Falling For Zoe (The Camerons of Tide's Way #1) (4 page)

Chapter 6

“WHERE DO YOU think you’re going dressed like that?” Jake demanded, his voice harsher than he’d intended.

Ava jerked to a stop with her bicycle half out of the rack. She wore a skirt made with less material than the handkerchief in Jake’s back pocket. She balanced on precariously high-heeled boots that came up to her knees. The neckline of her blouse was unbuttoned far enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination. And if that wasn’t enough to set his dad-radar humming, the heavy application of makeup was. The contrast between Zoe’s simple pink dress and Ava’s outrageous outfit couldn’t have been more stark. His daughter looked like a hooker.

Ava finished backing the bike out of the rack and turned to face Jake with a look of defiance on her face. “I’m going to the park.” She shoved a bulging soft-sided cooler bag under the rattrap on the back of the bike. “For a picnic.”

Jake did his best to control the angry outrage bubbling up inside him. “Not dressed like that, you aren’t.”

Ava walked the bike toward the street.

“Ava, we need to talk.”

“Daddy!” Ava shoved one hip out in a posture of exasperation. The blouse and skirt parted to reveal a smooth expanse of abdomen with something glittering in her navel. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. It can’t.”

Father and daughter glared at each other for several long moments. Then finally, Ava jerked the kickstand down and set the bike on it. She faced him with her hands on her hips and her chin thrust out. She was pushing his buttons, and it felt like she was doing it on purpose. What had happened to the sweet, innocent girl Ava had been just a few short months ago?

“Were you going to tell me you were going out if I hadn’t asked?”

“You were standing right there. I didn’t think I needed to tell you I was going out.”

“And you didn’t think you should ask permission? Or at least tell me where you planned to go and when you expected to return?”

“I’m not a little kid anymore, Daddy.” Ava frowned. “And it’s Sunday. I don’t have homework or anything.”

“The fact that you
aren’t
a little kid anymore is what worries me.”

Ava began tugging on her clothing as if she’d suddenly realized its skimpiness might be the real source of his objection. She pulled the neckline of the blouse together, but her efforts did nothing for the shortness of the skirt.

“You never used to care if I went for a ride on my bike,” Ava argued in what she probably thought was a reasonable tone, but actually came across as a little defensive and a lot secretive. Jake’s suspicions were confirmed.

“That was before you started seeing Travis.”

“What’s Travis got to do with it?”

“Everything, and don’t play dumb.”

Ava pressed her mouth into a straight, hard line. “So, I’m meeting Travis? What of it?”

Jake surveyed her clothing, or lack of it, with deliberate thoroughness. “Do you have any idea what that getup will do to Travis when he sees you?”

“Everyone dresses like this.” Ava had the grace to color slightly, but her face took on an even more defiant glare.

“I don’t really care what everyone is wearing,” Jake bit out angrily. “But my daughter is not going anywhere dressed like a hooker.”

“And you know what hookers wear how? You visit them much?”

Jake clung to his temper by a thread. “I have never been with a prostitute. Not that it’s any of your business if I had, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. And Travis.”

“How is this about Travis? It’s me you’re yelling at.”

Jake closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He tempered his voice before speaking. “I’m sorry I raised my voice, but I’m your father, and it’s my job to worry about you.”

“I don’t get why you should be worried about what I wear.” Ava drummed her fingers on her thigh and smirked at him as if he were an imbecile.

“You have no idea what goes on in a young man’s head, do you? You probably think what you’ve got on is more modest than that bathing suit your mother bought you, and Travis has seen you in that, so what’s the big deal. Well, I’ll tell you what the big deal is. There’s nothing even remotely modest about that outfit. Any normal young man sees a blouse with half the buttons undone and a lot of cleavage showing, and all he can think about is how long it will take him to get all the buttons undone. Never mind that outrageous excuse for a skirt!

“Travis will have a boner that neither of you will be able to ignore the moment you show up. That’s what happens to teenage boys when girls tease them with their bodies.” The words were harshly graphic, and Jake knew it, but he didn’t know how else to get his point across. Ava needed a mother to explain this stuff. He felt so totally inadequate to the task.

A flicker of doubt crossed his daughter’s face before she looked down. When she looked up again, a look of resignation registered on her features. “So, I can’t go?”

Jake rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. If he had his way, he’d shut her up in her room until she turned twenty-one. But if he said no to a picnic in the park, he’d just give her a reason to sneak out behind his back. Like Marsha had so often done.

