Sand Angel (20 page)

She could feel her smile radiate from the inside out. “I’m sorry, Trent, but yes.” How could she tell him that Drew was all she had ever wanted?

Trent shook his head, even as he muttered, “You look happy.”

Zoë hated hurting Trent. They had been good together—friends, but she had never loved him. Right or wrong, he had been a replacement for Drew.

Trent pushed a heavy breath from his lungs. “If you ever need me or—” He paused. His lips thinned. His smile appeared tight, forced. “You know how to get in touch with me.” He wrapped his arms around her.

From over Trent’s shoulder, Zoë saw Drew frown. He started toward them when Josh restrained him with a hand on his shoulder. They exchanged words. Drew was not happy, but evidently her brother had convinced him not to intervene. Zoë would have to remember to thank Josh.

Trent gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and released her, but not before he whispered, “I love you.” He didn’t wait for her response. He spun around and headed for his rail. In seconds, the engine roared and he sped away—alone.

Something squeezed Zoë’s chest. She felt moisture fill her eyes. How long had Trent felt that way about her? She had been so engulfed in her own life—career—that she truly hadn’t thought about how her actions might affect others. Damn her for being so self-centered.

Drew gave her a nod and she faked a smile. For someone who had just received everything she had ever wanted, Zoë was confused. Trent’s vow. Not to mention she had no idea what Drew expected from her.

They hadn’t really discussed her career, but she knew it was in the back of Drew’s mind. She had once told her boss that her edge came from not being afraid to die. Well, she had someone to live for now and it scared the shit out of her. One wrong landing or miscalculation and—

Dammit. She couldn’t think like that. Fear made a poor companion on a ride and Phoenix was only a night away. She had scheduled several jumps, each increasing in difficulty. The crowd would expect it—crave it.

For the first time in her career, Zoë wasn’t looking forward to her ride. In fact, she was dreading it.

“You okay?” Drew asked as he approached. He looked in the direction that Trent had disappeared. “What did he say to upset you?” Drew’s backbone went ramrod straight.

“Nothing,” she lied. Trent had opened her eyes. Things would be changing and Zoë didn’t know if she was strong enough to endure.

Drew was perceptive as he searched her face. “Not buying it, babe. Spill it.”

She hesitated before coming right to the point. “How do you see this thing between us playing out?”

He stiffened even more. “Playing out? I don’t exactly know what you mean, Zoë.”

“Your job? Mine? Do you plan for us to live together? Where?” Exasperation left her lungs in a rush. “What do you expect of me? To quit my job…be your wife…have children?” She felt flustered and it gnawed at her gut. She needed answers. Before today all she had to worry about was herself.

He reached for her, holding her at arm’s length. “Breathe.”

Crap. She hadn’t realized that she’d worked herself into a tizzy. She inhaled a much-needed breath. “We live such different lives.” Tears beat behind her eyelids. “My job keeps me on the road. I’m never in one place for very long.”

“Do you love me?” he asked as if it was the simplest of questions to answer.

“What?”

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he repeated firmly.

“Yes.”

He drew her next to the warmth of his body. “Everything else will work itself out. I’ll compromise—you’ll compromise. We’ll make this work.”

“But how?” she asked, resting her cheek against his chest.

“I have some time off before I start my job. Plus I have a little money saved. We’ll travel wherever you want to go. Take one day at a time.”

She glanced up at him. “We’ve never talked about children.” A tear slipped from her eyes. “I’d suck as a mother.”

“Oh, honey.” He gave her a sympathetic chuckle and squeeze. “No you wouldn’t.” He wiped her tear away. “I know that when the time comes you will be a perfect mother. You’re strong and passionate and you love life.”

Zoë gazed up at him in disbelief. Was that really how he felt about her?

“Now, if you’re going to get in one more ride before we leave, you better get going. I’ll pack things up and be ready when you return.” He released her and wedged the kickstand from her bike, kicking it aside as he waited for her to take hold.

Was Drew for real? He seemed to know the right things to say to soothe her. He was the balm to the chaos churning inside her.

Zoë kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.” She took the bike out of his grasp, swung a leg over and kick-started the engine, which made a high-pitched winding sound. He stepped aside. She donned her helmet and goggles, before she popped the clutch and gassed it.

The hum of the bike, the vibration beneath her, had a calming effect. She didn’t seek the tallest mountain, the fastest competitor or the highest jump. Today she rode for pleasure. Strangely, the adrenaline rush she always sought didn’t surface.

There had always been an appreciation for the Dunes, but today she found something surreal about them. Nature had sculptured each hill. The wind caressed, shifting and changing them over time. Almost as life experiences did people—did her.

Bringing the bike to a stop atop a knoll, she looked over the horizon, feeling oddly small compared to the vast expanse. She had only one question in her mind.

Who was Zoë Davis?

As Drew secured Zoë’s quad, he couldn’t help worrying about her. She seemed oddly withdrawn and insecure. He sensed she needed some time alone. As much as he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, trust went both ways. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he released the latch too quickly, pinching the skin between his thumb and forefinger between the metal. “Sonofabitch.” He rapidly shook his hand. “Fuck, that hurts.” Waiting for the pain to subside, his thoughts went back to Zoë. He had to believe that she knew what was best for her. Second-guessing her would only build a wall between them. Disheartened, he looked out the back of the trailer over the terrain and wondered where she was. Sand ground beneath his tennis shoes as he walked down the ramp. They had worked too hard to get where they were today to allow uncertainty to come between them, but still he worried.

“Have you talked her into hanging up her helmet?” Trent asked. There was no sarcasm in his tone, only concern. His eyes were rimmed red. That could have been the blowing sand but Drew was sure it wasn’t. Bottom line, it was obvious this man cared for her.

