Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2) (18 page)

“I ended up sending myself there.”

“Good.” Zach let out a gust. “You needed a wakeup call. You were being an asshole.”

There. He’d said it. He really didn’t care if it pissed Keith off and his older brother never spoke to him again. It was about damned time someone was honest with Keith, instead of treating him like he had an extra birthday this year.

Keith drew in a breath, then let it out in one long sigh. “Yeah, I was. And I didn’t see that or get it until I was already in for two years. Then I started going to AA meetings and talking about my feelings and shit.”

Some of that tough-guy persona that had probably been a defense mechanism in prison bled through Keith’s words. But underneath that sarcastic tone, Zach could hear regrets in his brother’s voice. His attitude toward Keith softened. “I’m glad you did.”

Keith turned in the seat and faced Zach. “Me, too. I know I was an asshole back then. And I’m sorry. I’m gonna spend the rest of my life paying for that and trying to make it up to people. Coming into the party and making a big deal like that probably wasn’t the best way to do it but…shit, I don’t know how to apologize and make amends and get back to my life all at
the same time.” He let out a long breath. “I just don’t know how to do that, man. You’re the one who’s nice to everyone, and everyone loves you. Shit, even old Mr. Florence next door came up to me and asked about you before he said hello. People like you, Zach. Me, I got a ways to go and I don’t know how to make that leap.” He paused, drummed his fingers on the armrest for a second. “What would you do?”

Zach heard naked honesty in Keith’s voice, the kind that came from being scared and unsure. And the biggest irony of all? The brother that Zach had looked up to and admired for so long was now the one who needed him. Who was looking to his little brother for advice and help.

“You start with being honest,” Zach said, and he realized as he said those words, that he hadn’t been honest with Jillian. He’d kept secrets from her, thinking he was protecting her, when really, all he was doing was building a wall between them. “You gotta go right up there and admit you were wrong and apologize.”

Keith scoffed. “Easier said than done. In prison, I’d get my ass whipped for something like that. The rules there are all upside-down. You never apologize, never back down, never admit you’re scared.”

“Well, you’re not in prison anymore,” Zach said. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. There was more bone and muscle there than Zach remembered, as if every inch of Keith had toughened up behind bars. But in his brother’s eyes, he could still see a trace of the guy he remembered. “You’re home now.”

Keith met his gaze. “Am I?”

Zach nodded, because his throat was thick and his eyes were burning. “Yeah, Keith, you are.”

# # #

Ethan pulled up in front of Jillian’s apartment building and shut off the car. The day was drawing to a close, as the sun began to set and the heat of the day waned. Even after an entire day in the sun, Ethan still looked as fresh and pressed as he had when he’d picked Jillian up, while she felt like a limp, sweaty dishrag.

He draped an arm over the back of her seat and turned to face her. “You seemed a little quiet today.”

“Just a lot on my mind. Helping Darcy get ready for the wedding and all that.”

“It wasn’t seeing your ex-fiancé at the party?” He let out a breath. “Yes, I saw him there. Even though Kincaid did his best to keep me focused elsewhere.”

So it had been more obvious than she thought. No wonder Ethan had seemed distant today. “Zach lives on the island. We have lots of the same friends. It’s inevitable that we’d end up at the same event at some point.”

“Seems he’s everywhere you go. At work, on the side of the road, at the barbecue.”

That made her bristle. Did Ethan think she was running into Zach on purpose? And after only a handful of dates—and no promise of commitment or anything serious—why did Ethan think he had a right to question her? “You don’t seriously think that because Zach and I see each other at work, that it’s part of some bigger plan for us to get back together?”

“For a guy you broke up with, he sure seems to be around a lot.” Ethan shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but Jillian could read the tension in his shoulders. “I’m just saying, it’s weird. If you’re not interested in him at all, fine, no big deal if we run into him. But if you are still thinking about dating him again, tell me now. I’ll back off and let you two…do whatever it is you’re going to do.”

