“Not that I’ve seen. She drives into Eugene every few weeks, picks up a bunch of stuff at the warehouse store.”
“Does she stay overnight?”
Mel placed a hand over Zoe’s. “Oh, my God . . . yes. She said she didn’t like to drive that much in one day . . . wanted to use the break.”
“She is totally getting laid.”
Mel slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Why wouldn’t she tell us?”
Zoe returned to her stuffed mushrooms. “I think she just did.”
“That explains the spring in her step.”
There seemed to be a spring in everyone’s step these days.
“Hello? Anyone home?” The voice was male, and Mel seemed to know exactly who it belonged to.
“William?” She bounced off the chair and darted to the reception area of the inn.
Zoe went back to work and let Mel greet her future in-laws.
The back screen door slammed again, followed by the sound of Hope running through the house.
“Grandpa Bill and Grandma Kay are here!”
The kid whizzed by, Sir Knight running to keep up.
Zoe considered suggesting Hope not run in the house, then reminded herself that she was the aunt, not the parent. Cool aunts added sugar, they didn’t bitch about things like messy shoes and dogs.
On the other hand, a dog in her kitchen wasn’t going to fly.
Zoe kept on cooking as she heard the weekend guests arrive. About an hour before the party was going to begin, Zoe placed one of the last trays in the oven, removed her apron, and left her post to change.
Mel had wrangled a couple of the young servers at Sam’s to help pass around trays during the party.
Zoe slipped up the back stairs and into her room. She rinsed off quickly and slid into a little black dress. She wondered if the lack of sleeves would be a problem, then remembered the sheer number of people that would be mingling all night.
She added a little blush, a splash of mascara on her lashes, and sparkly gloss on her lips. With one last brush through her hair, Zoe tucked her polished toes into a pricy pair of heels that she never thought she’d own.
Instead of sneaking down the back steps, Zoe took the sweeping staircase in the front of the house.
Laughter-filled voices rose from below, and music played in the background.
The front door to the inn opened when she reached the halfway point of the stairs.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller filled the doorway, pie in hand.
Zoe’s heart warmed with the sight of them. She glanced beyond but didn’t see Luke.
“Mrs. M!” Her name was Audrey, but Zoe always called her Mrs. M.
“Look at you.” Mrs. M was all smiles and open arms.
Zoe took the last steps right as Luke walked in.
She hesitated, her gaze no longer on his mom.
Her vision tunneled, and all she saw was him. Decked out in slacks and a long-sleeved button-up shirt, one that stretched across his chest and told her he wasn’t afraid of physical labor. The only times Zoe had seen him in something other than jeans was when he took her to prom and homecoming.
Her mouth watered.
Luke’s eyes traveled over her like a caress. The room felt hot with his gaze.
Mrs. M was saying something.
Zoe missed it completely.
Luke broke eye contact and took the pie from his mom’s hands. “Hey, Zoe.”
He’d always played it cool like that. “Mrs. M,” she said again, this time giving the woman a warm hug in welcome. “It’s good to see you.”
“You’re too thin.”
Zoe hugged her harder. “I love you, too.”
She chuckled.
Zoe hugged Luke’s father and quickly excused herself to the kitchen, where she smelled her food cooking. Hopefully no one had messed with her oven while she was away.
The parlor was filled with familiar faces she had every intention of seeing throughout the night, but first she needed to put the finishing touches on her dishes and tell the kids what to serve first.
The click of her heels followed her into the kitchen. She rounded the corner and found Luke’s arm snaking around her waist and his lips treating her with an unexpected kiss.
She melted.
“You’re gorgeous,” he muttered after breaking away.
Her thoughts were mush . . . why had she entered the kitchen? “You’re distracting.”
“Good.” Luke patted her ass and pushed her toward the oven.
The oven . . . her oven.
Luke was about to leave when it was her turn to stop him. Zoe grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her lipstick from his lips. “Behave yourself,” she whispered before taking his lead and patting his ass as he left the room.
Chapter Eight
Mel held a perpetual smile as she floated from one guest to another, Wyatt at her side. The two of them fit like pieces of a puzzle. Zoe knew the moment she met the man that they were destined for this massive step. She couldn’t be happier for her.
The photographer in charge of capturing images of the engagement party was one of the track students Wyatt coached. The thinly built sixteen-year-old came equipped with acne, a digital camera, and a lot of ambition. He also came to the party with a sixteen-year-old assistant who sported a D cup.
Jo stood beside Zoe, wearing her uniform since her deputy was out with a stomach bug and she needed to be available to run out if something came up.
“Did our resident paparazzi just grab a cup of Miss Gina’s special lemonade?” Jo asked.
She’d already seen the kid grab a red cup and pour it into a soda can. “Yep.”
Jo grumbled.
“I have ya covered.”
Jo hated playing the heavy when it came to teenagers. A side product of her youth. Zoe didn’t mind stepping in so her friend wouldn’t have to.
“Is your mom coming?”
Zoe kept eyeing the front door, wondering the same thing. “She said she was, but who knows.”
Luke’s laughter caught Zoe’s attention from the other side of the room. She found herself watching him.
He was relaxed. More than she’d seen him in all the time they’d spent together since she left River Bend after high school.
“What is going on with you two?” Jo whispered the question in her ear.
“What?”
“Luke?”
“Nothing.” The knee-jerk denial sounded harsh, even to Zoe.
Jo offered a cold, hard stare. “I was there when you told me and Mel you lost your virginity to that man. And second, I’m a cop. Would you like to rephrase ‘nothing’ for me?”
Heat filled Zoe’s cheeks. “I don’t know,” she revised. “Nothing should be happening.”
“But something is.”
“He came to Texas.”
Jo laughed. “So did I.”
Zoe kept staring at Luke. “Yeah, but you didn’t take my virginity.”
Jo choked on her soda.
Another glance around the room prompted Zoe to take care of the adolescent photographer sooner than later.
She approached the kid with her palm up.
His eyes traveled from her palm to her cleavage, the voyeur. “You want my camera?” he asked.
“Your car keys.”
The braces on his teeth flashed as he smiled. “Excuse me?”
Zoe let her eyes dart to Jo across the room.
Paparazzi followed her gaze.
“I’ve been drinking Miss Gina’s lemonade since you were in diapers. Hand over the keys, kid.”
He turned a little white and dug into his pocket.