Falling For Zoe (The Camerons of Tide's Way #1) (6 page)

Chapter 10

ZOE WAS UP TO her elbows in dishwater when she heard the knock at the door.
Please, God, don’t let it be Jake
, she thought as she wiped her hands on a towel. She made an effort to pull the escaped strands of hair that curled wildly about her face back into her elastic. She felt hot, tired, and frumpy, and not in the mood for company.

Her conversation with Ava had gotten her down, remembering all the lost years of her growing up. And the boy next door she’d been so madly in love with who, it turned out, only wanted to grope her when her brothers weren’t watching. And the fact that her father had never had to worry about her dating because no one had ever asked her out. That definitely wasn’t going to be Ava’s problem. She was pretty as a picture, as Zoe’s grandmother would have said. Jake was going to have to fight them off.

Zoe pulled the door open before thinking to look through the peephole. Jake stood on her porch looking tanned, muscular, and amazingly sexy in cargo shorts and a dress shirt with the collar open and the cuffs turned up. As her body reacted to all that undisguised masculine charisma, Zoe sucked in a ragged breath.

“J—” She swallowed and tried again. “Jake? What’s up?”

“I came over to thank you. Can I come in?” He bent to pat the eager heads jostling for space around his legs.

“Sure.” Zoe stepped back to leave him room, but the front hall had suddenly shrunk. “I was, um . . . I was just washing the dishes.” She twisted the dishtowel in her hands and wished she could act her age instead of like a tongue-tied teenager.

“Don’t you have a dishwasher?”

He was definitely standing too close. Zoe edged toward the kitchen and bumped into Jet, stumbled, caught herself, and just managed to cut off the curse that rose to her lips. “I do, but when I turn it on, no water comes into it. I haven’t had time to call a repairman.” She pushed past the dogs and moved into the kitchen.

“I can look at it for you,” Jake offered, following her through the door. “Might be something simple.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Why not? You took my daughter shopping and got her rigged out in some really decent gear without breaking the bank. I owe you.”

Jake squatted in front of the dishwasher and turned a dial. Scotch immediately put two paws on Jake’s knee while Jet took advantage of Jake’s proximity to lick his face. Jake laughed, fended off the dogs, and pushed the dishwasher door firmly closed. He put his ear to the front panel. “Hmm!” He leaned sideways, going down onto one knee, opened the door beneath the sink, and peered into the gloom underneath it.

“Jet, come here!” Zoe called the dog away when she would have stuck her head under the sink with Jake’s.

“Found your problem. I think.” Jake reached in, and Zoe marveled at the play of muscles beneath the crisp white shirt. He did something beyond her line of vision, then backed out. “I wish all my problems were that easy.”

Water began flowing into the dishwasher. “How’d you do that?”

“There’s a valve under the sink, and it was turned off for some reason. Might be because the dishwasher leaks, so keep an eye on it. If you see water creeping out onto the floor, turn it off again. C’mere.” He crooked his finger and directed her to come closer.

Close enough for her to see what he wanted to show her was too close for her libido. Now she could smell his aftershave and the clean masculine scent of him. She swallowed and tried to concentrate on what Jake was explaining.

“Just turn this to the right if you see any water where it shouldn’t be.” He pointed to the valve in question, and his arm brushed against her breast.

Zoe’s body immediately ran amok.
I’m having hot flashes. I’m too young for hot flashes. God, he smells good! I’m as bad as Travis, for Pete’s sake!

Jake turned away from the mysteries under the sink and smiled at her. His mouth was less than a foot away, and it looked very kissable. Zoe licked her lips. Jake stood abruptly and leaned back against the sink with both hands gripping the edge of the counter.

Slowly, Zoe got control of herself and straightened as well, being careful to move away as she did.
I’m shameless. I barely know the man, and all I can think about is kissing him
. She pushed herself up onto a stool beside the breakfast bar.
He came to talk about Ava. He clearly isn’t as attracted to me as I am to him, and this is getting embarrassing
.

