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

That was part of what had pushed her to enroll at the Conservatory. She’d needed new faces, new places, new memories. A world that didn’t center around Zach. The only problem?
Going to a music school to forget about dating a musician was pretty much the most masochistic thing she could have done.

“Jillian, just get in the car,” Zach said. His dark hair was a little long, dusting along the collar of his T-shirt. She almost reminded him to make an appointment with Saul, the island barber. When they’d been dating, Zach would get so involved with his music that he’d forget to eat, or forget to shave. She used to think it was cute that she had to remind him to get a haircut. But eventually she realized it just meant his music was more important than anything else. Including her.

“Come on,” he said now. “I’ll give you a ride to work.”

He hadn’t answered her point about moving on. Because he already had? Or because he hadn’t listened? And why did she care? They were over, done, and just because seeing his face made her heart hurt, didn’t mean she was getting back together with him anytime soon.

“I don’t need anything from you, Zach.” She repeated the words for herself as much as for him. “Not anymore.”

Then she broke into an even faster run, praying he’d leave her be and just keep going down the road. And at the same time praying that he wouldn’t.

# # #

Zach watched Jillian run down the road, in between swipes of his wipers. Her body would blur, then be clear, blur, clear. Sort of a metaphor for their relationship, he thought. Just when he’d thought he had everything figured out, she’d dropped that bombshell and broken off their engagement. Ever since, she’d wanted nothing to do with him, no matter how hard he tried to get her to talk to him.

To be honest, he had no idea how to fix what had gone wrong. Sure, things had been a little…stale with Jillian for the last few months, but he’d thought things were fine enough. They’d been dating so long, he figured maybe that was what happened. Isn’t that what those women’s magazine covers were always shouting from the checkout stand? Things like,
5 Quick Ways to Reignite the Fire
, or
10 Tips to Rejuvenate Your Relationship
. Maybe he should have read a few of those. Maybe it would have made a difference.

Truth be told, that staleness was part of what had paralyzed him when it came to setting a date for their wedding. It was as if putting an engagement ring on her finger had changed everything and turned them into something dull, predictable. Reading the newspaper on Sunday mornings and watching
CSI
on Tuesday nights and having the same conversations about the same topics, day after day. All of the fun they’d had when they’d first met eight years ago had slowly evaporated, like a slow leak in a tire.

He’d told himself their breakup was for the best, but then every time he saw her, something ached deep inside of him. Like he’d lost an arm or a leg. He’d roll over at night and find a cold, empty space in his bed. Pick up his phone and see no messages, no texts. Walk into The Love Shack to play his set, and she’d be turned away, talking to someone else, barely noticing him the entire night. The more time passed, the worse it got, as if his heart was slow to realize what he had lost.

And now, she was doing this stubborn thing, running in the rain, instead of riding with him. He kept the car at a crawl, staying right behind her, but she never slowed, never even looked back, even though the rain was almost a straight sheet down on her.

Ah, Jillian. So stubborn and beautiful. The only woman he had ever met who could call him on his bullshit.

She’d known everything about him—well, almost everything. Maybe if he’d been more honest with her from day one, things would have been different. But it was as if he had dug a hole the first time he’d met her, and instead of climbing out of it, he’d just dug deeper. Some psychiatrist would probably say the lies he had told had built a wall between them, one that slowly eroded whatever foundation they’d had. Zach was pretty sure that was all bullshit, but still…he wondered. And regretted.

Jillian kept up her steady pace, ignoring his car behind her. God, she was beautiful, even when she was pissed. Lean and fit, with caramel colored hair and dark green eyes. Jillian had a smile that could turn him inside out. It had been a long damned time, though, since she’d smiled at him like that.

He thought of her hands, of the gentle touch she had, the way she could calm him and thrill him, all at once. That was what he’d noticed first about her, when he’d met her all those years ago. Her hands, delicate yet strong, holding an ice cream cone.