“You can go on your picnic.
If
you change your clothes and wipe that makeup off your face.”

Astonishment showed in Ava’s face.

“And you need to tell me where you’re going and when you plan to be home.”

“We’re going to Tibby Creek Park, and I’ll be home before dark.” Ava rushed toward him and threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Jake returned her embrace. His little girl was growing up way too fast, and it scared the daylights out of him. At least this tryst would be in broad daylight in a public park. “Better go change. Travis is probably wondering if you’re still coming.”

Ava gave him a peck on the cheek, then turned and hurried up the stairs. Jake felt like he’d dodged a bullet and wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed it.

He was still standing by her bike when Ava returned five minutes later, her face clean and young looking. She wore shorts that covered about the same territory as the skirt, but were far less provocative. Her jersey was cute rather than sexy, and the boots had been replaced with sneakers. Jake breathed a sigh of relief.

He crossed his arms and watched her mount the bike. “Before dark. I don’t need to worry about you getting run down by a careless driver either.”
Or getting hot and heavy in some shadowed out-of-the-way place where anything can happen
.

“I promise, Daddy.” And she was off, her slender legs pumping hard to make up for lost time.

Jake watched until she turned the corner and disappeared. Letting go was so hard. Ava had already had to deal with her mother’s abandonment, and he wanted to shield her from any more blows life might deal out. But she was growing up, and he was beginning to realize he couldn’t always protect her. Some things she would have to learn on her own, and he’d just have to stand by ready to catch her when she fell. But it was hard. A lot harder than he’d ever imagined it would be. He suspected Marsha would have applauded Ava’s choice of clothing. Then he wondered what Zoe might have said.

Chapter 7

WHEN THE MERRY jingle began, Zoe was unpacking linens and stacking them in the narrow closet in her bathroom. Startled by the unfamiliar sound, it took her a moment to realize it was her front doorbell. She shoved the stack of facecloths into a bare spot on the shelf and hurried down the stairs with the dogs at her heels.

Zoe shushed Scotch’s barking and pulled the door open, half expecting to see one of the girls from next door and half hoping it would be Jake instead. It was neither.

Breanna Reagan surged into the house, wrapping Zoe in an enthusiastic embrace. The dogs began a merry dance around their legs, tails wagging in welcome. Bree bent to pet each eager head before stepping back to glance around the cluttered hall. “Still unpacking? Sorry I couldn’t help over the weekend. Some friend I am!”

Zoe wiped a hand across her damp brow. “Family comes first. Was your grandmother surprised? C’mon into the kitchen. My pots and pans have gone AWOL, but everything else is unpacked, and I have a big jug of sweet tea in the fridge.”

“Gramma’s a sly one, but she put on a good show. If you didn’t know her, you’d have thought she didn’t have a clue.” Bree followed Zoe down the hall with the dogs charging ahead. “So what have you been eating? Takeout?”

“That and stuff I can stick in the microwave.” Zoe grabbed two tall glasses from the dish drainer beside the sink and the jug of sweet tea from the refrigerator and plunked them down on the island. As Bree hiked herself onto a stool, Zoe filled the glasses and claimed a stool opposite her friend. “Did you just get back? Where’s Sam? Did you drop him at school?”

Sam was Bree’s seven-year-old son, born two months after his soldier-father’s death in Iraq. Zoe was his godmother and doting, adopted aunt.

“He’s coming home with his cousins. He was going to miss a day of school anyway.” Bree grinned. “They were stopping in Kitty Hawk on the way, and Sam begged me to let him go with them so he could see the Wright Brothers’ plane. Again! A lot more interesting than riding home with boring old Mom, or sitting at a desk when he could get out of it!”

Sam loved anything that flew and vowed he was going to be a pilot when he grew up. “You’re never boring, but I suppose I can’t blame him.” Zoe chuckled.

“Has Porter been by?” Bree asked abruptly.

“I doubt Porter will ever be by,” Zoe replied, shrugging. It was almost a relief to know she wouldn’t have to see him again. Having become pregnant because she’d been seduced into carelessness on a romantic weekend by the sea, Zoe had reconciled herself to marriage with a man she didn’t love and no longer found even mildly exciting. But Porter not only hadn’t suggested marriage, he’d disowned his responsibility for her condition completely. “And I’m not sorry. Not really.”

“But the man’s going to be a father. He should face up to it and share the consequences. He should care at least a little bit.”