Which thought immediately brought her last discussion with Ava to mind, and the troubling tidbit of information Ava had inadvertently let slip. The fact that Travis had tried to convince Ava to have sex and been turned down. Should she tell Jake, or keep the confidence and hope Ava would tell him herself? Little chance of that, Zoe supposed. Not that she would have told her father such a thing either. Good grief! The very idea made her shudder.

“I had a nice time shopping with Ava. She’s a great kid, you know. You must be really proud of her.” Zoe was babbling, but couldn’t stop herself. Jake just stood there, braced against her sink, not saying anything.

Jake couldn’t think what to say. Zoe was telling him something about Ava, but all he could think about was Zoe’s mouth and how much he wanted to kiss it.
I gotta get out of here before I do something I can’t take back
.

Jake jerked toward the door, then realized he hadn’t acknowledged anything Zoe had said. “I, ah . . . yeah, I am proud of her.” Now that the kitchen island stood between them, he felt safer. He relaxed and remembered what he’d come for. “Actually, Ava’s the reason I came over.”

Zoe leaned one hip against the island and looked at him with a puzzled expression in her hazel eyes—eyes that were surrounded by the thickest lashes he’d ever seen. Rich dark lashes, much darker than her red-gold hair. They made her eyes look big and vulnerable. And perfect in her heart-shaped face with the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

“What about Ava? I mean, other than that she’s a great kid?” Zoe prompted.

Jake pulled away from the doorjamb and perched on a stool on the opposite side of the island.

“I don’t know how much Ava told you about her mom.” Jake folded his arms and rested them on the worn chopping block surface.

“A little. Ava said she left without saying goodbye a couple years ago. That must have been hard for everyone, not just Ava.”

Jake shrugged. He wasn’t here to talk about himself. “Sometimes I think I’m doing pretty good with her. Ava, I mean. Then we have a scene, and I feel like I’m missing something. She accuses me of not caring how she feels, but it’s not that I don’t care. Maybe I care too much.” He shrugged. “I guess I just don’t always understand. I try, but . . . but I’m just her father, so maybe I’ll never understand. I don’t know.”

“Well, she’s just a kid, so she probably doesn’t get where you’re coming from either. Kind of makes you even. But unless you tell her how you
feel
, she can’t guess.”

The emphasis Zoe put on the word
feel
made Jake uneasy. “But I do tell her how I feel. I tell her I love her all the time, and I tell her I’m proud of her, too.”

“Okay, so maybe that was the wrong way to put it.” Zoe pulled her lower lip in and bit it, obviously mulling over what to tell him. “Ava and I have been through a similar experience. An experience that makes us different. We talked about how being the oldest is hard sometimes even when your mom is still around. But when she’s not, it’s even harder. You really just want to be a kid instead of having to fill in for a missing parent. We talked about how that changed our lives and made us different from our peers. But that’s only part of what’s bothering her. She just feels like she’s growing up, and you don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it?” Astonishment at this accusation hit him like a slap in the face. “Did you see what she was wearing the other day? Sweet Jesus! If I hadn’t noticed before, there was no way I could have missed the fact that she’s growing up in that rig. I wanted to wrap her in a blanket and hustle her back into the house before anyone saw her.”

“That’s the point I’m trying to make. Ava wants the world to notice she’s becoming a woman, and you want to pretend she’s not.”

“But you can’t mean I should let her dress like that?” Jake gasped for breath at the outrageous suggestion.

Zoe reached across the island and placed a hand atop of his. A zing of current ripped through him. His instinct was to yank his hand away, but the soft warmth of hers felt too good. He resisted the equal temptation to turn his hand over and close his fingers around hers.
Friends don’t hold hands, chump!

