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Thus, when Zach said “Mornin’” right behind her, Lyra jumped and squealed. The knife clattered to the cutting board and would have dropped to the floor, but Zach caught it on the way down.
Great reflexes and all, but that was a pretty dumb move on his part. Luckily, he got it by the handle.
“Sorry! You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine. Just focused, I guess. I didn’t hear you come into the room.” She took the knife from him and then finally met his eyes.
Oh.
The way he was looking at her, Lyra felt like they were naked together and back in bed. She’d never felt anything like the way this man made her feel simplylookingat her.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey,” she echoed.
A nothing word exchanged, but the silence between them was an epic poem. A love poem to rival anything Pablo Neruda had written.
Basking in Zach’s attention, Lyra began to understand how she felt about Tommy’s death: sorry that he’d died in such a terrible way, deep sympathy for his family’s loss, a keener horror about the shooting itself, and a kind of grief of her own. An ache of nostalgia, a loss of the boy she’d known. He hadn’t become a very good man, but he’d been a nice boy, and she’d loved that nice boy.
She took a deep breath and found her equilibrium. There might be tears to shed for Tommy, but not right now. Now her eyes could only feast on the man before her.
“Zach,” Pop said, and Zach blinked and looked toward the table.
“Mornin’, Ben. Um ... thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“You and me, we’re not gonna talk about my daughter, not unless I got reason to give you a piece of my mind. Or more. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Reed’s over at the rental already. After breakfast, we’ll ride over. We’re meant to meet up with Patrick in about an hour.”
“Yeah, I got a call from Coop saying we’re meeting the real estate guy in an hour, so I guess that’s Patrick.”
“It is.”
“Alright.” Zach turned back to Lyra. “Can I have some coffee?”
“Of course. The pot should be about ready. Mugs are in the cupboard there, milk’s in the fridge, sugar’s on the table. I’m just doing toast and melon for breakfast, since you guys are heading out. Unless you want more?”
“Toast and melon sounds great. Thank you.” He set his hand at the small of her back and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lingering there just long enough to set her heart fluttering.
“I want to see you later. That okay?”
“Very.”
“What’s your day like, Lyra?” Pop called from the table.
“Um, I don’t know. Maybe I should go over to see Mrs. Como, pay my respects?” When Zach’s brow drew tight with a question, she told him, “The newspaper printed a list of the victims who’ve been publicly identified. Tommy was one of them.”
“Tommy? You mean the ... guy who came up on us at the casino that night? Your ex?” She nodded, and he took a surprised step back. “Shit! Are you okay?”
Lyra knew at once that she would look back on this moment and say that it was the precise moment when she fell in love with Zach Jessup. His only interaction with Tommy had been negative, outright hostile, and the few times they’d spoken of Tommy, Lyra had not been especially kind. He didn’t like Tommy, and he might have considered him a kind of rival, but his first thought was for her—and assumed that she would feel pain at Tommy’s death.
No dent in his perfection yet.
She put her hand on his cheek and smiled. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
He pulled her into a hug. It was snug and complete, and Lyra relaxed into it and felt calm. That calm held when they separated.
