Can't Get Over You (Fortune's Island, Book 2) (23 page)

He wanted to think she was wearing that because she remembered that night, too, but he was pretty sure the old clothes were a temporary choice until she changed for the wedding. Her hair was already done, curled into little ringlets that were pinned in random spots, creating this waterfall of curls that he wanted to dance his fingers across. She had on more makeup than she normally wore, with dark pink lips that begged for a kiss. “You look beautiful, Jillian.”

Jillian laughed. “I’m wearing the oldest clothes I own.”

“You could be wearing a burlap sack and you’d still look beautiful,” he said, then gestured toward the cornflower blue paint spatter. “Do you remember that night?”

She glanced down at the shirt, at the speckles of paint that trailed down the panels, dusted the denim of her shorts. “We were lucky we ever finished that room.”

“We did keep getting…sidetracked.”

“We did, indeed.” That made her smile, that soft private smile he loved. Then she cleared her throat and the smile disappeared. “You clean up pretty good, Zach. I like the shirts and pants the band is wearing tonight.”

“Thanks. I even broke out the iron for the occasion.”

She arched a brow. “You own an iron?”

“Well, Mrs. Greenbow does. I went over to her house and asked to borrow hers. She insisted on pressing my shirt and pants for me.” Zach shrugged. He liked his elderly neighbor. She’d been the first to welcome him when he moved into the apartment building across the street from her house, greeting him with a batch of fresh-baked cookies. After her husband died, Zach had taken over mowing her lawn and getting her trash to the curb. Mrs. Greenbow still made him cookies from time to time, and acted like his grandmother, which was nice, since Zach’s grandparents lived in Florida, too far to see them much anymore. He’d have mowed Mrs. Greenbow’s lawn without the cookies, but he sure wasn’t going to turn them down. “She’s always doing things to thank me, even though I tell her I’m just being a good neighbor.”

“No, you’re being a good man,” Jillian said softly. “Though it’s probably a good thing you let Mrs. Greenbow press your clothes, since I suspect you don’t know how to iron.”

“Not a clue.” He laughed. “I would have probably burned my collar and ruined my pants.”

She patted his chest, one of those friendly joking moves, but it still made his heart skip a beat. “I think you better stick to the guitar, Zach. I’ve seen your housekeeping skills.”

Before she could move away, he captured her hand. “Dance with me tonight, Jillian.”

She shook her head. “You’re part of the band. You can’t—”

“I can. Duff’s going to sing a few songs tonight. And I have a new one I wanted you to hear.” He’d written it just this week. He was still not a hundred percent happy with the melody at the end, but the words were right. And they were words he hoped Jillian heard.

She tugged her hand out of his and shook her head again. Was Duff right? Was Jillian scared, and that’s why she kept taking one step forward, two steps back with him?

“Zach, I don’t know if I want to do this again. I mean, it’s a wedding, and we’ll get all wrapped up in wedding fever and…”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“We could end up making a mistake.”

“Do you think getting back together would be a mistake?” There it was. The question he didn’t want to ask.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I don’t know anything anymore. I mean, part of me wants to say yes. To give this one more shot—”

His heart beat a little trill. That was an open window. Good enough for him. “Okay, then let’s do this.”

Just say yes, JillyBean.
He wished she could read his mind, but he saw her features shift, and the disappointment hit him before her words did.

“But part of me is terrified we’ll end up right where we left off. I don’t want to go back there, Zach. I want to move forward.” She slid her hand out of his and a stone sank in Zach’s gut. “Either way, tonight is about Darcy and Kincaid. You and I…we can wait.”

We can wait. It wasn’t a no; it was another window. For once in his life, Zach hoped the power of his music would be enough to change her mind and turn that window into an open door.

TWENTY

As far as weddings went, Darcy and Kincaid’s was almost as casual as one could be. The thirty or so guests sat on beach blankets, everyone barefoot and wearing something simple and summery while they waited for the ceremony to start. The sun was just starting to set, creating thick orange and purple stripes above the ocean.