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Zoe’s voice was as gentle as her hand. “You were right to send her back to change. But you need to make it abundantly clear that you not only notice that she’s growing up, but that you’re proud of the woman she’s becoming. Treat her more like an equal when you can. She’s taken on a lot of adult responsibility around your house, and in a lot of ways, she is more adult than child. Let her be a partner some of the time instead of Daddy’s little girl. And especially notice the things she does all by herself that don’t need direction from you. Like being a good student and being conscientious about her homework. Thank her for taking the initiative when she does something you didn’t ask her to do. Would that be so difficult?”

Jake shook his head. It felt like a lecture, but he’d asked for her advice. “I guess not.” Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from Zoe’s and stood up. “I am proud of her, you know. She’s a really great kid.”

“Young woman,” Zoe corrected.

“A young woman,” Jake repeated dutifully. Ava was his baby. Like Marsha had been someone’s baby once. And look what had happened to her. Zoe might be right about treating Ava differently now she was nearly grown up, but damn it! Ava would always be his baby in his heart. He didn’t want her getting knocked up by some randy teenager with more hormones than good sense. And he should know better than most fathers just how easily that could happen.

“I think you might be surprised by her views on sex, too.”

Mother of God! Could this woman read his mind?
The telltale heat of embarrassment surging into Jake’s cheeks made him feel vulnerable, but he swallowed his pride and asked, “What
are
her views on sex? Obviously she’s shared more with you than with me.”

Zoe studied Jake without speaking for a long, unnerving minute. “Don’t take it personally, Jake. I doubt there are very many teenage girls who feel comfortable talking about sex with their fathers. Probably not a lot of them who are entirely comfortable talking about it with their mothers either, for that matter. And she probably wouldn’t have said anything to me except that we ran into a friend of hers at the mall, and her friend was eager to tell her some scandalous bit of gossip about Travis.

“But she does listen to you, Jake. I know because she asked me to confirm something you told her about boys and sex. Which is how I come to know that she said
no
to Travis when he pushed for more than a few tonsil-tickling kisses.”

Jake’s fingers curled into fists at the thought of Travis hitting on his baby. His Ava. Jake closed his eyes and counted to ten. Slowly.

“Ava has a good head on her shoulders. You’ve done a good job with her. Now you need to have a little faith in
her
. Trust her to make some decisions on her own. And let her know you’re there for her anytime she needs backup.”

When Jake opened his eyes again, Zoe had come around the island and stood in front of him. She had her hands on her hips as she gazed up at him with earnest intensity in her incredible hazel eyes. “She’s a remarkable young woman, Jake.”

“Yeah. I—she is.” Jake swallowed hard against the confusing urge pull Zoe into his arms and hold on tight. “I guess I still owe you one.”

Zoe tipped her head, her brow creased. “How’s that?”

“Ava needs her mother, and I can’t do anything about that. But you’ve helped me see the error of my ways from a woman’s point of view. I appreciate your honesty.”

“And I appreciate having a dishwasher that works. So we’re even.”

“Not even close.” Jake moved toward the front door, and Zoe followed him. As he stepped onto the porch, he remembered the envelope he’d been instructed to give her. “Almost forgot. The twins asked me to give you this.”

Chapter 11

“JACOB ANDREW Cameron. Come down out of that tree house this instant!”

Jake cringed at the sound of his godmother’s voice and glanced at Zoe. He’d been praying for the last half hour for a good excuse to get away from the tight confines of his daughters’ tree house where he’d been attending a tea party in Zoe’s honor. The scent of Zoe’s shampoo and the softness of her skin every time her arm brushed his kept triggering thoughts he had no business thinking.
Be careful what you pray for
, his father’s words echoed in his head.
You just might get it!
What he’d gotten was Aunt Catherine.

“Jacob!” his godmother demanded again.

Jake unfolded himself and moved toward the ladder. Unfortunately, that meant crawling over Zoe.

“Sorry,” he muttered, working his way across her.

Zoe folded her knees tight to her chest and leaned back against the wall of the tree house to give him more room. “Is something wrong?” she whispered.

