All or Nothing (7 page)

“There's a lot of that going around,” he muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Zach looked into her eyes so directly that Jen jumped. “So, what you're really doing here is asking me out, providing your grandmother approves?”

Jen found herself blushing. That he was smiling at her like that didn't help much. “Well, yes. Um. Pretty much.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire...

“I don't believe you.” He took the fifty, folded it and put it into her apron. “But you should still keep the change.”

“That's not why...”

“Of course not. Just so you know, though —” he leaned closer to whisper and she shivered when she felt his breath against her temple “—I can't go out with you.”

“Even Thanksgiving?”

“Especially Thanksgiving. Murray promised to thump me if I made a move on you.”

Jen put a hand on her hip and scoffed, because it seemed the safest option. “Wait a minute. I just asked out a guy who's afraid of Murray? He punches like a girl.”

Zach laughed. “Okay, then, you're on. Thursday. Four o'clock. See you there.” Jen's relief was short-lived, because he turned to walk away.

“But you don't know where!” He hadn't changed his mind: he was teasing her, that much was clear. He wasn't really accepting—how could he be when he didn't even ask where her Gran lived?

Zach, however, was the image of confidence. “I'll find out.”

“But...”

“Tick tock, Jen. As I understand it, you've only got until two to make your tips and your section
was
full.”

“Oh, God, my section...” Jen paused to look back at him. “You actually listened to what I said.”

Now, he looked embarrassed. “Well, duh. Hey, you'd better hurry. And I've got to go anyway. Roxanne's waiting on me.” With one more flash of that cocksure grin, he pivoted and strode away.

Roxanne.

Roxanne!

Jen had just asked a guy to Thanksgiving dinner who had a girlfriend. How smooth was that? She fingered the fifty, stared after him, and felt stupid. She should have asked if he was seeing someone. There was her inexperience screaming loud and clear.

No, the real problem was that she shouldn't have believed Cin's plan could work for her. And, she shouldn't have been so easily charmed by this guy. Her heart shouldn't be leaping and she shouldn't be watching him walk away, much less checking out his butt (it was a good one). She shouldn't have been having fun matching wits with him.

Nope. None of the above.

Zach Coxwell was totally not her type. That was, after all, the point to Cin's plan. So, it was a good thing that Zach had been just putting her on, that he wouldn't be coming to dinner, that she wouldn't see him again, even that Roxanne—who must be gorgeous and rich and endowed with two perfect breasts—was tapping her toe, waiting impatiently for him. Right?

Wrong
. There was no arguing with the fact that Jen was disappointed.

Obviously, she was losing her mind as fast as she was losing her tips.

* * *

Women were a mystery. Zach could think of no other explanation for what had just happened. Here he'd been sure that he was striking out, that Jen wouldn't have given him the time of the day, and she'd been interested in him all along.

Who would have guessed? No matter how old he got and how many women he talked to, Zach knew that he'd never be able to read their responses with 100% certainty.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Maybe mystery—or inscrutability—added a little chemistry. There certainly was chemistry with Jen. He hadn't wanted to let go of her hand. He certainly hadn't wanted to walk away, at least not just yet.

He'd been thinking about scoring a kiss.

No doubt about it, the day was looking up. Zach was interested in Jen, in how quick she was, and curious about how serious she was, and the idea of spending a bit of time with her suited him just fine.

Even if she had some weird ideas. He could live with a bit of quirkiness. It kept things interesting.

In fact, he felt a lot more purposeful now than he had just a few minutes before.

He'd go back tomorrow and get the details straight. Right now, Roxie needed him. It had been four hours and he knew his dog well enough to know her maximum bladder capacity. He headed for his small condo in Cambridge and a large Bernese mountain dog with all four paws crossed.

His mistake, he decided later, was using that alley short-cut to get home sooner.

* * *

Zach was only a dozen steps down its trash-strewn length when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, Zach, man, long time no see.”

