Page 64 of The Sweetness of Life

Two knocks hit the front door and then it flies open. Zach strolls in, kicks the door shut behind him, and smiles when he sees me. Relief washes over me, and I let out a sigh. Running my eyes over the length of him, I look for anything that might be wrong, but he looks fine.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, the smile dropping from his face. I don’t say anything, and his attention shifts from me to the computer screen in front of me. He tenses.

“Why are you watching this?” Eyes still on the screen, his voice is deep and laced with emotion.

“I thought it would be fun to look you up online, but I didn’t know I’d be finding something like this.” My voice is quiet, and I’m certain he hears the guilt in it—guilt because I invaded his privacy, and guilt because one glance at the screen and he’s reliving this horrible moment in his mind.

“Well, now you know.” Slowly, he reaches past me and closes the lid of my laptop. His crystal blue eyes find mine, grief lingering on the edges.

“Not really. Will you tell me?” I scoot over and pat the spot on the couch next to me, but he doesn’t sit; he just shrugs.

“Not much to tell, but sure . . . later. Kyle and Michelle aren’t far behind me and should be here soon.”

“Okay.”

He moves into the kitchen, steps around the island, and puts down a couple bottles of wine and a lavender plant.

“What’s the plant for?” I pull it in front of me and breathe in the calming fresh scent.

“It’s for you. I know you want to take some lavender home, so this is my way of giving you flowers tonight.”

“Wow, Mr. Wolff, I’m impressed. Thank you.”

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gives me a small smile.

I’m pretty sure Zach will always have this air of confident authority surrounding him. He can’t help it; it’s who he is. Then, there are these scattered moments where he cuts pieces of honey out of a bee house and brings me a flowering plant that shows another side of him. It’s the loyal and thoughtful side I’m certain only those close to him see. It’s a side of him that’s so different from the one he originally showed me, in many ways I feel like I’m with someone else.

Moving over to the pot, he lifts the lid and peeks inside. “Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.”

“Thanks. It should be ready in another thirty minutes. How about you help me put out some appetizers?”

He returns the lid and throws me a crooked grin. “If by ‘put out’ you mean ‘eat them all’, then yes, I’d love to help you.”

Laughing, he reaches for me and wraps me up in his arms. Without heels on, my head slides right under his chin—the perfect fit.

“I’m glad you came a few minutes early,” I murmur into his shirt while inhaling fresh laundry and the outdoors.

“I am, too.” His arms tighten around me. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks, and I tilt my head back to look at him. He smiles and my heart trips over itself as his blue eyes sparkle at me adoringly. Lowering his head, he kisses the corner of my mouth with his warm lips. It’s such a simple move, but it feels so right.

Another knock sounds on the door, and both of us turn to look at it. Zach lets out a sigh and brushes his lips against my forehead before he releases me.

I give my plate a tiny nudge away from me and lean back in my chair. The meal turned out to be perfect, and I couldn’t have asked for a better night.

Originally, I planned for us to eat at the kitchen table, but once we opened the French doors to the back patio, there was no way we could stay inside. The sun had lowered behind the western side of the cottage, leaving us shaded and under the most gorgeous clear sky. There wasn’t a trace of humidity in the air, just the scent of the vines surrounding us.

“Shelby, hats off to you. This was one of the best meals I’ve had in so long,” Kyle says as he stretches his legs out and rubs his hand over his stomach.

“I agree.” Michelle nods at Kyle and then turns back to me. “I asked you to make a classic, and this hit the spot, all the way down to the pole beans.”

I glance at the now empty dish that had held the pole beans and then lean forward and whisper excitedly. “This little garden back here has surprised me more than once. I can’t believe you actually have pole beans growing back here. I felt like I struck gold when I saw them last week.”

Zach grins at me after taking another sip of his wine. “Only seems appropriate we have beans that grow on a vine versus a bush, don’t you agree?”

“I do, and I couldn’t have said it better. I grew up eating slow-cooked pole beans, so that’s why I made them tonight.” I also baked cornbread, and that dish is empty as well.

Crossing my legs, my foot bumps into the back of Zach’s calf under the table, and he reaches for it to hold it in place. He doesn’t outwardly acknowledge that I’m touching him, but his fingers trace over the arch of my foot and my anklebone. Tingles race up my leg, and I love it.