Jake sighed. “Something’s always wrong according to Aunt Catherine.”

“Jacob!”

“Hold your horses, Aunt Catherine. I’m getting there as quickly as I can.” When she spoke to him in that tone of voice, he felt about ten years old. It was embarrassing to say the least and irritating at the best of times. This wasn’t the best of times. He shoved his feet through the opening and lowered himself to the ground without needing to use the ladder.

Catherine Cameron waited impatiently at the foot of the tree. Her elegantly coifed head was artificially blond, and her nails were professionally trimmed, painted, and buffed. In spite of the heat and humidity, she wore a tailored navy blue suit and high heels with a burgundy scarf and matching handbag. According to Jake’s godmother, appearances were everything.

“Are you ever going to grow up and act your age?”

“Not if I can help it,” Jake replied flippantly. Once upon a time he’d made an effort to answer as he knew she expected him to, but it had never resulted in her approval, so he’d long ago given up trying.

“Don’t be rude.” Catherine turned with a haughty sniff and began walking toward the house. “I need your opinion.”

Jake snorted. His godmother always
needed
his opinion, but never took his advice. He wondered why she bothered. As they approached the porch, Jake’s mother-in-law was making her way down the stairs.

“Hello, Celia,” Catherine greeted the other woman.

Celia frowned. “Do I know you?”

“Of course, you do,” Catherine answered with barely curbed impatience.

“Aunt Catherine!” Jake hissed in warning. He held his hand out to Celia. “Where are you going, Mom?”

“Out to the garden. I thought I’d sit in the gazebo and wait for Richard.”

The gazebo had been destroyed in Hurricane Bertha, and Richard had been gone even longer. Jake’s heart ached for his mother-in-law. For two years, drugs had kept the Alzheimer’s at bay, but recently things had seemed to take an alarming turn for the worse. How much longer before she didn’t even remember who he was?

“I don’t think Richard’s coming today,” he said gently. He drew her hand firmly into the crook of his arm and steered her in the direction of the old oak tree. “Why don’t you sit in the chair under the tree where it’s shady. There’s a nice breeze, and you’ll be comfortable there.”

Celia looked up into Jake’s face with a beaming smile. “You are such a dear boy. I do think that would be nice. Thank you.”

Jake didn’t even bother to glance at his aunt. He didn’t want to see the patronizing impatience on her face. He settled Celia in an old Adirondack chair, asked if she would like a glass of sweet tea, and when she declined, left her there while he dealt with whatever his aunt had come to discuss.
What Zoe must be thinking about all this
, flashed through Jake’s mind, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it at the moment.

Zoe overheard the conversation going on below her with a mixture of distaste toward the unseen woman, pity for Celia, and sympathy for Jake. She’d caught a brief glimpse of the woman as Jake dropped to the ground and recognized her as the woman in the photo on Jake’s mantle.

What was wrong with Jake’s aunt that she didn’t understand that Celia couldn’t help her failing memory? For that matter, how could she treat her grown nephew with so little respect? Not that Zoe’s father was any better.
I guess Jake and I have something in common after all
, she thought as she accepted another cup of tepid chamomile tea from Lori and a cookie from the plate that Lynn held out.

Zoe was still thinking about Jake and his aunt when she climbed the steps to her own porch twenty minutes later and found Celia sitting in one of her rockers.

“Celia.” Zoe dropped into the other rocker. “I’m so glad you’ve come for a visit.”
Does Jake know she’s here?
“May I get you something to drink?”

“I believe I would like a glass of sweet tea if it isn’t too much trouble.” Celia rocked gently, her gaze drifting from Zoe to the yard beyond.

“Yes, ma’am. Coming right up.” Zoe hurried inside and grabbed the phone. She dialed Jake’s number while reaching for a glass and then waited impatiently for him to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jake. Did you know Celia’s sitting on my porch?”

