New Point (11 page)

She can’t look at me like I’m a victim.

Brushing my hands on my skirt, I stand up. “Listen, Et-Dr. Wilson, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today, but I can’t do this. Your son is in my camp and I…”

Etta stands too, smiling gently.

“I went on a date with Miles last night and to me this is a giant conflict of interest. So, um, I will kindly decline to continue therapy with you.”

“Of course, Zoe. You’re in control here, you make the choice whether or not to pursue a professional relationship with me. I do want to warn you, the next psychologist is a twenty mile drive.”

I shift uncomfortably on my wedges. Etta’s kindness makes me second-guess my decision. But not enough to give up Miles, though.

“Unfortunately, that’s a risk I’ll have to take,” I relent.

“If you change your mind, don’t hesitate to call me.” She swipes a business card off a holder on her desk and hands it to me. Without looking at it, I shove it into my purse. “My cell number is on there. I’m available to you at any time.”

“Thank you, Etta.”

I nearly stumble out of her office, bypassing the smiling receptionist with a rigid farewell and launching myself outside.

How embarrassing. It’s probably just a matter of time before Etta tells her brother about me. Why would he want to date a basket case?

If only I had taken the time to review Duke’s application for camp. Or asked Miles his last name. Then maybe I would have saved myself the mortification of not knowing Etta was my intended therapist.

T
he day couldn’t have gotten much worse until it was time to punch out. I lock the front door of the library then make my exit through the employee door in the back. Since lunch I’ve been rattled. How long would it take Miles to break things off with me? How long until Zoe pulled Duke from the summer program?

For the first time since I moved here, I start wondering if New Point is the right choice for me. I’m caught up in the spiral of negative thoughts when a tap on my shoulder nearly sends my heart flying out of my chest.

“Ah!”

“Calm down,” Lacey snaps.

I whirl around, hand pressing into my breastbone to calm my wildly beating heart. Each breath comes out as a gasp. Startling someone like me doesn’t end up with hugs and happiness. The physical response takes me back to the moment I thought I’d never live to see another day.

Go away!
I silently shout at the memories.

“I need to – what is wrong with you?” Lacey observes me with a rude sneer, watching as I struggle to breathe.

“You…scared…me,” I wheeze.

“Really? That big of a deal?”

I drop my hands to my side, forcing my breaths to slow and even. When I can finally speak, my voice wobbles. “My mind was on the other end of the world. What’s up, Lacey?”

She frowns, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “You’re new here, so I thought I would help you out.”

Her words pop the bubble of fear around me, and I narrow my eyes.
Not gonna let you push me around.
“I appreciate your consideration, but I think I’m doing fine enough on my own.”

She inches closer, and I can smell the cloyingly scent of her perfume. “Miles and I? We’re together. Take your puppy dog eyes and point them at someone else, like that rich guy you were with the other night.”

I want to laugh at her incorrect assessment of my relationship with Blake, but I keep my expression even.

“Stay away from Miles,” she hisses in my face.

I roll my eyes at her audacity. “You may want to speak to Miles about your exclusivity, because it seems that he is only interested in dating me.”

Without waiting for a response, I sidestep her and stalk across the back patio of the library.

Adrenaline oozes off me until I remove my shoes and my feet plunge into the sand on the path home. For all of my confidence when speaking to Lacey, I doubt I’ll spend much more time getting to know Miles. There might not be enough room in our burgeoning relationship for my baggage.

COME VISIT

I
’ve been staring at the message for a couple minutes, uncertainty nipping at me. Miles wouldn’t leave a message like this if he had heard about my semi-breakdown in his sister’s office this afternoon.

I think.

Who am I kidding with this indecision?

Screw this, I’m going over there.

The exterior of the house reminds me of the man who lives there; warm, inviting, masculine. The towering structure is a mixture of chestnut wood planks and large, smooth stones. Two rows of windows frame the tall front door and I spot two chimneys splitting free of the roof. I carefully avoid peeking in when I knock, trying to relax my features. The door swings open and there he is.

“Hi.”

That smile.
It renders me speechless. There’s a twinkle in his eye like he knows a secret. I want to know what he knows.

Women almost twenty-five years old don’t get full-blown teenage crushes, do they? There’s no other explanation for the giddiness coursing through me at the sight of Miles.

“It’s time to cash in on your offer for neighborly help.”

He studies me for obvious signs of distress. Finding none, he raises both eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”

“Someone is leaving mysterious messages in the sand beneath my deck. I can’t figure out who would do such a thing seeing as I’m a city girl.”

Husky laughter trickles out of his mouth. Inwardly I sigh. He’s captivating without saying a word. “Why don’t you come inside and we’ll solve this mystery?” Miles leans back into the door, making room for me to enter his home and giving me the opportunity to check him out. In faded wash jeans, bare feet, and a t-shirt, he’s all-American glory at its finest. Sandalwood tickles my nostrils when I pass by him. I’d love to stop, burrow my nose against his neck, and inhale his scent for days.

What is happening to me?
All the negative thoughts that have hounded me surrounding Clarkes Elementary disintegrate when he’s near. If I’m not careful, I could get addicted to this kind of peace.

“Wow,” I murmur when I enter his home. Through the foyer and a short hallway sits the sunken living room. Oversized windows make it seem like we’re a heartbeat away from Lake Michigan’s calming waves. “That’s perfect,” I say, tilting my head toward the windows.

“When I saw the windows from a run one morning, I knew I had to have this place.” Miles shrugs, moving to stand behind me. His breath tickles the back of my neck, and I want to shiver, sink against him, and let him murmur in my ear for as long as he wishes.

I fight the urge to shut my eyes and revel in the moment. “You made the right choice.” My voice drops several octaves, almost raspy with want.

