Wrapped in You (14 page)

The early summer sun had her squinting as she stepped out onto the sidewalk and walked the half block toward her car. The streets in town were becoming busier during the day now that school was out. More kids were playing in the park, splashing in the fountain, and riding bikes along the designated paths. Families were setting up picturesque picnics on checkered blankets, and Sophie couldn't help but feel that familiar tug on her heart at the sight.

With the park being across the street from her office, she often got a view of all the activities. She didn't feel self-pity for her circumstances. Pity wouldn't give her the ability to have children. But that didn't stop her from feeling that clench to her heart each time she saw a happy family.

She was human. She hurt. She'd like nothing more than to be immune to the sight of children running to their mom's or dad's open arms. Adoption was an option, sure, but she'd really like to be married before diving into that process.

And at this rate, she wasn't walking down the aisle anytime soon.

She also wasn't focusing on Zach. Nope. She refused to do so. She refused to relive over and over how amazing he felt against her, how he kept trying in some Zach-style way to protect her from himself. The man was noble to a fault, and damn if that didn't make him even more appealing each time he pushed her away.

As she slid behind the wheel of her SUV, she glanced at her watch. She'd be meeting him in just under an hour. Hard not to think of the man when she was constantly seeing him or . . . damn it. She couldn't
not
think of him. She tried, somewhat, but he just kept popping into the forefront of her mind.

He wasn't only stubborn in real life, he was quite infuriating in her thoughts as well.

Sophie focused on her potential sale as she went to meet the parties for signatures. Once she was finished, she drove toward the edge of town and up the small incline toward the property. Sophie absolutely loved this setting. The sprawling two-story Civil War–era home certainly had seen better days, but that was all cosmetic. With all the rich history and beauty, something with all this charm couldn't just be built. The old mossy oak trees had stood for decades, providing that perfect Southern backdrop for such a magnificent home.

Smiling as she approached the two-story mansion, Sophie could almost see the place as it had once been in its grandest of forms. She could picture horses and buggies coming up this slope, women in full skirts greeting their men as they came home from the war.

She glanced toward the two small cottages in the distance near the pond. If this place could talk, Sophie knew the stories would be epic.

Braxton's shiny truck sat next to Zach's beat-up work truck. A slight difference in the vehicles, much like the differences in the men themselves. One always seemed to be polished and put together. The other was rough around the edges but definitely reliable.

Leaving her bags in the passenger seat, Sophie slid her cell into the pocket of her skirt. The sun had really warmed things up today, so she left her cardigan in the car. Making her way up toward the front door, she made a mental note to figure out something grand for this entryway. The landscaping and path leading to the main entrance should really make a statement . . . something other than “this place has been neglected for decades.”

The old handle wiggled beneath her hand as she pushed the door open. The creaky hinges gave off a haunted-house vibe, but Sophie knew that was just another item in the long line of things that needed replacing. Though she hoped Zach found a door that was similar to the one currently hanging. She really wanted to capture the essence of the original house with some modern-day touches.

“Zach? Braxton?” she called, her voice echoing in the open empty foyer.

“Kitchen,” Braxton yelled back.

Sophie smoothed her hair back over her shoulders as she made her way toward the back of the house. The musty smell was almost overpowering, and she only prayed they didn't find mold, or at least a very minimal amount. Mold in older homes was a financial suck and extremely dangerous. The last thing they needed was too many unexpected problems, though renovating was never as simple as anyone planned and unfortunate expenses always happened.

As she stepped into the wide entryway leading to the kitchen, she spotted Braxton with his hands on his hips, standing over Zach, who was on his hands and knees beneath the old, rusty sink.

Zach muttered a curse from inside the cabinet and Braxton threw her a look. “He's getting crankier. You've been warned.”

“You mean it can get worse?” she joked.

Pushing out from beneath the cabinet, Zach came to his feet and wiped a hand down his face, no doubt ridding himself of the cobwebs he encountered. She recalled how much he hated spiders. Even as a rough and tough teen, he'd get one glimpse of a spider and start trembling and stomping on the thing until it was beyond dead.

Best not call him on his fear right now if he was in a mood. Then again, when was he not in a mood?