Zoe heard Jake sigh. “I thought she was still under the tree. Can she stay with you for a few minutes longer? I need to get my aunt taken care of, then I’ll be over.” The sound of Jake’s voice, even over the phone, sent a lovely warm feeling tingling through her. But she heard frustration and maybe a hint of sadness in his tone. She could relate to that. That was how she felt every time she had to listen to one of her father’s harangues.

“Sure. No need to hurry. I wasn’t going anywhere anyway.”

Quickly she hung up and filled the glass from the pitcher in the fridge, then headed back to the porch. “Here you are,” Zoe said, pressing the tall glass into the older woman’s hands.

Celia brought her gaze back to Zoe. “Have you seen Martin yet?”

“Martin?” Zoe felt her eyes widen in surprise at the suddenly clear and intense tone of Celia’s question. Zoe had never heard of anyone named Martin and had no idea to whom Celia might be referring.

Celia leaned forward to whisper confidentially. “Martin grew up here.”

Well, that explained not having met the man. He was another memory from Celia’s past.

“Martin’s great-great-grandfather built this house, you know.”

Zoe hadn’t known. But who was Martin? Other than another Jolee family member?

“Martin was a soldier,” Celia went on, as if reading Zoe’s mind. “He went off to fight in Korea. He never had a proper funeral because his body never came home. But his spirit did, and he sometimes appears around people he likes. This is the only home he ever knew, so I guess it’s natural he’d want to be here.”

“How do you know all this?” Zoe felt more curiosity than alarm at the idea that the ghost of a young soldier might be skulking about her house.

“I married Martin’s brother.” Celia smiled wistfully. “Richard was too young to fight in that war. He went to Vietnam instead. We were married as soon as he got out of the Army. Richard built a house for us right next door, and Marsha grew up in that house.” Celia frowned. “But she’s gone now, too.”

Zoe still had a hard time wrapping her heart and mind around the idea of a woman who could turn her back on her entire family. Falling out of love with one’s husband was distressingly common, but to leave an ailing mother and three daughters behind? How could any woman be so uncaring and selfish?

A wistful look of rejection clouded Celia’s features, and Zoe hurried to banish the unwanted memory. “Tell me about Martin. What’s he like?” Might as well get the facts straight before she encountered any ghosts that might be lurking.

Celia had lived on Awbrey Circle her entire adult life
.
In a house her husband built on Jolee land. And Jake is apparently living in his mother-in-law’s house rather than the other way around.
I bet Celia could tell a lot of interesting old stories. If she could remember them.

Celia’s smile returned. “Martin was so handsome, and he was such a sweet man. He was older than me. He was always nice to me, but he never noticed how we had so many things in common.” Celia sighed, then brightened again. “He loved animals. I love animals, too, you know. He had a dog named Pounce and a cat called Whiskers, and he fed the wild animals, too. Deer would walk right up and take food from his hand.”

If ghosts really exist, I guess I can expect a visit one of these days. I’ve filled his house with half a dozen animals.
Maybe I should set up bird feeders and start tossing nuts out for the squirrels.

“He would never hurt you.” Celia patted Zoe’s hand. “So you needn’t worry. But, sometimes he forgets to close the doors.”

Jake appeared and took the stairs two at a time, interrupting Celia’s wandering memories. “Hey, Mom. Ready to come home yet?” He bent to kiss Celia’s powdered cheek. Then he looked at Zoe. “Thanks. Now I really owe you.”

A number of possible ways Jake could reward her flashed through Zoe’s mind, but all were X-rated. She chided herself for her silliness. “I’ve enjoyed our visit. Celia told me all about Martin.”

Jake rolled his eyes. He apparently didn’t believe in Celia’s ghost.

“She told me that she’s lived in this neighborhood most of her life.”

