something soon—like now—Jillian was going to be lost to him forever. “So…what are you doing Monday night?”

Jillian’s eyes widened and she stopped her sip of beer, halfway to her mouth. “Are you…asking me out?”

“Yes. I am.” He shifted closer to her, drawing in the light floral scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin, just the mere presence of her. She had a way about her that…calmed him, simply by being close to her. He wanted that back. “Let’s start over, JillyBean. Start from scratch.”

“Zach…”

“One date, that’s all I ask. Maybe we’ll go out and find there’s nothing there to resurrect.” Uh-huh. If that kiss they’d shared was any indication, there was plenty left to resurrect. And he suspected she knew that as well as he did, which was why she hesitated in saying no.

“I…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes. That’s the only word you need.” He gave her a grin, hoping that would sway her. “Just say yes, JillyBean.”

It was what he had said to her the night he proposed. He’d dropped down on one knee, popped open the ring box, and surprised her speechless.
Just say yes, JillyBean,
he said, and she did. Now he wanted to start over again at the beginning, and maybe, just maybe, end up with the ring box and the
yes
again.

“Zach—”

Before Jillian could finish her sentence, there was a commotion at the other end of the yard, and a loud voice calling out a hello. Zach froze. He knew that voice. Knew who had arrived, without an invitation.

Keith.

“Hey, little brother!” Keith waved at Zach, and started heading his way.

Toward Jillian. A protective instinct rose in Zach’s chest. Even though it had been eight years since Jillian’s attack, and even though his brother swore he was a changed man, Zach didn’t want Keith anywhere near Jillian. And he didn’t want his brother anywhere nearby—period.

“I’ll be back,” Zach said, then cut across the lawn to Keith. To hopefully avert a disaster before it exploded in his life.

# # #

Jillian ended up in Darcy’s room,
oohing
and
ahhing
over the wedding dress Darcy had picked up at the shop downtown. It was knee-length, off-white, nipped at the waist. No lace, no beading, just plain satin that conformed to Darcy’s figure and suited her friend perfectly.

“I love it,” Jillian said. She really did love the dress, but her chest hurt to see Darcy twirling in front of the mirror.

Just say yes, JillyBean.

Zach had said those words, and Jillian had been whisked backward in time, to him perched on one knee at their spot on the back deck of The Love Shack, his face filled with earnest love, and her words caught in her throat. She’d known they would eventually get married—they had talked about it a few times and she’d even picked out a ring in a catalog that arrived with the Sunday paper—but she’d been caught off guard all the same.

A part of her had hoped for something more romantic, something that showed Zach was head-over-heels in love with her. But she also knew those crazy hot-air-balloon, thousand-roses-on-the-floor proposals didn’t ensure a long-lasting happy marriage any more than a practical discussion and catalog ring decision did.

But still…

“So, I’m thinking of wearing the neon yellow shoes,” Darcy was saying.

Jillian jerked her attention back to her friend. “Wait, what did you say? Neon yellow?”

Darcy laughed. “Just seeing if you were paying attention. You kinda zoned out there for a minute.”

“Sorry. I was just…” Jillian shrugged.

Darcy dropped onto her bed, laying the dress on the pillows. She patted the space on her other side and Jillian took a seat. “Thinking about how this would have been you if you hadn’t broken up with Zach?”

That was the best part of a best friend—they could read your mind and know just the right thing to say. “That’s just it. It wouldn’t have been me. Because he was never going to pick
a date. I had a ring and no commitment.” Jillian sighed. “Now he says he wants to try again. Start over.”

“And what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” Jillian’s gaze went to the window. Ethan was outside, talking to a couple of Kincaid’s friends. Zach had left with his brother a few minutes earlier, and Jillian told herself she was relieved because she hadn’t had to give Zach an answer. But her gaze didn’t stay on Ethan, it darted around the yard, looking for the one man who had already left.

“I really don’t know,” she said again.

“I think…” Darcy’s smile softened, “that it’s worth going out with Zach one more time. Just to be sure. I’d hate for you to get down the road and have regrets. You guys were together for eight years, and you were happy for a lot of those years, Jillian. That’s got to mean something.”

“But what if—”

Darcy put up a hand. “
What-ifs
can fill a bucket and a half, if you let them. That’s something my grandma used to say. You just have to go out there and try, and not worry about the
what-ifs
. Get the answers you need, and then move forward.”

Even if moving forward meant moving on without Zach. That was what she had wanted three months ago, but ever since that kiss—

Jillian wasn’t so sure what she wanted. Or who she wanted.

SIXTEEN

“What are you, drunk?” Zach shouted the words the second he had shut the door and was alone in his car with Keith. “What made you show up out of the blue like that?”

“I told you. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize to Jillian.”

“So you’re going to do that by parading into a party where all her friends are? Making an ass out of yourself?”

“I didn’t do that. You did. When you dragged me out of there like I was some kind of cockroach.” Keith cursed and shook his head. “What happened to you, man?”

“What happened to me? What happened to
you
? I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Zach gripped the steering wheel of the Mustang and bit off the rest of what he wanted to say. None of it was pretty and none of it was going to solve anything.

“I’m your brother,” Keith said.

“My brother was the guy I went fishing with. The guy who taught me how to ride a bike and who helped me with my math homework. This guy,” he waved at Keith, “who robs old men and beats them up isn’t anyone I know.”

There was a long moment of silence in the car, compounded by the heat. The tension was as thick as a wool blanket, suffocating them both. “Wow. Way to express your feelings,” Keith said quietly.

“What did you expect? That I’d bake you a cake and welcome you with open arms like Mom did?
You beat up my girlfriend
, Keith. Over twenty bucks. And then I…” Zach shook his head. Cursed. This was where the hurt and regret and guilt all came into play, where those emotions chased up his throat and cut off his words. “And I covered for you. Because I idolized you and I didn’t want to see you go to jail.”