Slow. You’re not ready,
I remind myself.

With a mental shake, I continue into the living room, stopping at a row of picture frames spread on a console table behind the deep brown leather sofa. I lift a picture of Etta, Duke, and a man who must be Etta’s husband.

How long will Etta wait before telling Miles I was supposed to be her patient?

“What’s that frown about?” Miles gently removes the frame from my grasp, setting it back on the table. With a crooked finger, he nudges my chin up to make eye contact with him.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t hide things from me. We’re only just beginning.” His voice is low, eyes drilling into mine.

If only you knew what hides behind my closed doors
, I think sadly.

“Lacey stopped by the library to chat after work today,” I blurt.

His eyes darken with annoyance. “What did she want?”

I lift my shoulders but don’t break eye contact. “According to Lacey, you’re dating her. Exclusively.”

Miles take a frustrated step backward, thrusting his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “God, when will she figure it out?” He turns to me urgently, grabbing my shoulders in his hands and holding me tightly. “We haven’t been together for years. It wasn’t until Blue in Green opened earlier in the year that she started buzzing around again.”

“Miles – ”

“No.” His voice is hard, urgent. “Listen to me, Lacey and I are the opposite of together. We’re apart, and there’s zero chance of reconciliation. Ever.”

“Miles?”

“What?” he snaps, agitation rolling off him in waves. He shakes his head slightly. “I’m sorry. Lacey meddling is an unpleasant nuisance, to say the least.”

“I was going to tell you I don’t believe her, but you might want to straighten things out if…” My cheeks heat.

“If what?” His tone is coaxing, a pleased smile replacing the agitation.

“If you and I are going to continue seeing each other, I would prefer you don’t see anyone else,” I say bravely, meeting his gaze. “And I’m aware that I asked for things to move slowly between us, but if I’m dating you, I’m only dating you.”

His brows draw together. “I didn’t realize this needed to be said explicitly after I practically threw down with your brother.” He leans down, lips hovering over mine. They’re so close I can nearly feel the pressure and warmth. I want him to kiss me. Badly. But he doesn’t touch his lips to mine; instead they whisper across my cheek and come to a stop at my ear. “I’ll set her straight. But for the record, I’m not seeing anyone else, and neither are you.”

“No,” I murmur. “No one else.”

When he’s close like this, his scent tantalizing me, my thoughts scramble and nothing’s coherent.

Gulping a fortifying breath, I turn to continue my exploration of his home. I find myself in the open kitchen. Like the rest of his house, it’s masculine with dark wood cabinets and speckled granite countertops. The space is equipped to be a chef’s dream, with a six-burner stove top and double oven. The memory of Miles making homemade brownies for me causes my stomach to go soft and melty.

I spread my hands across the countertop, watching as he lazily makes his way toward me. All of his body language is non-threatening, a relaxed gait and gentle smile. But his gaze reveals how he’s really feeling. He’s got the eyes of a hunter, trained on me. Irises darkened with lust, pupils dilated. It’s clear what Miles wants, but he’s trying not to scare me by being too aggressive.

Whether he knows it or not, Miles is the right man at the right time in my life.

“How do you propose we catch this mystery sand artist?” I change the subject.

He pretends to mull over my question, drumming his fingertips on the countertop. “We could set a trap.”

“A mouse trap with cheese? I wouldn’t want to hurt the guy. The notes are pretty harmless.”

Miles’ right hand flexes, like he wants to reach out and grab hold of me. He restrains himself, instead smiling broadly. “If you spent more time outside, he probably couldn’t help but stop by and visit with you. Sounds to me like he’s got a bit of a crush on you.”

“Too bad, I’m interested in someone else.” I meet Miles’s eyes shyly. It might be the way the sunlight catches, but I swear his chest swells with pride.

“Come with me to the bar for dinner,” he says impulsively.

“Before I answer…you know what I realized today? You’ve never told me your last name.”

Miles eyebrows rise. “I haven’t? It’s Wilson. Now, dinner?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask about his sister’s last name, but that would be a dead giveaway. Instead, I push away the unpleasantness from earlier.

“I’d love to.”

He reaches over to weave our fingers together, pressing his palm to mine. When our skin touches I swear the air sizzles around us. Time freezes when our eyes meet, unblinking, sending soundless messages toward a future together.

“
B
oss man!” Jake cheers when we enter Blue in Green a little while later. His gaze quickly travels to where our hands are clasped, but he doesn’t comment.

“Jake.” Miles nods his head in greeting as we approach the counter. “You’ve met Zoe, right?”

Of course Miles knows that I’ve met the bartender, but there’s an underlying message in his casual mention:
show her respect.
Pink tinges my cheeks as I force myself to smile normally at Miles’ friend.

“Sure, we met the other night when she was here with…”

“Blake,” I answer quickly. “We’re related on my mom’s side.” Jake’s visible surprise is all the encouragement I need to continue. “He can be a little alpha. I hope you didn’t get the wrong impression of him.”

Jake glances at Miles almost like he’s looking for a bro code signal. “No, not at all,” he responds slowly.

“You going to stare at us or get us some drinks?” Miles breaks the tension with a crooked eyebrow.

Jake shakes off his stupor, flashing his easygoing grin. “Tequila again, Zoe?”

I laugh as I climb onto one of the stools. “No, that stuff’s poison, and I drink it once a year. Iced tea, please.”

He doesn’t bother asking Miles what he wants, just moseys around the back of the bar, soon presenting my drink and his beer on the bar. Jake props his hands on the bar, leaning into the concrete. “If you’re related to Blake, does that mean you like sports?”

I notice at that moment that Miles isn’t sitting next to me as he leans down to drop a kiss on my temple. “Be right back,” he tells me. Then to Jake, he says, “Don’t be a dick.”