“All her life,” Jake corrected. He gestured with the sweep of an arm, taking in the three homes that graced the little neighborhood. “Celia grew up in the Cliffords’ house and married the youngest son of the man who inherited yours. When they married, her husband, Richard, built the house I live in. Celia’s maiden name was Clifford, and Bill Clifford is her father’s much younger brother’s son. So Bill is her cousin, and I think that makes Bill’s son Danny her second cousin, or is that first cousin once removed? I can never get that straight. Anyway, we’re all related somehow.”

“All except for me.” Zoe suddenly felt left out. Which was absurd. She had a family of her own. Just because they lived in Wilmington proper, and she’d moved to this little bedroom town where the old Jolee Plantation land once stood, didn’t mean she didn’t still belong.

“Well, they adopted me, maybe they’ll adopt you. You can be an honorary Clifford, or a Jolee if you prefer. Personally, I’d stick with Clifford. I know you’ve met Danny. I’ve seen him playing with your dogs, but have you met Bill and Carrie yet?”

“They had me over to supper the other night.” Zoe got to her feet. “I’ll have to ask about the adoption option next time.”

“Jake?” Celia stood and frowned at Zoe. “Why am I here?”

“You came to visit, Mom. Would you like to go home now?”

“Yes, I think that would be best. I don’t think I should be here when Martin comes.”

Jake glanced at Zoe and shrugged.

“Please come again, Mrs. Jolee. I’ve so enjoyed your visit and hearing all about Martin.” Zoe bent to kiss the older woman’s cheek.

Celia looked pleased with the familiarity and reached up to tuck a stray curl behind Zoe’s ear. “Please, just call me Celia. You’ll take good care of Martin?”

“You can count on me, ma’am.”

As she watched Jake guide his mother-in-law across the lawn, Zoe realized she should have asked if it was all the doors Martin tended to leave open or just one in particular. Then she gave herself a mental shake.
There is no ghost, you idiot. I’ve been here the better part of a month. Surely I’d have noticed a ghost leaving doors open before now?

BY THE END OF the week, Zoe was no longer so sure about the house not being haunted. The first morning after Celia’s visit, when Zoe had come down to breakfast, she’d found the front door ajar. She’d closed it carefully, trying to picture herself shutting and locking it the night before. But the more she thought about it, the less certain she was about what she remembered or didn’t remember.

Two days later the French doors in the study were open, and the long lacy curtains wafted gently in the morning breeze. That incident had been pretty easy to justify since the afternoon before Zoe had stopped on her way home from work to get the new bird feeders. After she’d hung them along her back fence, she distinctly recalled standing at the porch railing admiring her magnificent view of the waterway and the dunes beyond. But when she had retreated to the study to watch out the partially open doors as the birds began to discover their new feeding stations, a squirrel had shown up. His antics as he tried to hang upside down to shake seed out of the feeder had made her laugh out loud, which prompted Polly to join in with raucous laughter. Zoe’d had to restrain Jet from taking off in a mad dash to catch the squirrel before it made it back to safety. She must have gotten sidetracked by the dogs and forgotten to return and latch the doors.

Besides
, she kept telling herself,
if there were really a ghost, wouldn’t the dogs have barked at it?
Scotch at least. He barked at everything. Even the cats had continued strutting about with their noses in the air as if they owned the place with no one and nothing to challenge that belief. Surely, the cats would have noticed an unexplained presence in the house and meowed their disapproval. Wouldn’t they?

On Thursday, after a quiet day at work, Zoe decided to organize the closet under the stairs. At the far corner, hidden in the shadows, she found a box and dragged it out to investigate. Old newspapers with headlines from significant dates in history filled most of the box. Neil Armstrong’s first steps on the moon. The assassinations of JFK and Martin Luther King. Zoe scanned through the yellowed reminders of America’s past, then at the very bottom of the box she found a framed photo of a young man in uniform. Zoe carried the frame to the kitchen and cleaned the glass. He was a handsome young man, dressed in old-fashioned army greens. Was this Martin Jolee? Or perhaps his younger brother Richard?