“Nah. You know Zoë.” Drew tried to keep it light. It was true that he would give anything for her to quit her job, but he had seen the light glow in her as she rode. Zoë was talented and she loved what she did. “Ask and she’ll do just the opposite.”

“You love her?” It appeared that Trent wasn’t into small talk—he went straight to what was bothering him.

“Yes.” Drew steeled himself for an argument that didn’t come.

Trent nodded and extended his hand to Drew. “Take care of her.” They shook hands and parted without another word.

A little awkward, but Drew was glad it ended peacefully.

Now the only thing left was loading Zoë’s bike when she returned, and rolling up the trailer’s awning that had shaded them from the early morning sun. As he flipped the release latch to the awning, he saw Kari watching him. He prayed the woman kept her distance. In Zoë’s odd mood, he didn’t know exactly how she might react. The awning made a zipping sound as it retracted and tucked away. He secured it. An engine winding down caught his attention and made him glance over his shoulder. Zoë drifted into the campsite, not bursting, which was her usual style. She quietly disembarked, pulled her helmet off and started to push her bike up the ramp. He quickly moved to her side and helped guide the bike. Together they secured it.

After she changed her clothes, putting on a pair of jeans, a thin T-shirt and sandals, she stepped out of the trailer. “I’m ready,” she announced. For some reason he got the feeling she meant more than she was ready to leave the Dunes. The question was, what exactly did she mean?

A lot of the campers had already headed home. After saying their goodbyes and promising to meet up with Josh at Zoë’s exhibition, they were finally on the road. Fifteen minutes of silence passed before he asked, “Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and instead curled her feet beneath her and leaned against the door. Either she fell asleep or pretended to be, but she said absolutely nothing.

The green fields of Blythe were within sight. He placed a hand on her thigh and gently shook. “Hungry?”

Zoë yawned, stretching her arms out wide. “No. I think we’ll pull in town just about supper time. I’d like to stop by Mom and Dad’s and say hello. I haven’t seen them in a while. You know Mom, she won’t let us leave until we’ve eaten something.” She gazed out the window.

“How about a shower tonight where we can both fit in the stall at once?” He smiled, trying to coax one out of her.

“Huh?” She turned back around to face him.

“The news station is putting me up in an apartment until I decide where I want to buy a house.” He switched on the truck’s blinker and crossed over the lane. “It’s not much, but the sheets are clean and I can promise a long, hot shower and maybe a little lovin’. You game?”

“Tired of my home already?” For a moment, he wondered if there was something more behind her question.

“Nah… Doesn’t a bed without sand sound appealing? And if you wash my back, I’ll wash yours.”

She gave a half-hearted laugh. “Why not? I’ve almost forgotten what an actual bath feels like. The trailer’s water tank holds quite a bit of water but I’ve learned to use it sparingly. Where’s this apartment of yours?”

“About five miles from your family’s home.” He took his eyes off the road to see her smile deepen.

“Did you plan to stake out the house and wait for me to show up?”

“If I had to,” he responded without hesitation. He reached over and grasped her hand and squeezed. If it weren’t for the large console between them, he would have had her sitting next to him.

It was six o’clock when they pulled up along the sidewalk in front of Zoë’s parents’ house. She sat paralyzed in her seat. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them,” she admitted weakly. “I haven’t been a very good daughter.”

“Baby, they’ll be so glad to see you that time won’t matter.” She knew he was trying to reassure her, but it was useless. She’d hardly called, and more than once she had zoomed through town, never stopping by to even inquire about their health. “Come on, let’s go inside and see what your mom has cooking. I’m starving.”

Zoë moved slower than a turtle, dragging her feet, stopping to look around at the yard and neighborhood. “It looks smaller than it used to.”

He laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “Age makes everything look smaller.” He glanced down at his crotch. “Well, hopefully not everything.”

Her hand froze midway to the doorbell. “I don’t even know what to say to them.”

Drew pressed the button before intertwining his fingers with hers. “Things have a way of working themselves out. Just remember to breathe.”

The door opened and her mother let out a sob somewhere between happiness and relief. She tore open the screen door and embraced Zoë, tears racing down the portly woman’s cheeks. “My baby,” she wept.

Zoë couldn’t breathe. She was swamped with emotions. She hated to see her mother cry. Knew those tears were her fault.

Her mother cupped Zoë’s face. “You’re okay. You’re home. Oh bless the Lord. Charlie,” she yelled. “Our baby is home.” She took one look at Drew and her tears dried along with her excitement.

“Mrs. Davis.” Drew gave a nod.

Wow. Now this wasn’t something Zoë was expecting. If the disgruntled expression on her mother’s face meant anything, she was close to skinning Drew alive. The look her father gave him was even more loathsome as he walked outside. Then he turned to Zoë, his eyes misted, and he jerked her into his arms.

“Daddy,” Zoë cried. The wave of emotion she held back crumbled. She trembled. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for, angel?” He brushed her tears, but they kept falling one after the other.

“I—”

“No apologies. No regrets,” he whispered in her ear. “Just tell me you love me.” He hugged her closer like he would never let her go.

“I do.” Her voice quivered, short, gasping breaths. “I love you both so much.” For what seemed like forever, her father held her while she cried. She had wasted so much of her life running, running from the very people who loved her. When her father released her, she grasped Drew’s hand.

Both her father and mother took note of her action. They shared a look that Zoë couldn’t read, and then her father extended Drew his hand. “Drew.”

“Mr. Davis,” Drew returned.

“Oh my, what must the neighbors think? Come inside, you two. Have you eaten?” Her mother ushered them through the door.

The scent of fried chicken filled the air. Nothing had changed. It was Sunday and Sunday was fried chicken day. Zoë knew there would be fresh green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and maybe even a cherry or apple cobbler for desert.