Still, he looked fantastic with dirt smudges across his face, his ratty T-shirt pulled taut across his broad chest and those holey jeans that fit his lean hips like the proverbial glove.

Whatever his mood was, it wouldn't ruin the scenery. He was still the sexiest man she'd ever laid eyes on, and she hadn't forgotten the image of him bottle feeding a puppy. Could the man be any more adorable?

Sophie bit the inside of her lips to keep from laughing. If she called him adorable she'd see a whole new side of grouchy.

“It's doable to rework the entire kitchen,” he stated, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “Damn it, I shouldn't have to. I've been over this and over it, and I know there was nothing wrong with the original plans.”

Sophie crossed her arms to ward off the chill of the old home, now wishing she'd grabbed her cardigan from the car.

“Martin did this, didn't he?” she asked.

Zach's dark eyes landed on her, sending a whole host of new shivers racing through her. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does if this has anything to do with me.”

Braxton stared back and forth between them before letting out a sigh. “Martin called, didn't he?”

Zach ignored the question as he walked around the perimeter of the spacious room. He studied the exterior walls, muttering under his breath, and the fact that he wouldn't address the question told her all she needed to know.

“I'll talk to Martin.” And let him know exactly how his misuse of power could get him into trouble, because acting like a toddler not getting his way, he was just asking to be called out. “Don't draw up any more plans for now.”

Zach jerked around. “Like hell you will. This has nothing to do with you, Sophie. Leave it.”

“Then tell me Martin didn't call you.” His eyes continued to hold hers, but she wasn't backing down. “He's abusing his authority and we all know it.”

“I'm not afraid of him,” Zach stated with a laugh. “He can't hold off on this forever.”

“So it was him who called you.”

Zach's eyes narrowed. “Drop it.”

“Can you two cool it so we can get this figured out?” Braxton asked. “Arguing won't fix this, and we need to get the building permit so Zach can get started and move in.”

“Damn it, Braxton!”

Sophie glanced from brother to brother. “What's going on? What does he mean, you're moving in?”

“Nothing,” Zach muttered, shooting death glares at Braxton. “Let's figure out the best layout.”

“No, I want to know what he meant,” Sophie insisted. “Why are you moving in here? You have a house.”

“I'm not getting into this.” Zach crossed to his notepad on the counter and started jotting something down. “I think the industrial stove we discussed will still work fine on this wall near the back door. There should be no problem running the exhaust out here. What do you guys think about keeping the fridge over here, too? For a cook, it would make sense and save steps.”

“You should ask Liam his opinion,” Braxton said.

“Yeah, well, he had his chance to help and chose not to.” Zach moved his gaze from the wall in question to his notes, as he scrawled down something else. “And the other exterior wall could have more cabinetry and a long counter for prep. I want to keep the sink in the new island.”

“Excuse me?” Sophie chimed in. “I'm not done with the topic of Martin or the fact you think you're moving in here. Can you guys please clue me in?”

Zach dropped his pencil and rubbed the back of his neck as he stared up at the ceiling. “I'm putting my house on the market. Martin will always be a pain in my ass, but nothing I can't handle.” He brought his eyes back down to her. “There. Can we move on now?”

Crossing the room to stand directly in front of the stubborn man, Sophie crossed her arms. “No, we can't move on. I want to know why you're selling your house.”

And why hadn't he called her to list it?

What was going on here? There was no way Liam knew this was going on, and this was one situation she wasn't going to clue him in on. It wasn't her place to tell.

“I don't have time for this. I'm figuring up the new plans, refiguring the cost for extra wiring, and the last thing I want to talk about is my house.”

Zach's voice was dangerously low, but Sophie was done tiptoeing around him and his moodiness.

She turned to Braxton. “What do you think about the sale?”

Braxton shrugged. “It's not my house, but I agree with Zach's reasoning and I'd do the same if I were in his shoes.”

“And Liam? What does he think?”

Braxton threw a glance over Sophie's shoulder. “We haven't told him yet.”

Sophie closed her eyes and sighed. There was so much hurt in the family, she didn't even know where to begin trying to help them patch all the pieces back together.

“Don't you think he should be in on that decision?” she asked, turning back to Zach, who kept his back to her as he studied his notes.