Zach looked up to find Snake-Eyes beside him, as twitchy as ever. The guy made as much noise as a shadow and always had given Zach the creeps. Tall, thin and wasted—in both the colloquial and literal sense of the word—Snake-Eyes wasn't the kind of guy anyone wanted to spend a lot of time with. He'd been a customer of Zach's for years, one who Zach had insisted pay cash. Snake-Eyes had always looked as if he wouldn't last much longer.

Zach hadn't seen Snake-Eyes in a while, and the other man was looking a bit the worse for wear. That was saying something. He appeared to be more edgy than usual, and not in a good way. His gaze darted from one side to the other and his hands were shaking. Zach speculated that his indulgences had graduated to harder substances—he'd seen that happen a thousand times, always to the detriment of the use.

Which was why Zach had always kept his own indulgences modest: a beer once in a while and the occasional cigarette were his current sins. He'd always limited himself to a single joint, at most, and hadn't had one since that fateful night in New Orleans. He doubted he'd ever have another.

That chapter of his life was done.

“Hey, Snake-Eyes, what's going on?” Zach asked the question rhetorically, in a friendly tone even though he wasn't particularly interested in the answer. Nothing was ever going on with Snake-Eyes: he was either high or working on getting high.

Zach supposed that kept life simple.

“Not much, not much. Hey Zach, you got any stuff?”

Zach glanced at his companion. “Stuff?”

“Yeah, you know. Some weed. You always have weed, man, and I could use some.”

Zach shook his head. “I don't do that anymore, Snake-Eyes.” He expected Snake-Eyes to leave it be, because it was pretty easy to lay hands on weed in a university town, but he'd called it wrong.

“I don't care whether you
do
it anymore, man.” Snake-Eyes' voice rose slightly, one of the first times Zach had ever heard him irritated. “I asked whether you had any.”

Zach shook his head again. “No. I don't do it and I don't sell it either. That's over.”

“Liar.”

“No, really. I've quit.” Once again, Zach made to walk away.

Snake-Eyes grabbed him by the shoulder, his fingers digging in like claws.

“Hey, cut that out.” Zach did his best Bugs Buggy imitation, brushing off his shirt with exaggerated gestures. “You'll wrinkle the material.”

Snake-Eyes didn't back off. “You mean you're not selling any to me, that's what you mean. What's the matter? My money's not green enough for you?”

Zach spoke firmly, intending to be understood. “No, that's
not
what I mean, Snake-Eyes. I don't sell anymore. It's been almost a year. I don't have any weed. I'm done with it. Ask anybody.”

“I'm not asking anybody. I'm asking
you
.” Snake-Eyes punctuated the last word by jabbing his finger into Zach's chest.

“Hey! I'm being straight with you.”

Snake-Eyes laughed. “You've never been straight with nobody.” He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming. “I want some stuff and I want some of yours. You can sell it to me or I can take it.”

Zach took a step backward, not liking the tone of this conversation. The alley was empty, just his luck. “Snake-Eyes, you know that if I had any, I'd sell it to you.”

Hell, if he'd had any weed right now, he would have
given
it to Snake-Eyes.

“I
don't
know that,” Snake-Eyes argued. “In fact, I'm thinking that you're holding out on me. I'm thinking that you're saving your stash for a better customer...”

“You were always a good customer, Snake-Eyes, one of my best, but...”

“So, how come you're holding out on me?”

“I'm not!”

“Bullshit!”

Zach had no chance to argue because Snake-Eyes decked him. His punch caught Zach right in the eye and was harder than Zach could have expected.

The world spun and Zach lost his footing.

“Hey!” He staggered backward. When he raised his hand to his eye, it came away with blood. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Snake-Eyes put out his hand. “Gimme some stuff, man.”

“I don't have any. I swear it to you.”

Zach's pledge didn't persuade Snake-Eyes.

Instead of answering, the other guy punched Zach in the gut and while Zach was doubled over—giving serious consideration to the possibility of ralphing that burger on the pavement—Snake-Eyes went through his pockets.

Then Snake-Eyes stepped away with disgust. “You don't have any stuff! What's up with that?”

