LITMIR.BIZ

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did get in the last cold words. “I told you how sorry I was the night it happened and again at your mother’s funeral. I phoned you and wrote letters that came back unopened. I’m through groveling, Kris.”

      Kristin managed to cling to her anger and keep her tears at bay until she pulled into the concrete drive beside her town house and entered her apartment. Then there was no holding back.

      Dammit, she thought as the tears fell. She wasn’t responsible for their breakup! He was. His immaturity—not his insecurity—was to blame. And after thirteen years, why did she still care what he thought or didn’t think?

      But minutes later as she stood in the kitchen holding more ice to her cheek, the scene outside Zach’s motel room came back to her.

      Was there a kernel of truth in what he’d said? Had she, unknowingly, been looking for excuses to put off their wedding?

      She’d been completely devoted to him—no one could tell her that she hadn’t been. But at eighteen, had she been ready to leave her home and family to start a new life in a new state? Could she have been making excuses that she wasn’t even aware of?

      Kristin threw the ice into the sink and heated water for tea. The hold he still had on her was incomprehensible. Tonight, she’d been shoved down half a flight of steps, locked in an attic stairwell and frightened to the soles of her feet.

      And still, all she could think of was Zach.

      Zach jerked open his briefcase on the bed, shuffled through the copies of the strip mall estimates he’d brought along with him, then dropped to the bedspread and picked up the phone again. He cradled the receiver on his shoulder while he located the specs for the space they were converting to a popular toy franchise.

      “Okay, Dan, I’m looking at the floor plan now,” he said to his foreman. “And yeah, that half wall has to come down. You know the drill. All the stores in the franchise have to look alike for easy shopping.”

      “Can’t get even a little creative?”

      “We save our creativity for the beach houses.”

      “Fine by me, just thought I’d ask before we ripped it down.” He paused, his Carolina drawl growing slightly curious. “Things goin’ okay there? You don’t sound happy.”

      “I’m so happy, I’m damn-near delirious,” he growled sarcastically. “It shouldn’t take me more than two weeks to finish here, then I’ll be home. In the meantime, call if you run into any problems, and I’ll continue to phone you daily for updates. Is the other crew ready to start the Hart’s beach house?”

      “Day after tomorrow.”

      “Good. Tell them to take special care with this one. Mrs. Hart has a lot of rich, influential friends. We want her endorsement.”

      “They take special care on all the jobs,” Dan returned, chuckling. “They don’t want to end up in the unemployment line. Talk to you tomorrow.”

      Zach hung up the phone, his nerves still thrumming. He’d told Kristin he wouldn’t grovel and he meant it. So why couldn’t he just put her out of his mind and go to sleep?

      Grabbing some change from the top of the dresser, he went outside, then crossed the courtyard to the vending machines and bought another Pepsi. Angry voices came from a nearby unit, but he didn’t give a damn about their problems. He had enough of his own. He took a long drink and started back to his room.

      He’d been acting like an idiot since he hit town, and it was all because of her. First he’d let Chad needle him into some kind of pseudo-high school rivalry, then he’d lost his focus and kissed Kris. He took another long swallow.

      She was wrong, blaming him for all of it. If what she’d felt for him was love, she couldn’t have kept quiet about her mother’s illness. Not even for a minute. She would’ve needed to tell him—needed for him to hold her and tell her things would be all right. Instead…

      Instead, Gretchen found him behind Etta’s barn that night, working on his second six-pack and wondering why his father thought booze could ease a man’s pain. And that time when she offered a different kind of remedy, he didn’t say no.

      Crumpling the empty can, Zach went inside where the air conditioner was finally clearing away the shower mist, and tossed it into the wastebasket beside the bureau. It clattered against hard plastic.

      All right, he thought, going to the bed and repacking his briefcase. He’d been a bastard. That was old news. But Kris wasn’t completely faultless. She’d known how insecure he was about her feelings, especially with Hollister champing at the bit to take her away. She should’ve told him the whole truth.

      Stripping to his briefs, he flopped down on the bed, then grabbed the remote control from the nightstand and hit the on button. In a burst of color and canned laughter, the set sprang to life.

      Tender kisses in motel rooms were for him and some other woman now—some other temporary woman. He didn’t have time to worry about old relationships or start new ones. He had a company to run, an empire to build. At thirty-three, he was finally earning respect and position, things that had been denied him from birth, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. His business was his chief priority. He didn’t need Kristin Chase in his life anymore.

      Two days later, Zach grabbed a towel, swiped the sawdust and sweat from his arms and chest, then sank to the top step of Etta’s front porch and snatched up his cell phone. He frowned as indecision gripped him again. Then he swore and dialed Kristin’s number from memory. Overhead, the Monday afternoon sun beat down through the tall maples, relentless in its effort to burn every square inch of his exposed skin.

      “Hi,” he said soberly when she picked up the phone at her shop.

      The long pause on her end had Zach wondering if she was trying to place his voice.

      “This is a surprise,” she said coolly.

      He imagined it was, since they hadn’t parted on the best of terms Saturday night. “I had some time, so I thought I’d call and see if your cheek was okay.”

      “It’s fine.”

      “Your shoulder?”

      “That’s fine, too.”

      Zach reined in his impatience. All of her responses were tolerant and polite, but obviously, she was still angry. He damned the illogical compulsion that made him keep trying with her. “Any news on the intruder?” he asked, committed to make the best of it.

      “Not yet, but I’m hoping Chad will have some information when he comes over later.”

      Considering his aversion to Hollister, the jealous pinch he experienced was hardly unexpected. “Going out for dinner?”

      “No, before the Arnetts went home yesterday, I bought a few of Anna Mae’s pieces and the contents of her attic. Half of it’s being delivered this afternoon. Chad’s helping me find room for it in my shop.”

      “Nice of him,” Zach drawled.

      “He is nice,” she replied. “And if you were a little more flexible in your thinking, you’d be able to see that.” She paused, and her tone softened. “I know he gave you a hard time in school. But he’s not the same person he was then.”

      “Leopards don’t change their spots.”

      “This one did.”

      Right. The kid who’d never shown a shred of compassion to anyone below him in the social pecking order, had turned over a new leaf. Zach wouldn’t put money on it.

      He’d been the son of the boozed-up school janitor—a job his dad was given only because Etta was on the school board and did some serious begging. Of course, her intervention hadn’t worked. Though she’d hoped her nephew would straighten out and support his teenage son when they returned to Wisdom, Hap Davis was out of a job in four months, and dead of cirrhosis a year

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