“He's coming in sometime this weekend,” Zach replied without facing her. “I'll tell him then.”

Before she could reply, Zach turned and brought that dark, intense focus directly down on her. “This is none of your concern.”

Why did he continue to say things to hurt her? Why did he act like she had no personal connection to this family? And more importantly, why was she standing there beating her head against a brick wall?

With a slight nod, Sophie backed up a step. “You're right. None of this is my concern. I don't know what I was thinking. Just because I was part of your family for years, I practically spent my teens in that house and loved your parents like my own, I couldn't possibly care about you guys or that house.”

She turned to leave when Zach called her name.

Sophie merely held up a hand and kept walking. She was done. Officially done with Zach Monroe and the way he treated her . . . treated everyone, for that matter. He'd not even mentioned anything to Liam, and regardless of the bad blood that flowed between them, Liam deserved to know what was going on.

Still, she wasn't the one to drop that bomb and she was washing her hands of this. If they needed help during the cosmetic phase, Sophie would step in, but only to honor Chelsea. Other than that, they were on their own.

Anger and hurt fought for top place in her heart, and she didn't know which one was crippling her more. As she reached her car, Sophie rested her hands on the top of the door and cursed herself for the blurry vision and the sting of tears. Zach Monroe wasn't worth it.

Okay, he was, but she deserved better. All this time he'd tried telling her that, but now she knew. He pushed and pushed her away, and now she understood why.

Why did she have to love a man who was so wrong for her? And why, even after all that just happened, did she still ache for his affection?

There was a level of hell that certain people belonged in for purposely hurting others. Zach was going to be first in that line after the way he'd treated Sophie earlier.

Damn it. He kept telling himself he wouldn't hurt her and he'd done nothing but. Over and over he'd said things, done things that only expanded that wedge of pain between them. He was best alone, because when he hurt, when he was scared, he lashed out, and every damn time, Sophie had been in the crosshairs.

Now here he stood on her porch, beneath the glow of the antique-style light above her door, ready to grovel if need be. He'd never groveled in his life.

Tapping his scarred knuckles on her door, Zach took a step back and waited. As much as he hated being there, he hated knowing he'd hurt her even more.

And speaking of hurt, his face still throbbed where Braxton had silently voiced his opinion on how Zach handled the situation earlier.

Sophie had been right, though. She'd grown up with Chelsea, loved his family like her own, and often sought refuge when she wanted to get out of the stuffy environment her parents provided. Sophie was part of his life, past and present, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Whether he wanted to face his true feelings for her or continue to hide them, she didn't deserve the ugliness he kept using as a defense mechanism.

The dead bolt clicked just before the door swung open. Sophie's eyes widened, then narrowed as she stared back at him. Pulling her silk robe tighter around her curvy body, she clutched the top of the vee. That damn robe . . . the same one his hands had itched to peel off her body the other night.

“What happened to your face?”

“Braxton.”

Sophie nodded as her cat slid against her leg and stared up at him. “Good.”

Leave it to her to not sugarcoat her feelings . . . exactly opposite of him, who hid behind his at every opportunity.

“Can I come in?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, feeling like a complete moron.

“Why should I let you? So you can hurt me again?”

Zach swallowed. He'd known he'd hurt her, damn it, but he hadn't been able to stop his words. Hearing her say it so boldly, though, did something to him that nearly crushed his soul. He'd die before he hurt her again.

“I want to apologize.”

She said nothing as Zach waited. Waited for her to slam the door in his face, which he deserved. Waited for her to step aside and let him in. Waited for her to verbally attack him and tell him what a jerk he'd been to her for years.

Without a word, Sophie turned and walked away, leaving the door wide open. The cat darted off down the hall, disappearing into what Zach assumed was a bedroom.

He figured the fact that she'd not slammed the door in his face was his cue to come on inside. He crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him, trying like hell not to inhale the familiar floral aroma that seemed to hover everywhere Sophie was.

When he stepped into the living room, Sophie was shuffling papers together on the coffee table. One slid to the floor and he crossed to pick it up for her, but froze when he saw the drawing.

A pencil sketch. Similar to the ones in Chelsea's old apartment. Similar to the framed prints in Sophie's office.

