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Even as he spoke, the description struck him as less than satisfactory after what had just happened between them, and he was surprised when she winced away from the compliment.
“I’ve never known...” She trailed off without finishing her thought. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
Her fingertips created swirls on his sweat-dampened shoulders. He watched her face, trying to read her expression and guess at her thoughts. It turned out he didn’t yet know her as well as he hoped because he had no idea what was behind her pensiveness.
“Until now I’ve only ever been with one man.”
That one man being her husband. Ryan didn’t respond and shifted his gaze to the ceiling, giving her space to share and work through what was on her mind.
“I suppose in this day and age that seems very backward,” she continued in a rueful tone.
Once again she was making assumptions about his opinions. Why did she always believe that her choices were the wrong ones?
“Not necessarily.” Ryan dusted his fingers down her spine. “You were young when you got married.”
“Not that young. I was twenty. Lots of girls have sex in high school.”
“Not everyone is ready to take that step so early.”
“I don’t know if I was or wasn’t. Boys didn’t notice me. I was too quiet. Utterly forgettable.”
“Now that I don’t believe.”
If he’d met her at seventeen would he have been equally blind? Probably. Only a mature man could appreciate a woman with complex layers. Had that been the case with her ex-husband? There had been a ten-year age gap between them. Yet from everything Zoe had—and hadn’t—said about her ex, it didn’t sound like the man had wanted to cherish, only to control.
“It’s true. I was pretty socially awkward. I still am. As Tristan’s wife I learned to handle myself in public, saying all the right things, joining the right groups, making the right friends.” Bitterness gave her voice a sharp edge. “I lost sight of who I was.”
“I think most people wear some sort of façade in public,” he said. “We want to fit in and be liked.”
“You don’t do that.”
His tone was firm as he said, “We all do it.”
“Until I met you I’d forgotten how nice it was to speak my mind and not worry about the consequences.”
Consequences? Ryan frowned. What sort of cost had she endured just because she’d voice her opinion? His chest tight with emotion, Ryan wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.
Playing the part of Zoe’s hero might lead him down a dangerous road. The last time he’d tried to rescue a damsel in distress it had backfired spectacularly. Yet tonight he’d embarked on a journey. A first step back to trust. And Ryan couldn’t bring himself to slow down.
Eight
Zoe caught herself humming as she worked on the books in her “office” in the back room of Second Chance Treasures. For the first time since she’d signed the lease, Zoe glimpsed light at the end of the tunnel and knew they were going to be okay. The relief made her feel lighter than air.
Or maybe her positive outlook had more to do with Ryan.
After being married to Tristan for eight years, she was cynical enough to attribute her happy glow to all the fantastic sex she and Ryan were having, but deep down she acknowledged there was more to it. She enjoyed hanging out and talking with Ryan. And the man actually listened while she went on and on about her hopes for the store and the challenges of helping victims of domestic abuse. He didn’t shy away from her need to vent and Zoe valued that as much as she did his glorious kisses.
“Here’s the mail,” Jessica said, setting a stack of envelopes on the desk and startling Zoe out of her musing. “Is it okay if I head to lunch in ten minutes?”
“Sure.” She realized it was nearly noon. She saved the spreadsheet she’d been working on and closed her laptop. “I’ll just go through the mail real quick, and then come up front.”
“No hurry. The morning rush has mostly cleared out and Eva mastered the register really fast.”
With the store’s desperate and immediate financial pressures eased somewhat, Zoe had hired Eva to replace Magnolia. Like Jessica, Eva had a school-age child, a daughter with her mother’s blond hair and big brown eyes. She had a neighbor who could watch the little girl on Saturdays so Eva could pick up some extra hours at the store.
In the wake of the theft, Zoe had pondered what to do about reporting the stolen money. After much soul searching, she’d chosen not to pursue legal action. Magnolia had never struck her as a thief. If she needed the money that badly, her situation must have been desperate. And Zoe was all too familiar with how that felt.
