“We didn’t even get to the good stuff, tabby cat—”
“I’m being serious,” she clipped, possibly a little too harshly considering.
“I know, I’m only teasing.” He ran his hands over his neat-as-it’s-going-to-get hair and blew out a breath. “You’re right. It’s a bad idea. This is my work—both of our careers.”
“Exactly.” While she was relieved he understood, it wasn’t the resounding emotion she felt. Disappointment marred the moment as she thought about what she nearly had.
Not the sex.
Not the beardy fun.
But the connection. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Let’s haul out.” Zac grinned sadly then turned and squeezed himself between the front seats and fired up the van. “You comin’, Tabitha?”
She flinched at the use of her proper name then mumbled to herself, “Apparently not.”
Chapter thirty-three
Zac
“Notacostoday?”Toddteased playfully as he opened the front door at the Millers’ house and found Zac standing there empty handed. Zac shuffled inside, feeling utterly drained.
“Not for me,” he grumbled, smirking mirthlessly as he thought about the false start with Tabitha earlier that afternoon.
“It’s just as well. There’s still half the containers left in the fridge.” He wove through the living room and into the kitchen as Zac followed. “Hungry?”
“Nah. Thanks. I’d rather get to work.” Zac could barely tolerate his own voice. What a sad sack. He shouldn’t be moping over what had happened—or rather, almost happened—with his ex earlier. Instead, he should be dancing the jig of a man who’d barely avoided disaster. He had important things on his plate, namely, earning back the trust and respect of his best friend. Shit, could he even earn back something he’d never had to begin with? Zac had been too busy in his adult life chasing women and following flights of fancy that he’d developed the reputation of the unreliable one in the group. But he’d been tipping the scales bit by bit. Honing his focus.
And of course, that was the moment Tabitha had to waltz into his life and derail the whole thing.
He shook his head. It wasn’t her fault. It’s not like she’d sought him out. She was assigned this article and happened to coincide with Zac taking the biggest professional swing of his life. And he almost blew it back at his van . . . between her legs.
Fuck.
Zac glanced to where Todd stood in the kitchen, frozen in place, holding two beers and wearing an expression of concern. Zac shrugged. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Todd approached and set the cold can of Rainier on the counter. “I was only wishing I had mind reading powers so I could hear the argument going on in your head.”
“Is that all?” Zac swiped up the beer, mumbled his thanks, and took a swig.
“But since I’m not a mind reader, perhaps you could allow me access to your inner turmoil. Let me take a look and see if I can help.” Todd sat on one dining room chair and patted the one next to him.
“I’d rather work.” Zac quickly downed his can. “Gain a little sweat equity while I wallow in the misery that I brought on myself. That cool with you?”
“Sure,” Todd replied gently. “The nursery needs one more coat of paint.” He brushed past Zac without another word and strode down the hall.
“Can you give me a haircut?”
Todd halted his angled brush and peered down at Zac from his spot on the ladder. They’d spent the better part of an hour in the twins’ future nursery applying the final coat in complete silence aside from a few sighs from Todd as he cut the paint into the corners.
“Now he wants a makeover,” Lucy’s best friend scoffed incredulously.
“Well? Can you?” Zac felt his cheeks heat under his beard.
“Aren’t there barbers here in Leavenworth?”
“Sure, but . . . never mind.” Zac shook his head. “Forget I asked.”