No, not similar. Exactly the same.

Zach stared another moment before looking back up at her. She held the other sheets against her chest as she stared down at the sketch he held.

“You drew all of these?” he asked, amazed that she had such talent and he'd never known about it.

“Give me the paper, Zach.”

“Why aren't you selling these?” His eyes roamed over the perfectly placed shadowing, the strong lines of the house.

He stared at a sketch of the Sunset Lake house and was utterly baffled at her ability to capture every single detail. She'd not portrayed the house as it stood now, but a vision of what it would be, what it probably once was.

“I was just doodling. No big deal.”

She reached for the paper and he let her have it. He'd already ingrained the image into his head and there was no way she was blowing this off as a random drawing or a hobby to pass the time.

Sophie took the stack of papers and laid them on top of an antique secretary in the corner of the room. When she turned back around, the opening in her robe had inched farther down, giving him a glimpse of something equally silky and lacy beneath.

He deserved this penance. She was all polished and perfection, smooth and classy. Zach was everything on the opposite end of the spectrum—rough, hard, and dirty.

“I shouldn't have said what I did earlier,” he started, knowing full well she wasn't going to say a word and the floor was all his. She wouldn't make this easy, but she hadn't kicked him out, so the fact that he was still there was more than he deserved.

“I can't take it back and I can't make it right, other than saying I'm sorry. When I hurt, I lash out, and you're the last person I want to be on the receiving end.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she crossed her arms and remained silent. Zach swallowed, wondering how much he should reveal, how far into his soul he needed to go in order to receive her forgiveness.

“I'm not using my pain as an excuse,” he continued. “There's no excuse for what I did. I know you love my house, I know you have memories there just like I do, and I know you care about my family, even though I've been an ass to you. But I can't focus on what's best for everyone and still carry out Chelsea's wishes, because at the end of the day, that's what I'm focusing on.”

Sophie nodded. “I know you are, Zach, but after all we've been through, after everything in our past, whatever is happening between us now only makes this new pain harder to deal with.”

He didn't want to address what was going on with them now. And he sure as hell didn't want to keep getting sidetracked by that creamy exposed skin.

“Nothing is happening now,” Zach stated, wondering if the words came out as strong as he'd intended. “You know why it can't.”

Sophie tipped her chin in defiance. “I know what I feel. I also know I'm done with trying to get you to open up to how you feel, to face that all of these emotions haven't gone away in years. Years, Zach. But if you haven't owned up to your feelings by now, you never will.”

She started across the room with a slight limp, her eyes never meeting his as she walked by. “You've apologized, now you can go and feel better about yourself.”

Zach remained still. He didn't feel better about himself. He didn't feel good at all, because even though he'd apologized, Sophie was still hurt. Years of his actions, or non-actions, had damaged her.

“Why do you feel anything for me?” he whispered as he stared at her back. “After all I've done, why?”

When they were teens he figured she'd developed a crush on him because he was Chelsea's brother, but Sophie hadn't looked at Braxton or Liam in such a manner. Then he'd wondered if she wanted someone opposite of her posh upbringing and stiff lifestyle. Being seen with the town bad boy would surely stick it to her snotty parents.

But the more he'd been around her, the more he'd seen she was with him because she liked him. He'd never questioned it until now. Perhaps he'd been too afraid of her answer.

With her back straight, she replied softly, “I'm not talking about this.”

Zach closed the space between them and stepped up behind her, not touching her, though he'd give anything to have that right.

“I need to know.” He inhaled her sweet, floral scent, closed his eyes for a brief second and savored the moment. “Help me understand what you see, Sophie.”

She whirled around, her eyes blazing. “You know what I see? I see a broken man who won't let anyone in. I see a man who has so many people who care for him, but he continues to push them away. I see a man who took in stray puppies because deep in his heart he cares, though he doesn't want to admit it.”

Zach listened to her, watched her lips move, and each time she moved her hands to emphasize the words, that robe slipped open a little more.

“I see a man who looks at me with desire and holds himself back,” she murmured. “A man who deserves to be happy, but won't afford himself the chance.”