Zach coughed and spit on the pavement. He straightened with an effort and regarded the other man warily. “Just like I told you. I don't do that anymore. You've got to work on your trust, Snake-Eyes.”

The other man just swore and shook his head. He glared at Zach. “You've changed, man. I thought I could count on you.”

“Yeah, well, ditto.” Zach raised a hand to his eye and winced that it was swelling fast. He never would have imagined that Snake-Eyes could have even thrown a punch. The guy's usual tactic was begging. Maybe he'd gotten lucky. Or Zach had gotten unlucky. “I guess times have changed, Snake-Eyes.”

Snake-Eyes smiled, suddenly contrite and about as trustworthy as a rattler. “I guess so, man. Hey, sorry about the eye.” He offered his hand as if shaking would make Zach's injuries evaporate.

This time it was Zach who stepped back. He saw his former customer more clearly now, saw how years of substance abuse had eroded Snake-Eyes to sinew, saw the future he'd evaded by leaving that life behind. Weed was the least of Snake-Eyes' problems.

He glanced at Snake-Eyes' outstretched hand for only a moment, then decided to take a pass on touching the other man.

“Yeah. So am I.” Zach turned and walked away, grimacing at the ache in his gut. He hoped he hadn't broken a rib.

“Hey, see you around, man,” Snake-Eyes called after him.

“Not if I see you first,” Zach muttered. The way his eye was puffing up, he wasn't going to be seeing much from that side for the foreseeable—ha ha—future.

He was going to need some ice.

Actually, he might need more than that. His eye was closing so rapidly that he was frightened. Should he go to the ER? He needed advice from someone who knew about such things.

He and Roxie would have to inflict themselves on someone.

Unfortunately, the one person Zach knew who was most likely to know what to do about his eye was married to the one person who disapproved most heartily of him. There was some kind of cosmic rule wrapped up in that, but Zach wasn't in any shape to figure it out. His sister-in-law Maralys was street-savvy and would take the injury in stride, as well as know whether he should seek medical assistance. The price of her consultation would be not only her cutting commentary, but possibly a lecture from Zach's oldest brother James.

Fun wow. It said something that even knowing that, he'd go to their place ASAP.

* * *

Not thirty minutes later, Maralys opened the door and smiled at Zach. He blinked, because she was a redhead today and had been a brunette when last he'd seen her, but it was still his sister-in-law.

The wicked smile gave her away.

“Nice, fresh shiner,” she said.

Roxie, recognizing the house, darted past them both and headed for the kitchen with her tail wagging in anticipation. She'd be busy doing the perimeter sniff for a good twenty minutes.

“Glad you're amused,” he said.

“Should I ask about the other guy?”

“His knuckles might be bruised.”

“Were you being gallant, or were you completely trounced?”

“Hey, no need to build up my ego here.”

“You're a Coxwell.” Maralys stood back to let him come in. “There's no need to build up the egos of any of you.”

“I heard that,” James called from further in the house.

Zach stifled a groan. He'd hoped to talk to Maralys without seeing his oldest brother, but James was sauntering into the foyer. There was, he thought, no point in disguising his feelings. “Great. You would be home when I come begging for mercy.”

“Nobody said you had good luck.” James snagged his suit jacket from the chair in the hall. He was obviously heading back to work. “Just home for lunch. Hey, nice eye. Was she worth it?”

“Very funny. You should be congratulating me.”

“On getting thumped? That'll be the day.” James paused to give Maralys a kiss so thorough that Zach felt he should leave.

Something had changed in his brother since he'd been with Maralys—although she was prickly and opinionated, she seemed to have softened James' edges. His brother was more at ease in his own skin. Happier maybe.

Not to mention that the two could generate heat like no couple Zach had ever known. He looked everywhere but at them directly. This was his oldest brother, after all. The man was in his forties and had three kids. The evidence that James knew about sex was there for the looking.

Come to think of it—which Zach would have preferred not to have done—James had probably come home at lunch for a quickie.