The wedding party—Jillian, Carter, then Kincaid’s sister, Abby, followed by Darcy and Kincaid’s seven-year-old daughter Emma—came down to the beach, then took up positions on either side of the minister. Zach had his acoustic guitar and was playing a cover of Darcy and Kincaid’s favorite Coldplay song, just as Darcy and Kincaid emerged from The Love Shack and strode down the beach, hand in hand.

Darcy had on an off-white knee length dress that dipped in the front and showed off her curves. A couple of small white buds were tucked into her hair, her only concession to any kind of veil or bouquet. Kincaid had on khaki pants, the cuffs rolled up, and a white shirt with no tie. He’d unbuttoned the first couple buttons, exposing a bit of his tanned chest. They all looked happy and excited and as ready for a beach day as a wedding.

Emma ran along in front of them, scattering pink rose petals—the one job Emma had wanted when her mother told her she could be part of the wedding. When she was done, she slid in front of Jillian and cast a shy look at her feet, overwhelmed by all the people watching.

The ceremony itself was quick and simple. The minister made a brief speech welcoming everyone, then turned to Darcy and Kincaid. “I understand you two have written your own vows. Kincaid?”

From where she was standing, Jillian could see the way Kincaid smiled at Darcy. It was the kind of smile that came from somewhere deep inside of him, as if he’d taken his entire heart and put it on display.

That was what Jillian wanted. A man who looked at her like she was his…

Everything.

Wasn’t that what Zach sang to her, over and over? Had he felt that way all along and she hadn’t noticed?
Dance with me tonight, Jillian
, he’d said. Asking her, in so many words, to be his everything again.

She knew, oh how she knew, that if she danced with Zach, she would start to fall for him again. It wasn’t just the wedding fever. It was the way she felt when he touched her. The way her heart flipped and her pulse raced and everything inside her went on hyper alert.

She tore her gaze away from Darcy and Kincaid for a second and found Zach, sitting now in the very back, watching the ceremony until it was time to play the recessional song. As if he sensed her, he lifted his gaze to hers. They held, for one long second, a heartbeat.

No matter how many times Jillian told herself she didn’t have any feelings for Zach, or didn’t think they could make it work—she knew that there were a whole lot of unresolved emotions between them. It wasn’t over, not by a long shot, and had never really been.

Kincaid took Darcy’s hands in his. “I never knew what love was until I met you,” he said. “You have challenged me and loved me and made everything about my life better and brighter. I want nothing more than to build a future with you and our daughter. You are my heart, Darcy, and I am so very happy and honored to be marrying you today. I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

Normally-tough Darcy swiped away a tear. “You promised you wouldn’t make me cry today,” she whispered.

Kincaid just gave her a hapless grin.

Jillian glanced at Zach again. If they were up here right now, speaking vows to each other, what would he say to her? And why was she even imagining that? Not to mention, wondering if Zach was thinking the same thing right now. But she did. Because she heard Kincaid’s vows and they spoke of how Darcy had changed his life, made it broader and brighter. Was that how Zach felt? Or did he just want her back because he missed having someone in his life after all those years together?

“You’ve always been the man of my dreams,” Darcy was saying. “The only man I could imagine spending my life with, and the only man who can keep this wild beast corralled.”

At that, the wedding guests laughed.

“I can’t wait to start our life together, to build our family and create that future we have dreamed of. I love you, Kincaid Foster, even if you made me cry on my wedding day.”

Kincaid leaned forward and kissed Darcy, not waiting for the minister to finish his part. The guests laughed again, then the minister got back to business. “Let’s finish this wedding before we start the honeymoon, okay?”

A minute later they had exchanged rings, then a second kiss, and then Darcy and Kincaid were charging back up the beach and into The Love Shack. The guests followed behind, with Abby, Jillian, and Carter bringing up the rear. As Jillian passed Zach, back behind his guitar again and playing another Coldplay tune, she caught his eye again. His face was unreadable—she couldn’t tell if he was jealous of Darcy and Kincaid or glad it wasn’t him getting married today.

Before she was tempted to ask, Jillian tore her gaze away and headed inside the restaurant. She busied herself with helping Darcy set up for a few family pictures, while the band regrouped inside the building and waited for Zach to join them.