“Oh, he cares.” Zoe plunked her glass down and refilled it. “He cares about his career. He cares about his car. And his money. He especially cares about who he knows, and getting a partnership in my father’s firm. I was just a convenience. Only once I got pregnant, I was no longer so convenient.”

Bree shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. “The man’s a worm. He’s worse than a worm except I don’t use that kind of language. What about your father? Why isn’t he on Porter’s case? I mean, he hired the guy, and didn’t he introduce the two of you?”

“Daddy probably
is
on Porter’s case, but Daddy’s still hoping that Porter and I can be maneuvered into getting married, so he doesn’t want to come down on him too hard. Daddy’s never gotten over the fact that none of his sons wanted to become lawyers and join the firm. He figures a son-in-law is the next best thing, and Porter’s a sharp litigator. Just the kind of up-and-coming guy Daddy admires.”

Bree made a rude noise. “So I guess he hasn’t forgiven you for buying this house yet either?”

“I don’t know. He let me take my bedroom set, and he gave me my great-grandmother’s dining room table and hutch, but he’s probably figuring I’ll change my mind once I get moved in and discover that running my own household on an office manager’s salary is more than I bargained for. Of course, while the movers were loading the furniture, I had to listen to another lecture about how many couples are dying to adopt an infant. How much better off my baby would be with two parents, and how much better off I’d be without a baby at this point in my life.”

Bree tipped her head side to side. “Maybe he’ll change his mind once that baby is born, and he gets to hold it. Grandparents are funny that way.”

“I can only hope, but Daddy’s a major backer for that pregnancy counseling and adoption center. Right now, he’s still pretty adamant about me giving the baby up, and he isn’t inclined to listen to my feelings on the subject.” Zoe slid off her stool. Her father’s lack of support hurt, and she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “You have time for some lunch?”

When Bree said she did, Zoe opened the fridge to see what she had to offer. “Thanks for the fruit basket, by the way. That was so thoughtful. Unfortunately, all that’s left is the pineapple.”

“Never mind that,” Bree said, getting off her stool and pushing the fridge door shut again. “I’m taking you to Joel’s for lunch. Time I introduced you to a few of my favorite people.”

“Joel’s? Isn’t that the diner across from your condo complex? Haven’t we eaten there before?” Zoe recalled the shiny, totally out-of-character diner she’d had breakfast at the day Bree had shown her this house for the first time. Everything else in this little village fit in, even the McDonald’s in a refurbished clapboard house. “That place that looked like it could have been plucked off the streets of New York?”

“That’s Joel’s. And Joel Shaw
is
from New York, in fact. He used to own a diner on Long Island before he fell in love with coastal North Carolina and decided to move. I think the place was some kind of prefab. One day the lot was home to an abandoned fruit stand, and the next day, a shiny new diner popped up like a mushroom. Come on. Grab your purse and let’s go. We’ll drive the long way around, and I can point out places you might be interested in along the way.”

A few minutes later, Bree slowed her Honda Civic to make a right hand turn across from an ice cream parlor. “Best ice cream around,” she said, pointing. “The miniature golf place behind it one of Sam’s favorite places.” A mile or so later, she came to another intersection and pulled to a stop.

Zoe saw the old gray house with the modest McDonald’s sign that she remembered on the opposite corner. “I got a milkshake and a chicken sandwich there the other day but didn’t hang around because I was meeting the moving van at the house.”

“There’s a pizza place on the other side of the VFW hall,” Bree told her gesturing with her chin toward the far side of the intersection. “Not
great
pizza, but not bad either, if you’re in the mood or a hurry.” She turned right onto Jolee Road. Jolee Road, Zoe knew, was the main street through the little village, named after the original plantation house around which this community had grown up.

Bree slowed as she approached a fork in the road. “Abby’s Bookstore is a fun place to hang out.” She nodded to the far side of Jolee Road. “Big old fireplace with comfy chairs to curl up in, racks and racks of old books to poke though. And Abby is almost as old as the house. Well, maybe not that old, but she knows everyone. And on this side is Emmy Lou’s Antiques. Abby and Emmy Lou are best friends, and two nicer ladies you won’t ever meet. If you follow the left-hand road up to Kett’s where I work and turn left, there’s a Food Lion. But maybe you’ve already been there.”

“I have,” Zoe told her. “I sort of remembered there being one not far from where you lived, so I started at your place and poked around ’til I found it.”