He’d been on Fortune’s Island on spring break with his parents, the one and only family vacation the Giffords had ever taken. The vacation itself had been a mistake almost from the start. Fights and recriminations, slammed doors and silent treatments—all Zach wanted to do was escape. His older brother Keith had found a group of teens on the northern part of the island, and only returned to the rental cottage to change his clothes or grab a bite to eat. That had left Zach to fend for himself.

He’d gone to the ice cream shop downtown and seen Jillian sitting at the counter, holding a double scoop chocolate cone. Seventeen-year-old Zach thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. She’d been laughing with a girlfriend, her laughter bold and brash and intoxicating.

It took him a week to work up the courage to talk to her. He’d seen her again at the beach, playing volleyball. Like a dork, he used the excuse of retrieving a wayward ball as a reason to go up to her. She laughed when he said something about the way she spiked it, and then she smiled. The next thing he knew, he was blurting out, “Will you go out with me?”

That was it. He’d been hooked ever since. They’d been inseparable that summer, then did the across-the-bay distance thing with phone calls and letters and occasional visits before he made the move over to the island a couple years later. It had taken him some time doing construction and landscaping work before he’d finally landed a regular gig with the band. Finally had some money in his pocket—enough to buy Jillian an engagement ring. Her surprised, breathy
yes
had been the best word he’d ever heard. He’d thought they would last forever. Turned out they had an expiration date.

Eight years together, and wham, she was done with him.

Zach slowed the car and rolled down the window. Rain fell inside and puddled on the leather seat. “Jillian, please let me give you a ride. We can talk, like we used to.”

She shook her head. “We didn’t used to talk. That was half the problem.”

“Then let’s talk now. We can—”

“Stop, Zach. Just stop.” The entrance for The Love Shack appeared before them. Jillian shook her head, then turned down the drive for the restaurant and sprinted inside.

Zach parked in the lot, but didn’t turn off the Mustang right away. The rain pounded on the roof of his car, keeping the beat with the classic rock playing on the stereo. He had no reason to be at The Love Shack tonight. It was a Tuesday, a slow night, which meant the band wasn’t needed. He should get out of here, run over to practice at Duff’s house. The Outsiders had been together for three years now, and they were just starting to hit their stride. A lot of good things
were coming on the horizon, things Zach had put together, and things he wanted to share with Jillian.

But she wasn’t his anymore. Wasn’t there to listen to his stories or cheer him up when a gig fell through or the band squabbled. He missed her, damn it.

Another car pulled in the lot and an older couple who came in almost every night for the early bird specials got out. The gray-haired husband unfurled an umbrella, then wrapped an arm around his wife and the two of them headed inside, arm in arm. For a second, Zach wondered if that was how Jillian and he would have been, forty, fifty years down the road. If she hadn’t broken up with him, that is. Zach lingered a little longer, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, debating.

The rain didn’t stop, and Jillian didn’t come back out, and nothing changed. Zach told himself it was about time he stopped thinking about the impossible and started concentrating on the future. A future that didn’t contain Jillian Matheson. Not anymore.

He put the car in gear and headed out of the lot. Once, he checked the rearview mirror to see if she’d come outside after all, but the rain had obscured his view. Again.

TWO

“You look like something the cat dragged in, then regurgitated on the Oriental rug,” Darcy said when Jillian came into the restaurant.

“I feel like one, too.” Jillian had been on time for work, but was drenched to the bone, and half upset that Zach hadn’t followed her inside. What did she expect? That he’d make some grand gesture to get her back? She’d waited three months for him to do that, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to. She needed to move on, forget him.

Darcy grabbed a sweatshirt from the hook by the door, and pressed it into Jillian’s hands. “Here. It’s one of mine.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. What are friends for?” Darcy grinned. Blonde and brash, Darcy had been Jillian’s best friend for nearly seven years, as well as the other main waitress at The Love Shack. Most nights, working with Darcy hardly seemed like work at all. There were impromptu dance-offs, risqué jokes, and a constant patter of banter that kept the nights from dragging. And now,
with Darcy’s wedding to Kincaid a little over a week away, Jillian was filling the role of maid of honor.

