It Takes Two Page 3

  Shivering, he belted his robe around his waist and padded barefoot to the living room. Made of gleaming hardwood, Zack suspected it would be cool in the summer, but right now it was damned cold. If he intended to live here for any length of time he would have to buy a rug. Or several.

  The red button on his answering machine flashed urgently, so he hit the button and continued on to the kitchen with the intention of making himself a pot of coffee. Maybe the hot liquid would warm him up. He grimaced; it was for certain that Justine wasn't going to anytime soon.

  His younger brother's voice booming from the answering machine stopped him in his tracks.

  "Zack, this is Thomas. Haven't heard from you in a couple of weeks so I thought I would see what's up. Have you found her yet? Talked to her? I'm going crazy here, so keep me posted, okay? And don't you dare get married without inviting me and Miranda. She'd never speak—"

  Zack smiled when he realized Thomas had run out of time. His smile faded as he dialed Thomas's number. Miranda, Thomas's wife, picked up the phone. “Mandy, it's Zack. Is Thomas around?"

  "Zack!” She sounded pleased and excited to hear from him. “How are you? How's...everything?"

  His sister-in-law tried hard to be subtle, and usually failed. Like now. “I'm fine. Everything is fine.” Zack was relieved when Thomas snatched the phone from his wife. He wasn't ready to talk about his disastrous encounter with Justine.

  "Get my message?” Thomas demanded.

  "All fifteen minutes of it,” Zack joked. “How's the weather there?"

  With a hint of smugness, Thomas said, “Oh, about eighty degrees and sunny. How about there?"

  Zack frowned, glancing at the window to confirm that it was still snowing. “Cold. How's business?"

  "Great. Don't worry, we've got everything under control."

  Zack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, wondering if his brother would ever feel comfortable with his decision. “I'm not worried. The business belongs to you now."

  "You might change your—"

  "I won't change my mind,” Zack interrupted. If he couldn't play football, he would teach it. Thomas had always possessed a head for business and was the perfect choice to run the chain of hardware stores. In fact, he still hadn't figured out why his father had left him head of the business, and Thomas the house instead of the other way around. Thomas was married and had a house of his own, while Zack had still lived at home when his father became ill. Not that he'd stayed there much after his career got off the ground.

  Zack heard Miranda whisper something in the background, then Thomas covered the receiver for a moment. Despite himself, Zack's lips twitched. He suspected his sister-in-law was about to burst with curiosity.

  Too bad he would have to disappoint her.

  Thomas finally came back on the line, sounding apologetic. “Miranda is dying to know, Zack. I told her you probably would have said something if you had anything to say—"

  "Nothing happening yet.” It wasn't exactly a lie. And he wasn't the kiss-and-tell type. “Tell her I'll let her know before the wedding bells toll.” If Zack had to guess, he'd say Miranda had plenty of time to find a new dress for the occasion.

  "I will. So, how's it feel to coach a football team?"

  Once onto a safer subject, Zack relaxed and filled his brother in on the joys and headaches of coaching a team of rowdy, hormonally-charged teenagers. It was a temporary job that he thoroughly enjoyed, and once football season ended, he knew he would miss the team.

  Thirty minutes later, after reassuring Miranda he was staying warm and well-fed, Zack hung up, poured a mug of coffee, and went to stand by the window. He had arrived in Cannon Bay in late September; it had snowed three times in the month he'd been here, and it was snowing now. After living in the warm, sunny climate of Florida, he supposed it would take him a while to get used to the colder climate of Nebraska.

  He looked down at the pretty street below and thought about his unsatisfactory reunion with Justine.

  His gut tightened as he remembered the kiss. For a fleeting moment, she'd responded, and in that moment, Zack was reminded of the long, lonely months of self-imposed abstinence after meeting Justine and falling in love. Why hadn't she called? She must have realized he didn't have her number, or her address.

  The only clue he had was that she lived in a little town in Nebraska called Cannon Bay, and that wasn't even on the map.

  Directory assistance had revealed a Justine Diamond wasn't listed, and he didn't know the name of the small business she'd mentioned briefly during their four-day acquaintance. It was a vacation, and he supposed they both avoided the subject of work and careers for obvious reasons. Time for that later. Zack's fingers tightened around the warm mug.

  There hadn't been a later.

  He'd fallen head over heels in love with a woman for the first time in his life, yet he'd left the ship without getting a phone number. How careless and stupid could he be? A hastily scribbled explanation with his phone number, given to a passing steward, obviously hadn't been a good idea. He should have taken the time to search the ship and explain his leaving face to face. But he had panicked, spurred by the urgency of the message from his brother and reminded by the captain that the boat taking him to shore would not wait.

  As the weeks turned into months without a call, he began to suspect that Justine had played him for a fool, and that perhaps not giving him her phone number hadn't been an accident on her part, but a deliberate omission.

  When he finally accepted this fact, his pride suffered a hard blow. He'd thrown himself into running his father's business until his father recovered from his stroke. Working hadn't been a sacrifice since his own career had been compromised by a knee injury.

  Zack foolishly thought as the months rolled by she might fade from his memory, but it didn't happen. Instead, the ache in his heart grew until he thought he would go mad if he didn't hear it from her own lips that it had all been a joke, or a fling, or temporary insanity. Even then, he wasn't sure he would believe her. It had been too real.