The restaurant burst into activity, wait staff delivering food to the tables, the band launching into the first set of songs, and the congratulations flooding Darcy and Kincaid. Jillian kept busy with Emma and chatting with the guests, trying to pretend she wasn’t affected by that wedding. That seeing her best friend marry the man of her dreams hadn’t left Jillian feeling…

Empty.

Envious.

The first songs that Zach and the band played were up-tempo, designed to get people out of their seats and dancing in the center of the room. It was easy to forget about the romantic vows and the love story unfolding in this room when it sounded like a party inside The Love Shack. Jillian could
almost
convince herself that those feelings of emptiness and envy had disappeared.

Her mother drew up alongside her and gave her daughter a quick side hug. “How are you doing, honey?”

“I’m fine. Tired. Last night, Darcy and I stayed up way too late talking. She was nervous about the wedding and just wanted to chat.”

“I meant, how are you doing with Zach being here?”

“I’m fine.” If she kept repeating those words, it meant they had to be true, right? “He said he has a special song that he wants me to hear today.”

Grace arched a brow. “He wrote another song for you?”

“Just because he wrote a song, Mom, doesn’t mean anything’s changed. I fell in love with him because of those songs, and ignored all the warning signs that said he wasn’t ready for a real commitment, or even a real relationship.” Jillian shook her head. “I can’t go through that again. It hurts too much.”

And that, right there, was the heart of everything in this rollercoaster of emotions she had about Zach. She wanted him—she’d never stopped wanting him—but she was terrified of ending up hurt again. Of falling in love because of a song and not realizing until it was too late that nothing had really changed.

“You know your father took a while to get his act together. Even went off and became a lobsterman for a little while because he was scared of settling down and thought he wanted some nomad’s life on the sea,” Grace said. “Sometimes, a man has to lose everything that matters to him before he realizes what he has.”

“Zach lost me months ago. He didn’t do anything then.”

“But he’s doing it now,” her mother said. “Don’t let your fears keep you from taking a chance on someone who could truly love you.”

And then, as if on cue, Zach stepped to the mic and cleared his throat. “I have a new song I wanted to play tonight,” he said. “This one isn’t for Darcy and Kincaid—sorry guys—it’s for Jillian.”

The rest of the room turned to look at Jillian, waiting on her reaction. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even smile. She just stood there and waited, her heart in her chest, trying hard not to fall in love again with the man she was trying so hard to forget.

“I hope you like it, JillyBean,” Zach said to her. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, hefted his guitar, adjusted it again, strummed a note, then paused, tried again. He was nervous—something she had rarely seen in Zach when he performed.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then leaned toward the microphone. His hands found the chords, and as the music flowed, Zach began to sing. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Too many to count. But letting you go…that was the biggest mistake of all. And now my songs have lost their music, my notes have lost their sound, because I don’t have you.”

Her mother squeezed her hand. “He loves you, Jillian.”

“It’s just a song, Mom. Just a song.” She couldn’t pay for a wedding with a song. Couldn’t get a mortgage with a song. Couldn’t depend on anything when it was based on a song. But her throat was tight and her eyes burned and her heart was a trembling, fragile thing in her chest as Zach sang. “I have to get out of here.”

She spun on her heel and rushed to the kitchen, cutting through the small room and out the side door that led to the deck. The sun had set, and the world outside was deep purple, but she could still see the ocean, whooshing in and out, whispering against the sand. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning cracked over the Atlantic. There was a storm rolling in and chances were good it would be here before the reception was over.

Zach kept on singing. She tried not to listen, but the words came through the open windows and caught in the warm evening air. Out here, alone on the deck, Zach’s song seemed to wrap around her heart. She closed her eyes and gripped the railing, let the words come, let her heart open one more time.

“You are my song, and I can’t sing it without you,” he crooned. “My songs have lost their music, my notes have lost their sound, because I don’t have you.”

How she wanted to believe him, wanted to open that door again. But he was still living the life he had before—barely making a living, driving a car he couldn’t afford, and hanging his hat on a dream that may never come true.