“Is this really going to be about me and Zach?” she said, rather than answering the question. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Zach had asked her out today, then they’d gotten interrupted before she could answer. Would she have said yes? A part of her still wanted an opportunity to see if the changes she’d witnessed in Zach were here to stay. Another part was throwing up a giant red caution flag. WARNING: BEEN HERE BEFORE, DON’T REPEAT PAST MISTAKES.

“Because I thought you and I had a nice time today,” Jillian went on, “and I’m not really in the mood for discussing the guy I broke up with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Ethan’s hand dropped down and his fingers played with a loose tendril of her hair. “You’re too pretty to fight with anyway.”

She could feel a blush fill her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Yet at the same time, she could sense he was waiting for her to invite him up. They’d had three dates, after all, and wasn’t that the custom? The three-date rule? But Jillian had yet to find anything to say beyond
nice
to describe Ethan’s kisses, and the thought of sleeping with him didn’t make her want to run off to her bedroom. Maybe it was all the interaction with Zach. The unresolved feelings that liked to insert themselves when she least expected it.

Or she was just crazy. That was totally an option. Given that Ethan was smart, successful, funny, and handsome. And she was pretending to yawn so she could have an excuse to not invite him up. “It’s been a long day,” she said. “Thanks for driving me home.”

His hand slid down to rest behind her neck. He shifted closer. “Anytime,” he murmured, then he leaned in for a kiss.

She returned the kiss, waiting for the magical electricity to arc between them. Waiting for her body to go
yes, yes
,
more, more
. But none of that happened, and she had to wonder—

Was it Ethan? Or was it her?

She drew back and gave him a smile. “I hate to call it an early night, but I have to get in to work for a few hours. I don’t get off until after one, and then I have an early morning tomorrow, so….”

Ethan’s face fell and his hand dropped away. “Are you sure? I can’t talk you into a quick nightcap after work?”

“Tomorrow night. Okay?” She was just delaying the inevitable decision, but maybe by then her head would be cleared of all this Zach stuff and she could give Ethan the attention he deserved.

He leaned in and kissed her again, a shorter, lighter kiss. “All right, but I’m holding you to that promise.”

“See you tomorrow, Ethan,” she said, then slipped out of the car and into her building before she changed her mind. Ethan lingered in his car for a moment, then pulled away. She didn’t feel disappointed. More…relieved.

Jillian unlocked her empty apartment, and tossed her purse on the table by the door. Her cell rang just as she was getting ready to shower. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?” she said.

“It’s a slow night tonight,” her father said. “Carter came in to work and has it all under control, so if you want the rest of the night off, it’s good with me.”

“That’s great. Are you sure?”

“Yup. See you tomorrow, honey.”

She ended the call with her father, then headed straight for the shower, peeling off her clothes as she went. The hot water hit her body like a balm, and the scent of cocoa butter and she a body wash filled the air. She kept her face under the warm stream for a long time after she’d
rinsed out the shampoo and conditioner, as if answers could come from a Waterpik showerhead. They didn’t.

Jillian turned off the water, then wrapped a towel around her body. She drew a comb through her hair, slathered on a little moisturizer, then paused when she heard the doorbell. She tightened the knot on her towel, then padded down the hall. She figured it might be Darcy, stopping by for a quick drink. Or maybe Mrs. Pederson across the hall, looking for her newspaper that she had probably already read and forgotten she recycled.

But it was neither of those people. On the other side of the peephole stood Zach, wearing the same T-shirt and shorts he’d had on earlier. Looking a little rumpled, a little sweaty, and a little uncomfortable. The complete opposite of pressed, neat Ethan, who never seemed to even break a sweat. Jillian hesitated, but then Zach turned and she saw his eyes, round and worried. Her heart clenched, and before she could think twice, she was opening the door—

And forgetting she was only wearing a towel. “Zach. What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” Then his gaze dipped and he noticed her wet hair, the towel. She was very, very aware that she had nothing on under the little scrap of terrycloth. “Uh, unless you’re busy.”

“No, no, I’m not at all. Come on in and I’ll…get dressed.”

