Lee shook his head. “Your brother. Quite a powerhouse, hmm? And Ava’s marrying that?”
“Yeah.” Gavin chuckled. “She is. She loves the guy. Go figure.” And if she could handle Landon maybe, just maybe, Zoe could handle him. “So I guess I should talk some more?”
“That might be good. Tell me how you feel.”
“I feel…” He thought about everything he’d been through, a wringer of an emotional mess. His past, his present, his possible future.
“You feel?”
Gavin looked at Lee and smiled. “Better, Lee. I feel better.”
* * *
It had been two weeks since Zoe had seen Gavin. She missed him like crazy, but according to Ava, he was healing. Apparently, he’d really needed to let this pain go. It had been traumatizing but therapeutic, in a way his therapist—and Ava—hadn’t figured.
Then too, apparently Landon had gotten through to his brother with some head slapping and blunt words, more wacky therapy Ava was convinced would only work with someone as hardheaded as a Donnigan.
Zoe sighed and looked up at the periwinkle-blue sky, thankful to Hope for the invitation to finish with her friend’s gardens before the older lady returned. Hope thought Zoe had done such a great job that she’d invited Zoe to finish it. And needing her own kind of therapy to deal with missing Gavin so much, fending off Swanson’s attempts to give his new people extra training over everyone else, and dealing with her nosy aunt’s need to know if everything Cleo had told her was true—last time I share with Cleo—Zoe needed the break.
She hummed as she put a new lily in the container Hope had indicated. Apparently Hope was supposed to do it, but she’d killed off the last one after not watering it enough and not transplanting it in time.
Zoe cringed at the thought.
“Now what would you do if you were taken unaware, on your knees, and your attacker was a huge, buff guy standing just behind you?”
She blinked. Gavin?
“Yep. He’s just waiting for you to turn so he can—shit.” He dodged the trowel aimed for his groin—not that she would have hurt him for real—and disarmed her, then took her down to the ground, as gently as possible.
* * *
“Ah, is that how they normally interact, dear?” Peggy Bower asked.
The seventy-three-year-old owner of the house and her nephew stared at the spectacle outside by the flower bed.
“Um, not exactly,” Hope said, wondering what the hell her brother thought he was doing. Had he lost his mind completely?Romance, Gavin. Be romantic.
Peering through the blinds from the side window of the house, the three of them had thought to watch two parted lovers unite. Hugs and kisses, some tears, all set against the backdrop of the neighborhood’s most exquisite gardens.
Hope sighed. “It’ll get better.”
“I hope so,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I’m a little disappointed in Zoe, I have to say. I expected much more than this. And really. Do any of us buy that she really could have taken Gavin out with that trowel? I’ve seen him on the racquetball court. He’s a beast.”
His aunt shook her head. “No. But the girl has moves.”
“Shh.” Hope held a finger to her lips. “Let’s watch.”
* * *
Zoe looked like she wanted to flip him to his back, but he held the upper hand. “Gavin?”
“Hey, Pink Yoga Pants.” He smiled down at her choice of attire, approving. “How are you?”
“Isn’t that my line?”
He held her wrists down, hoping she had no real plan to escape. God, she looked good. Gorgeous, sexy, a little bit thin, but if she’d let him, he planned to fatten her up as soon as he could.
He sighed, so in love with her. Andtryingto be worthy. “I’m so sorry, Zoe. It was not one of my better days.”