Bree put the car in motion again. She pointed out the library, a low stone building opposite the common that stretched between the diverging roads. At the next fork, the shiny New York style diner appeared. Bree pulled up out front and turned her engine off. “Stay to the right here, and a couple miles further down is Grant’s Garage. You ever need work on your truck, that’s the place to go. Stu and CJ Grant are the best mechanics around.”

“Good to know,” Zoe said as she climbed from the car. “My old rattletrap is always needing work. I was thinking of getting a new car with the baby coming, maybe a small SUV, but that was when I was looking at the condo. I think I might need to spend more than I planned on fixing up the house.”

Bree opened the shiny glass and chrome door and waited for Zoe to enter. A young woman with neon-green fingernails and huge hoops in her ears grabbed two menus from a rack and beckoned them to follow without uttering a word. She sat them in a booth and promised their waitress would be with them in a jiffy.

“That girl talks like she might have to pay per word. Not like anyone else I’ve met around here, most of whom you can’t shut up once they get started.”

“She’s new,” Bree said as the girl hurried back to her stool by the door. “Maybe she’s one of Joel’s grandkids down from the big city.”

“Hey, Margie.” Bree smiled warmly as the slender, dark-haired waitress appeared. “Meet my other best friend in the world. This is Zoe Callahan, and she just moved into the old Jolee house on Awbrey Circle.”

Margie grinned at Zoe, her pencil-thin brows arched in approval. “You are soooo lucky. I just love that house. I wanted to buy it as soon as I knew it was up for sale, but Chuck said no way was he spending the rest of his life fixing up an old house.”

Zoe felt her heart contract in alarm. Margie was the second person to hint that Zoe might have jumped at a deal with more problems than solutions, and a house in need of an owner with deeper pockets than hers. But then she remembered the early morning sunlight streaming into her bedroom through the old multipaned French doors that opened onto her own private porch with a view of the Atlantic Ocean.

“I used to deliver Meals on Wheels to the old man, Awbrey Jolee the third. I loved visiting with him. He used to tell me such tales. I swear he must have made half of them up. But he grew up there, lived in that house all his life and died in the same bed he was born in. Imagine that!” Margie rattled on. “But you didn’t come in here to listen to me. What can I get you, or do you need a few minutes to decide?”

Bree shook her head and ordered the soup and sandwich combo of the day. Zoe did the same. Margie slipped the pad back into her pocket.

“I hope you’ll come out to visit me some day. I promise to be a great listener, and you can tell me all the stories.”

“Deal!” Margie stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Zoe.” Then she hurried off to place their order.

By the time their sweet potato soup and pastrami sandwiches had been consumed, Bree and Zoe had caught up on almost everything since the last time they’d been together. Almost. Margie had returned several times to check on them, but had to hurry away again because the diner had gotten busy as the lunch hour got underway.

“So, have you met the guy next door yet?” Bree folded her hands and propped her chin on them.

Zoe bit her lip and prayed Bree wouldn’t notice the sudden flush she could feel flaming in her cheeks.

“You mean Jake?” Zoe answered, trying to sound offhand.

“Of course, I mean Jake. You’re blushing.” Bree smirked. “I wondered how long it would take.”

“I—” Zoe glared at her friend. “You know Jake?”

“Not really, but I know his sister, and I’ve met him a few times. He’s single and good-looking. And . . .” Bree let the sentence hang while wagging her eyebrows at Zoe. “. . . his wife was a tramp who ran out on him a couple years ago. Maybe you can fix his broken heart.”

Zoe felt herself flushing even brighter and wished she wasn’t so transparent. “He’s also got three kids and a mother-in-law with some kind of memory issues.”

“And you’re blushing because?”

Zoe gave in. She never had been able to hide things from Bree. “He’s got the nicest eyes.” Eyes that had caught her interest the first time she’d looked into them and captured her heart the second time. At least that’s how it had felt. Zoe kept telling herself it couldn’t be love. Not really. Love at first sight only happened in novels.

Bree’s brows rose into elegant arches. “Eyes? Hmmmm! Do I detect a romance already?”

Zoe sighed with regret. “Not likely. He’s definitely good to look at. And he invited me to dinner my first night in the house. But I don’t think he’s interested. And if he isn’t interested now, he’s hardly likely to get that way once he finds out I’m pregnant. I mean, he’s got three kids already. If he’s looking for love, I should think he’d be looking for someone without all the baggage. Someone who isn’t going to be big as a whale in a few months.”

“Pregnancy is only temporary.” Bree dropped her hands into her lap and leaned closer. “So tell me everything.”