Once they were closer, Gertie said, “Smile dear,” snapping a picture. “This one’s going on my Facebook. Might title it Mrs. Zoe Hawthorne!”
“Mom,” Zoe hissed under her breath, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m just having a bit of fun, but I’ve never seen you so happy. You’ve got a glow about you.”
Zoe’s heart squeezed. She tried for a laugh, light and easy, but it came out brittle. “It’s just the spring sunshine, Mom.”
“Nonsense.” Gertie wagged a finger. “It’s him. You’re happy, and I’m happy. Nothing makes a mama’s heart prouder than seeing her baby girl smiling again. After everything you’ve been through…” Her voice hitched, eyes misting. “You deserve this.”
Zoe’s throat closed. She couldn’t stand the way her mom’s gaze made her feel like she was standing on the edge, one step away from falling off the cliff.
Beside her, Jackson cleared his throat gently. “We’re going to grab some food. Can we get you anything?”
“Oh, don’t let me keep you,” Gertie said brightly, stepping aside. “But Zoe, honey? You hold onto this one. He’s a keeper.”
Zoe forced a smile that felt like it might shatter at the edges. “Yeah, Mom. I know.”
As they walked on, the sound of their boots hitting the pavement filled the silence. Jackson kept his eyes forward, jaw tight, like he hadn’t heard.
But Zoe knew he had.
Because her heart was still hammering at the look her mom had given her—like she already believed Zoe had found forever.
And Zoe wanted that to be true so badly she could hardly breathe.
TWENTY-TWO
JACKSON
Saturday, March 15th
The energy of the festival hummed through him as Jackson walked Zoe back to the flower shop so she could grab a few things for the fish fry. She unlocked the shop door, the little bell chiming overhead. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, already halfway to the stairs.
He nodded, though his throat felt a little tight. “I’ll wait down here.”
The door at the top of the stairwell clicked shut, leaving him alone among the scent of roses, lavender, and Zoe’s perfume. It wrapped around him, curling through the air.
He should’ve been thinking about the picnic, or the hike, or literally anything else. Instead, his eyes traced the banister where her hand had just been, his mind conjuring the sway of her hips as she’d run up the steps.
If he were her real boyfriend, he wouldn’t be standing here pretending to study the bouquets in the window. He would’ve gone with her. Maybe they’d have stolen a few minutes. It would be hot and fast. He could picture her bent over the back of thecouch, fingers clutching the fabric, breathless as she moaned his name while he drove into her.
The image hit him hard enough that he had to shift his weight, adjusting himself before the door creaked upstairs. He dragged a hand over his jaw, trying to push the fantasy back where it belonged. Because once the door shut and they were behind closed walls, everything was supposed to be normal.
When Zoe came back down, Jackson couldn’t help but notice she’d changed her shirt. The deep V-neck tee was fitted, soft cotton clinging. The earth tone warmed her skin, contrasting the blue of her eyes.
“Sorry to take a while,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t find my picnic blanket. And I was getting a bit hot out there.”
That was just the way springtime was in Maple Falls. You’d wear jeans and sweatshirts in the morning, then short sleeves by the time the sun climbed high.
“All good,” Jackson said, straightening. “Ready to head back over?”
Zoe tucked a floral patchwork quilt under her arm. “Absolutely.”
The mayor’s voice boomed from the microphone as they neared the park once more.
“Ten pounds, fourteen ounces! Folks, that’s our leader! If anyone can beat that, you’ve got fifteen minutes left to try!”
Zoe laughed softly. “He takes this way too seriously.”
