Staying For Good (Most Likely To #2)

“Sounds easy enough, what’s the problem?”

“Nice neighborhoods equal huge homes. I can find a smaller place in a crappy part of town.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’ll find something.”

“I’m sure you will, baby cakes. You’re not working too hard, I hope.”

“Of course I am. Isn’t that what we all do?”

He shrugged. “I’m glad you’re taking time off to visit us. I take it Mel and Wyatt are the reason for the visit.”

“I couldn’t leave them with pigs in a blanket and boxed cookies for their engagement party, now could I?”

“You’re more than just a meal ticket.”

She knew that . . . but the food was a bonus.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He leaned forward. “Are you making those little shrimp puff thingies?”

Zoe rolled her eyes and patted his belly. “Like you need them.”

“True . . . but I’m not getting any younger, ya know. Don’t see you all that often.”

She loved the feeling of being wanted. “I have ya covered, Mr. M.”

He winked, just the way Luke did.

“Are you harassing her, Dad?” Luke had changed his shirt and run a comb through his hair. Even his hands were cleaned from all the grime and grease.

“Just helping her out with menu options.”

“Can I count on Mrs. M’s banana cream pie?”

“I’ll let her know you have a special request. Maybe get a few pounds on those bones of yours.”

Such a contrast between Luke’s parents and her mom . . . it made her both happy and extremely sad.

Sensing the shift in her mood, Luke took her arm. “I’m taking a coffee break,” he told his father.

“You kids have fun. I have things covered here.”

Instead of leading her back to the rental car, Luke pulled her toward his bike.

She hadn’t been on the back of the thing since she was eighteen.

He handed her a lone helmet and straddled the bike.

Zoe popped on the helmet and tightened the straps without words before climbing up behind Luke.

The bike roared to life and she let her arms crawl around Luke’s waist.

As they pulled out of the parking lot and onto Main Street, everything inside her clicked. And for the first time since she returned to River Bend, Zoe felt completely at home.





Chapter Seven




The back of Grayson’s farm was a normal hangout spot when they were kids . . . so were the back of the bleachers, the back of his truck, the back of Miss Gina’s B and B . . . but the farm was far out of town and away from prying eyes. Also, a wooded spot separated the farm from the cliffs that jutted down to the ocean. The trees kept the wind off the water from being unbearable, and the moisture had always helped Grayson’s crops back when the man actually planted them.

Feeling Zoe’s arms around him as he drove to a place they were both familiar with warmed him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

She was hurting. And true to Zoe fashion, she came to him when she was. At least that was how it had been when they were kids. Even last year, during their high school reunion, she’d broken away from the party twice and needed to bend his ear. She always said he was a good listener. As a kid, he never offered advice on how to fix her problems. How could he? They were just that, kids. He feared now he would have advice she wouldn’t want to hear. He’d always wanted to fix her problems growing up . . . now that he was older, he felt like maybe he could.

He brought his bike to a stop and cut the engine.

Zoe didn’t move. “It hasn’t changed.”

“Trees are a little bigger.”

She released her arms from his waist, her warmth instantly missed. She shook her hair out when she set the helmet aside.

“Remember homecoming?”

How could he ever forget? He’d planned to go to the dance, then take a trip to the place they were standing . . . he’d even pitched a tent with blankets to offer some protection against the cold if they ended up naked. Then Jo showed up more than a little drunk, her date completely hammered. Mel had driven them and her date was utterly sober. The six of them ended up snuggled in a four-man tent with no one getting lucky.

“You were so mad.”

“I was not.”

“Were too. Jo was out of control back then. Hard to believe how much she’s changed.”

Luke glanced up into the thick of the pine trees. “Oh, I don’t know. She looked a little more like herself with you in Dallas.”

“Her badge is a little like a noose around her neck.”

“I’ve always thought the same thing. She makes a damn fine cop, though.”

“Still happy she did it . . . the whole sheriff thing. The alternative would have been bad.”

He agreed but didn’t want to continue talking about Jo. He wanted to know what was eating at Zoe. “What happened with your mom?”

Luke leaned against a tree while Zoe recounted the play-by-play of her brief visit with Sheryl. He knew how passionate Zoe’s hatred for her dad was, so hearing that part of her story gave him pause. The real killer was hearing about Sheryl’s complete disregard for all of Zoe’s hard work. She took chances, had student loans that put her though culinary school. The woman worked her butt off and deserved more respect than her mother offered.

“You’re more than just a cook,” he told her.

“I know that. But it hurt. When will her words no longer hurt, Luke? I’m a grown woman.”

“And she’s your mother. We’re all kids around our parents at times.”

“What was that shit about Ziggy? It’s like she’s completely forgotten the black eyes and broken bones.”

They hadn’t been dating when Ziggy ended up in the state penitentiary. He knew the man was a douchebag but didn’t know how bad Zoe and her family had it until after she opened up to him. Even then, Luke was sure Zoe left stuff out of her conversations with him. Luke had always counted the timeline of them dating as a blessing. If Luke saw Ziggy raising a hand to Zoe, it would have been him in jail.

“I know it sucks, but I don’t think there is anything to worry about. It isn’t like your mom can invite the man over for dinner.”

A look of doubt crossed Zoe’s features.

“What?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “What is it?”

“He’s up for parole.”

“Isn’t he up every year now?”

“Yeah, but . . . it isn’t like he killed someone. Fifteen to life in my book means after fifteen years it’s all a crapshoot.”

“Hasn’t it been more like twenty?”

“Seventeen.” Her voice wavered.

“You’re really worried about him getting out.”

She did what Zoe did . . . she tried to blow it off. “Jo says it’s unlikely he will ever be free. Prison fights and added time.”

That was a good thing. “You still worry.” Zoe always worried, even if she hid it from the rest of the world.

“After hearing my mom talk, I’m worried that if he did get out, she’d welcome him back.”

“You think she’d do that?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’ve always wondered why she never dated after he was sent away.”

“Did you ever ask?”

Zoe shook her head. “No. I asked her years ago if she divorced him.”