Taking the camera to humor her friends, Tabitha peered down at the screen and sucked in a quick breath. The shot was from the beach, when Zac was inspecting her for injuries. She was leaning back on her elbows, hair a wet, disheveled mess. Her back was arched in a way that almost looked purposeful. Zac was knelt between her legs, one hand squeezing her hip the other gripping her ankle. Water dripped from his clingy shirt and long hair, which had broken free of the bun he usually wore. He leaned forward, almost hovering over her like he was moving in for a kiss. Ready to ravish her there in the pebbles and sand. The looks on both of their faces with their blown pupils and parted lips could only be described as intense.
Ok, fine.
Lark and Frankie were right.
The picture was fucking sexy.
Chapter twenty-two
Zac
Zachadanuneventfulday off. After a quick trail run to Colchuck Lake, he’d showered and went over to Jon’s house to help Todd with more of the reno. But once they were done for the day, he was too keyed up to head home.
He parked his van at the end of Front Street and made for The Rooftop for a beer, secretly hoping he’d run into Tabitha. He was still buzzing from their bouldering outing and anxious for another run-in with his ex. No doubt, the chemistry was still there, even after sixteen years. What would be the harm in reigniting a short-term flame—as long as they both viewed it as such? He could practically feel the soft skin of her mile-long legs that were so flexible there was hardly any resistance in her thighs as he pushed them open. What would be so wrong with a little rendezvous?
Besides crossing the line with Tabitha. Or hurting her feelings. Maybe even enough to compel her to write a scathing six-page review for her magazine that screws with Jon and Lucy’s livelihood and then they boot him out of their lives so that he is friendless and jobless.
He paused near the bottom of the steps.
Ok, maybe there was a lot that could go wrong with reigniting an old flame.Thatflame in particular.
A different venue would be a better choice. Minimize the risk of running into the leggy redhead.
He rerouted and headed for Der Hoffenhaus, a sweet little outdoor beer garden that usually had live music every night of the week. He could grab a pint and perhaps a pretzel and duck out without imploding his world. Very mature. Very professional.
At the entrance counter, he ordered a Belgian wit and a jalapeño pretzel then took the frothy mug into the beer garden to sit and wait for his food. He found an open picnic table in the far corner and hunkered down to listen to the gentle folk band playing. One of the servers delivered his pretzel, and he devoured it in record time. He probably should have stuck around and helped Todd chip away at the Mexican leftovers. Even with the crew’s help, there was more than half left.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” The familiar snark made Zac nearly choke on his beer. Frankie grinned cheekily down at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Same thing you are.” She held up her mug and a paper plate piled high with totchos.
“No, I mean, here. Instead of The Rooftop.”
“Just because you never go anywhere else doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t either,” she teased. “Come join us. There’s plenty of room and plenty of food. I want to hear how your week is going.” Before Zac could ask who she was with, Frankie was off, weaving through the crowd of bistro tables.
Even though he wanted a moment of peace and solitude, the offer was still appealing. And if he didn’t join her, she’d think there was something wrong, and he didn’t want anyone trying to pry into his private life to ask a lot of questions. So he rose, beer in hand and trailed after his friend.
And stopped dead when he saw the perky red ponytail.
Tabitha sat at one of the bistro tables with a little fire pit in the middle, her back to him. Totally unaware of his approach. In a light green tank top, her sun-kissed shoulders were exposed. While a touch pink with burn, there wasn’t a single freckle, only a cluster of three little moles making up the three points of an equilateral triangle on her scapula. He remembered tracing that constellation with his fingers—and tongue—on countless occasions. Her trim waist cut in and curved out to a swell of generous hips. Curves she didn’t have all those years ago. Her little shirt ended before the top of her shorts began, exposing a new—at least to him—tattoo above one cheek. He’d give anything, every earthly possession he had, to see what design she’d chosen.
She listened politely to whatever blondie was saying with hand-flailing animation. His tabby cat was always so polite.
Please, Zac. Please don’t stop.
“I found us another friend.” Frankie’s chipper words pulled Zac from his inconvenient memories, and the moment Tabitha turned around and spotted him, he remembered his place. Her glowing smile fell, quickly replaced with a stiff, closed mouth grin.
“Zac,” a deep voice rumbled.
Ugh, of course this guy was there.
“Professor Benji. It’s been a while,” Zac crooned to Frankie’s boyfriend and former grad school professor. Zac’s use of the moniker was sure to get under the other man’s skin, which was his goal, until Frankie planted an elbow in his ribs. Zac turned to her and gave an apologetic look. Because while he didn’t love her chronically uptight and stoic boy toy, Zac owed the guy some low-key groveling. At the wedding, he hadn’t just disrespected the entire Miller clan, but also the man that the youngest Miller had been shacking up with. “Sorry. Hi, Benjamin.”
Benjamin did that thing where he tilts his head down and peers over his glasses, a real professor looking down on his student kind of move. And if the guy’s lips could be pursed any tighter, they’d probably fuse shut. The two men stared at each other until Frankie settled her hand on her guy’s leg and squeezed or pinched or something, because he flinched a little and attempted a smile-adjacent expression.
“It’s . . . good to see you?” Benjamin said with a shrug.
