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Sophie didn’t want to get into this. Martin had never kept his opinion of Chelsea and her free ways to himself. He’d thought Chelsea was a bad influence on Sophie, but Sophie ignored his misguided opinion. Chelsea died just after Sophie and Martin started dating, and Martin had offered a bit of comfort, but he just didn’t understand the pain.
“There were some pictures and a few other things I’d gotten her through the years.” Sophie turned and headed toward the living room. “Come on in and have a seat.”
Her hip was so much better since soaking in a hot tub. Falling in front of Zach still left her feeling ridiculous, and she hated even more the amount of concern and anger she’d seen in his eyes when he’d looked down at her lying on the floor.
After leaving Chelsea’s, Sophie had gone over and over in her mind about the revelation in those black binders. She had no clue what Zach would do with that information, but he’d asked her to keep it to herself, so she intended to do just that. Loyalties ran deep, even if their relationship had been severed.
“I can’t stay long,” he told her, as if there was ever a large chunk of time carved out for her. “I stopped by because I saw your porch lights still on, so I knew you were up.”
Of course he wouldn’t stay long. She totally understood he was a busy man. Still, just once she’d like to come first. They’d dated six months; maybe he was ready to move on. Maybe she was.
When he’d asked her out initially, she’d agreed to see him because, well, he was the exact type she’d been told over and over she should be looking for. Her parents had definite goals for her, but as time went on, Sophie realized her goals for herself were vastly different.
Dating Martin hadn’t been bad, just boring. Boring meant comfortable, and Sophie found herself afraid to step from her comfort zone. So here they were, months later, and Sophie wasn’t quite sure what step to take next.
She eased down on the sofa, but Martin simply leaned against the doorway. “Do you want to start seeing other people?” she found herself asking before she could filter the words.
Martin stood straight up, his eyes wide. “Why would you ask such a thing? Of course I don’t want to see other people.”
Sophie crossed her legs, tugging the edge of the robe over her thighs when the thin material threatened to slide open. “We’re both so busy, I just didn’t know if it was the workloads that kept us apart or if you were trying to tell me something.”
Martin crossed the room and sank onto the cushion next to her. Placing his hands on hers, he waited until she turned to face him before he spoke.
“You know we’re perfect for each other, Sophie. Our lives and backgrounds are so similar. We have the same vision for the future.” His thumbs stroked her knuckles. “This has just been a busy quarter, and we have another couple weeks of meetings. How about this Saturday we do something special? We’ll go to that new restaurant we’ve been meaning to get to for a month now. Nothing will interfere. I promise.”
The idea of him putting effort into their relationship warmed her. “Sounds good.”
“Have you heard from the Monroes about the property? I figured you would’ve called me with an answer by now.”
Sophie shook her head. While she knew where Zach stood, she wanted to wait until all the brothers had agreed on a decision. “They’re getting back to me by Friday. They wanted to think about the offer.”
Martin’s jaw clenched. “I would’ve thought with your strong connection you would’ve convinced them this was the best decision.”
“I gave them my opinion, but I can’t make them take the deal.” Irritated that he assumed she could wave her magic wand and get three very different men to agree on one major topic was ridiculous. “If they don’t want to sell, there’s nothing I can do. Or anybody else, for that matter. They’re pretty strong-willed.”
Instantly his face softened, and his hand came up to her cheek as he stroked her skin. “Sorry. Of course you can’t. I just know how much we would love to get that historical property. It could be renovated and really bring in more tourists.”
Laying a quick kiss on her lips, Martin came to his feet. “I need to get going. I’ll wait to hear from you on Friday about the property and I’ll call and get reservations for Saturday.”
Sophie walked him to the door. “I can’t wait.”
Martin pulled her into his arms and kissed her good night before walking out the door. Even though she didn’t get all tingly when they kissed, didn’t crave or ache for his touch, Sophie was realistic. She read way too many romance novels. There was a reason they were labeled “fiction.” People didn’t actually yearn for someone, didn’t have sensations shooting through them at just a touch.
No, what she and Martin had was easy. Isn’t that how relationships were supposed to be?
So why did she keep going back to how Zach had looked at her earlier? When she’d fallen, when she was leaving? Both times he looked torn, almost scared. And she’d definitely felt something beneath that heavy-lidded gaze of his.
Shutting off all the lights, Sophie headed back to her bedroom. The fact that Zach Monroe could make her insides tingle just proved her point. The romances she read about and realistic expectations were at opposite ends of the spectrum.
* * *
Zach popped the top off his Mountain Dew and made his way out to his deck. The sun had all but set and he’d lit a fire in the fire pit a while ago. Nothing like a fire on a late spring night to end a shitty day.
At stressful times like this he wished he still drank. That lesson had been learned—several times over, as a matter of fact. Between the raging alcoholic sperm donor that helped create him, the strung-out woman who brought him into this world, and the mess he made of his life at twenty-one, Zach had promised himself never again. Because he knew if he started right now, he might never stop. Drinking did help numb the pain, blocking the reality that always loomed in the near distance. Unfortunately, that haze had to wear off sometime, and those were the moments Zach never wanted to face again.
The last time reality had smacked him hard in the face and he’d come to, he’d seen Sophie and Liam unconscious and bleeding . . . because of him.
Glancing down at his scarred knuckles, Zach didn’t need the visual reminder. Every single day of his life he replayed the accident he’d caused. He replayed the terror that had gripped him. He could still feel the glass shatter against his skin, slicing deep as he busted the back glass in the cab of the truck to climb out and go find help. No matter the penance he paid in jail, no matter the distance he kept from Sophie, nothing would erase that nightmare movie that played over and over in his mind.