He stepped across the threshold and into her apartment. She was still holding the door, intending to shut it, but not realizing that doing so meant Zach would be close, very close. And she wasn’t wearing much of anything at all. Her entire being remembered what it was like to make love to him, how very sweet and tender and sexy and wonderful that was—and would be—and how very much she still wanted him.

The electricity she’d been missing earlier with Ethan roared between her and Zach, filling the few inches of space separating them. Her heart raced, her pulse rushed, and a deep aching spread through her veins.

His gaze dipped again, then rose to her eyes, and she knew he was as hyper-aware of her, of how close they were, as she was. “I…I probably shouldn’t be here. You’re…well, naked.”

“I have a towel on.” But it didn’t feel like much between them, and she was extremely aware that all she had to do was let go and the terrycloth would fall to the ground.

“True. But I know what you look like underneath that towel and in about five seconds, I’m going to forget why I came over here.”

She knew she should go inside her room and throw on a snowsuit or a caftan or something suitably unsexy that would diffuse the tension between them. But all she could think about was how she was sitting in a car with a man who should be Mr. Right just ten minutes ago and feeling zero sparks of desire. Then Zach walked into her apartment and her hormones went on high alert, and every inch of her craved his touch. His smile. Him.

She knew that when he made love to her, he would take his sweet time, kissing along every inch of her, as if he was worshipping her. He was the kind of man who gave more than he took in bed, and she liked that. A lot. She’d missed that.

A real lot.

And that, she realized, was what she had intentionally been forgetting. She kept telling herself that she had done all the giving in her relationship with Zach, when really, that wasn’t how it had been. Zach had loved her, and shown her in his own ways. Ways that melted her heart to this day. So maybe he didn’t open up about his career. Maybe he hadn’t made the best financial decisions, but in the dark, when it was just them…

He had been sweet and tender and wonderful. And every single inch of her yearned for that again.

“Me being naked makes you forget?” she said, her voice flirty, light. Because she didn’t want him to know how much she was forgetting in this moment, too. Forgetting they were over. Forgetting she had vowed to move on.

“Being around you, period, makes me forget.” He swallowed, and let out a long breath. He lifted his gaze to hers, and in his dark brown eyes, she saw regret, desire, need. “God, Jillian, you are beautiful. I still want you. I never stopped wanting you.”

His voice broke on the last few syllables, in a vulnerable, gruff way that erased whatever resolve Jillian had been clutching. He still loved her—she could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. For all her bluster and determination to stay away, she knew she still loved him, too. Missed him like she had cut off a part of herself. She wanted, no, needed, to be in his arms, to hear him whisper her name, to feel him enter her and hold her.

And just like that, as if they’d never broken up, she released the towel and let it tumble to the floor. “Then show me, Zach.”

SEVENTEEN

Zach had gone to Jillian’s to tell her the truth about his brother. Truly, that had been his intention. He’d realized that if he told her the truth, wiped the slate clean, maybe then they could really start over. But when he’d seen her in that towel, his brain went into total Man Mode and he forgot the entire reason he was there. Hell, he forgot his own name. All he knew, all he saw, was Jillian.

And when she dropped the towel—

That was all the invitation he needed. He scooped her up into his arms, and when she settled her head against his chest, Zach knew what it was like to hit the lottery. They might not be back together, and this might just be one of those rebound with the ex things, but he wasn’t going to let her go one second earlier than he had to. Because having Jillian against him, when he’d thought he’d never hold her again, was his definition of heaven on earth.

Zach carried her down to her bedroom, his mouth locked on hers, kissing her, tasting her, thinking he was the luckiest damned man in the world. He didn’t need to look to see where he was going; he still remembered the path past her furniture, and the slight jog around her dresser when he got inside the room. She still had twelve thousand pillows on her bed, and when he laid her on the thick comforter, a quartet of those pillows tumbled onto the floor.

The soft light from her bedside table warmed her skin and kissed it with gold. Beautiful wasn’t even enough of a word to describe her, and for a second, he wished he was a writer or a professor, someone who would have a vocabulary big enough to describe how amazing Jillian was. Something he hadn’t appreciated until after she was gone from his life.