Reaching out, Zach slid his rough fingertips over the silky edge of her robe and slowly pulled it back up over her exposed shoulder. When the material was back in place, Zach couldn't remove his hand. He kept telling himself to, but the message wasn't fully computing.

Sophie trembled beneath his touch, her eyes locked onto his. “Go, Zach. I can't take any more of this back-and-forth. Please—”

He cut her off with a kiss.

Zach wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her lush body in against his. Cupping her cheek with his other hand, he had no control over his actions. She'd begged him to go, not because she really wanted him to but because there was so much angst between them.

And kissing the hell out of her wouldn't solve anything, but it sure felt perfect right at this moment.

Sophie sighed and leaned further into him. Her delicate hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck. Her fingers slid through the hair on the nape of his neck and sent tingles down his spine. Tingles. He'd never experienced tingles with any other woman in his life.

Slowly easing her back against the wall, he placed a hand on either side of her head as he held her body up with his own. She fit against him perfectly . . . as if he needed any further confirmation of how amazing they'd be together.

But that didn't make it right.

Zach lifted his mouth, resting his forehead against hers.

“Don't say you're sorry,” she muttered. “Don't regret this.”

“I don't regret kissing you, Sophie. I regret knowing this can't go anywhere.”

Sliding her hands around, she framed his face and lifted his head to look him straight in the eyes. “I'm not asking you for anything, Zach. All I want is for you to be honest with yourself, with me.”

“You don't want my honesty,” he groaned.

“Maybe it's you who doesn't want to own up to the truth.”

How could this one woman reach inside his heart and squeeze it? How was it that anyone could have pegged him so perfectly?

Damn it, his hands were shaking.

“I want you,” he confessed. “More than anything I've ever wanted in my life. But there's so much about my past, so much darkness that I can't subject you to. And beyond sex, I have nothing to offer.”

“In case you haven't noticed, I'm not shying away from sex. And as for your past, I'm not afraid,” she told him with a soft smile. “You think I don't know you had a rough childhood? I may not know the details, but nothing you tell me would change how I feel.”

There were only a handful of people who knew the truth: the social workers and his parents. Chelsea had known some of what he'd been through because they'd shared stories on occasion.

But having that ugly truth enter Sophie's life, having her look at him with pity—or worse, disgust—would kill him.

Sliding his thumbs along her jawline, he watched as her lids lowered and her lips parted. Unable to help himself, he covered her mouth with his again.

He'd never taken such time with kissing a woman before, but he wanted to know Sophie's touch, taste. He wanted to know every bit of her, but he still couldn't let himself get beyond that last hurdle.

Because nobody had ever mattered as much as Sophie. There were other women, too many women, but they weren't Sophie. She'd always been special, always been on a higher level. And the fact that she made him face his feelings scared the hell out of him.

Pulling away, he stared down at her. Flushed from his kisses, robe falling off her shoulder again to tempt him with all that exposed skin, and her eyes filled with passion, Sophie was the most tempting woman he'd ever known, and she wasn't even trying.

“I'm going to go,” he told her, using every bit of his willpower not to take what she was offering. “I'm not leaving because I don't want you, I'm leaving because I do. I'm giving us both time to figure this out.”

Giving her time to change her mind and come to her senses.

“Ten years hasn't been enough?” she asked with a smile. “Don't make this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“For the first time in my life, I'm thinking something through.” Reaching out, Zach slid a finger over her forehead and pushed her hair away from her face. “Trust me, next time we're alone, if you still want this, you better be ready. It's all I have to give, and you need to be fully aware nothing could happen beyond the bedroom.”

“You better keep that promise, Zach, because I've been ready for you for years.”

Sophie's bold statement had him fighting to walk out her door and do the right thing. Now that she was fully aware that he was on board, she needed to think about this. Hell, he needed to process it fully himself.

Was he really going to get involved with Sophie? Did she really believe that this was not complicated? How could it
not
be complicated? Their twisted past had so many curves and highs and lows, he never knew what life was going to throw at them next.

But he knew one thing: He deserved a damn medal for walking out of her house knowing full well she was aching for him as much as he was for her.

* * *

“Are you sure you have time for this?”

Macy sat at the island in Zach's kitchen with a worried look on her face.