Jillian had worked at The Love Shack for as long as she could remember, starting out as a helper to her mother in the kitchen, sitting on a tall stool to scrub vegetables or peel potatoes. When she turned sixteen, she’d moved to bussing tables, then waitressing. There were days when she dreamed of a life outside of The Love Shack, and other days when she couldn’t imagine being anywhere but here. Especially since she got to work with her best friend every day.

“I’m glad we at least get to see each other at work,” Darcy said. “You’re never around anymore for lazy mornings on the beach or gargantuan lunches at the Boardwalk Café.”

“Sorry. I’ve been hooked on
Breaking Bad.
” Jillian grinned, hoping her lie wouldn’t show through. She felt bad, but she still wasn’t ready to tell anyone about music school. What if it didn’t work out? What if she changed her mind, or failed, or quit? “Every free minute I get, I’m watching a few more episodes. I’m totally hooked on what Walt is going to do next.”

“I hear you. I’ve been binging on
Dexter
after I get home from work. Thank God for Netflix, right?” Darcy glanced out the window. “I hope the rain stops. Otherwise, we’ll end up twiddling our thumbs all night.”

“What happened to the sunny day the weatherman predicted?” Jillian brushed the worst of the water off her hair and clothes and onto the floor, then slid her arms into the sweatshirt and zipped the front. It eased the chill.

“Since when has the weatherman gotten anything right? I swear, they just throw a dart at a board and let that be the prediction for the day.” Darcy mocked doing just that. “Hmm…landed on the picture of the sun. I’m predicting a sunny day with zero chance of rain.”

Jillian laughed. “That sounds about right.”

“Those darn weathermen never get it right,” Harry Winslow said. He and his wife Edith sat in the corner window booth every single night, ordered the early bird special, and left before five. They were as predictable as sunrises, and almost as nice.

“The weathermen have a hard job, dear,” Edith said. She patted Harry’s hand. “And no one remembers when they’re right. Only when they are wrong.”

“True.” He grinned at her. “What’d I do to get so lucky, marrying a wise woman like you?”

“Had a single moment of sanity.” Edith laughed, then her fingers curled around Harry’s and held tight.

That, Jillian realized, was what she wanted. A love that lasted decades, that was steady and sure.

“So, how’d you end up walking to work in this mess?” Darcy asked as the two of them moved through the room, doing a final pre-dinner crowd check.

“My car died. A mile from work. In the pouring rain.”

“You should have called, I would have picked you up.”

“Cell died, too. I forgot to charge it again.” Jillian put up a hand before Darcy could start another familiar refrain of
you should have
. “I know, I know. I’ll get one of those charger thingies for Sylvia next week.” There were a thousand other things Jillian should have done months ago. Like find a job where she didn’t have to run into Zach four days a week.

“Promise? If you don’t, guess what I’m getting you for your birthday.”

Jillian laughed again. “I promise. Now, let’s get these tables pushed together. The Drummonds are coming in with a party of fourteen at four thirty.”

Her mother came hurrying out of the kitchen, beelining for Jillian. “Oh my word, what happened to you?” Grace gathered her daughter into a tight hug, heedless of Jillian’s wet clothes. “My goodness, you are chilled to the bone. Come on in the back. I have some towels in the kitchen.”

Jillian leaned into her mother’s embrace. She might be almost twenty-six, but there were days when it still felt good to see her mom and dad every day. To have that support system around her. Today was definitely one of those days. “Thanks, Mom.”

Her parents had moved to Fortune’s Island over two decades ago, then opened The Love Shack when Jillian was in elementary school. They’d turned their love of food and people into a viable business. It wasn’t making anyone rich, and probably never would, but her parents said the restaurant paid enough to cover the bills and still give them time to go fishing in the slow season. And, her father would always add, with a loving look at Grace, “It gives us every day together, and that can’t be measured by any paycheck.”

Her parents might be sappy, but they were still in love, and that gave Jillian hope that maybe someday she could find something just as wonderful for herself. She’d thought she had that with Zach…

But, no.

A man who really loved her, her mother had always said, would weather any storm, climb any mountain, to be with her. Zach had been gone at the first sign of thunderclouds.