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Agnes gave an approving nod. "You're a good boy, Ian. My grandson could learn a thing or two from you."
Agnes said her goodbyes and tottered off just as Zoe launched herself back into the truck.
"Got yourself a hot date?" she asked.
Ian frowned. "Not exactly. That was my mother's friend Agnes."
"What a weird place to run into her."
"Not really," Ian supplied then pulled back onto the street, wending his way around the familiar back roads. "I grew up here. My parents still live here."
Zoe blinked. "Your vacation house is near your parents?"
"Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?" he asked.
"No, no, just… I hardly know anybody whose parents are still together, let alone anybody who wants to be near them."
"Well, strap in, then, because we're going to have to go see them."
"What do you mean?"
"Now that Agnes has seen me, there's no stopping my mother from finding out I'm in town, and once she knows…" He shook his head. "Let's just say I'm dead if we don't at least have a cup of coffee over there."
"Fine, but we'll make it quick, and we'll check your house first. For Quinn," Zoe said.
Ian nodded as he pulled onto the shore-front street that led to his house. At the very edge of the property, he parked his truck, and Zoe stared back at him.
"What?" she asked. "Why'd you stop?"
"We're here." He gestured to the house. Which, okay, wasn't completely finished, but he didn't think it called for complete incredulity. It had windows and walls, if not shutters, and the bright white stucco on the outside of the house had been recently done to match the cool gray cement of the outdoor sunken fire pit.
"This is your house?" Zoe asked.
"Yeah. What's wrong?"
"It's just…It's right on the water. And it's so beautiful." She slid from the car and grabbed her bag He followed her, watching as she gaped at the wrought-iron entry way and pretty, glass front door.
"Did you do all this yourself?" she asked.
"I designed it. I work on it when I can. I did the kitchen most recently, though."
Without a word, she walked down the tiled foyer and into the wide, bright kitchen. Sliding doors led out to the patio and pier on the edge of the lake. She touched the glossy white cabinets and marble countertops in turn. "This place is incredible," she murmured, and he grinned just in time to have it fall away again.
On the little bar peninsula on the patio outside, there was an empty pint of tequila that hadn't been there before. Alongside it was a wedding veil that must have been left in the rain from the night before.
"Zoe," he said. "Come here." She turned and followed his gaze to the place where he was pointing, and his heart skipped.
He hadn't meant to out Quinn. He really hadn't.
But the light behind Zoe's eyes… the hope there…?
He couldn't help but feel more conflict than he'd ever felt before.
"Well, she's obviously not here at the moment," he said. "Maybe my parents have seen her, though. She knows them well enough that she might have stopped by. We'll go over there and then come back and check for her."
"Right," Zoe nodded. "Okay."
"You can leave your bag in the guest room."