  Tonight proved it. Oh, she'd almost convinced him that she felt nothing—until he kissed her. The fire between them hadn't waned, but had grown to an awesome degree. His instincts hadn't failed him; Justine was his soul mate. Zack sipped his coffee and watched the snow fall as he contemplated his next move.

  This time, Justine wouldn't find it so easy to dismiss him from her mind.

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  Chapter Three

  Coffee with Bea was never a dull affair, Justine mused, relieved to see that her hands had stopped shaking. She accepted a steaming mug of decaf as her youngest nephew, Colby, a tall, gangly twelve-year-old, dribbled a basketball around on the tiled kitchen floor.

  Fourteen-year-old Drew dodged his brother and took a seat at the kitchen table. Blond and blue-eyed, Drew was the only one of her nephews who resembled his mother. He was a quiet, serious teenager, preferring computers to sports, much to the scorn of his brothers. Their taunting didn't seem to bother him.

  "Hey, Aunt Justine! Watch this.” Colby dribbled the basketball around him in a circle without missing a beat, passing the ball from hand to hand until the ball was nothing but a blur.

  Justine was suitably impressed. “You're a natural, Colby."

  Drew made a face and propped his chin on his hands along the top of the chair. “Anybody can do that,” he scoffed before focusing his intent gaze on her. “Have you given anymore thought to getting a website, Aunt Justine?"

  "Well, I—” She paused as the basketball smacked into the middle of the table. With a sheepish grin, Colby retrieved the rolling ball just seconds before it rolled into her mug.

  "Get that thing out of my kitchen,” Bea ordered, taking a seat at the table. She added cream and sugar to her coffee, staring pointedly at her middle son.

  Justine smiled at Drew's wide-eyed innocent look.

  "What? Why are you staring at me? What did I do?” He s
macked his hands against his chest. “I'm just sitting here trying to have a conversation with my favorite aunt."

  Bea continued to glare at him until Drew let out a disgusted sigh and got up from his chair. “Okay, okay. I'll go. I don't think it's fair, though, that you're always hogging Aunt Justine to yourself."

  "Don't get smart, and it's your turn to clean the upstairs bathroom. If it isn't done by tomorrow, you can kiss your allowance goodbye."

  With a groan, Drew shuffled from the room.

  "Where's Jordan?” Justine asked when they were finally alone.

  Bea sighed. “He said he was going out with his friends."

  "You sound worried."

  "I am.” Bea bit her lip, stirring her coffee aimlessly. “Since Coach Wayne kicked him off the team, he's been so angry, and these days when a teenager gets angry, there's no telling how they'll express it."

  "Jordan's always been very responsible for his age,” Justine reminded her gently. “And any kid would be angry."

  Bea slapped her hand onto the table in a frustrated gesture, her eyes sparkling. “That man had no right to do that to Jordan! Wayne's just a substitute. You just wait until Coach Abernathy gets back—"

  "He's—he's a substitute?” Well, what had she expected? That Zachary Wayne had moved permanently to Cannon Bay just to be near her? Justine suppressed a bitter laugh. His presence in town was probably just a wild coincidence.

  "Yes, a substitute. He shouldn't be making such a drastic decision, in my opinion. Coach Abernathy would have understood."

  "What happened to Coach Abernathy?"

  "His mother is very ill, dying, I think. He took a sabbatical and rumor has it he won't be back until after the new year."

  "Has Jordan's teacher tried to explain to the...new coach about the mix up with the test?” No matter what had happened between them, Justine couldn't imagine Zachary reacting so harshly toward a child. But then, his defection from the ship had proved that she hadn't truly known him.

  Bea snorted. “Everyone has him on a pedestal because he used to play pro football. And Mrs. Shands, well...she's rather timid. I can't imagine her approaching him. Damned quavering ninny,” Bea added under her breath. “She's scared of her own shadow."

  "Then why don't you explain it to him?"

  "Because Jordan won't let me.” Bea shot her a wry look. “He's afraid I'll lose my temper and make things worse."

  Knowing Bea's fierce, protective nature, Justine silently agreed with Jordan. “Maybe Clay can give him a call,” she began, but Bea was shaking her head before she finished.

  "Nope. Jordan's adamant about both of us staying out of it.” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed in sly speculation.

  Justine recognized that look and groaned inwardly. She held up her hand, palm out. “No, no way.” Bea couldn't begin to know what she was asking. “I can't talk to the man. He's—he's—"

  "Arrogant, I know.” Bea began to plead. “But you're better at keeping your temper, Justine! I've seen you in action with a customer. You can be as cool as a cucumber even when other people are shouting at you."

  Knowing there was no way out, Justine took a deep breath and spilled the beans. “I can't be cool with Zachary Wayne, Bea. I know him."

  "Of course you know him. Jordan's probably mentioned his name before. When he played for the Miami Gators, Jordan idolized him.” Bea clucked her tongue, oblivious to Justine's meaning. “Poor baby got a rude awakening when he met Zachary Wayne in person."

  Justine thought about taking the coward's way out and letting it pass, but knew that she couldn't. Bea might hear it from someone else and then she'd be unnecessarily hurt. “I don't just know of him, I know him...personally."

  Bea's jaw dropped. “You—you know him?” she screeched, making Justine wince. “He's from Florida! How could you possibly know him?"

  "I met him on the cruise.” There. It was out. Surprisingly, she felt better. Bea was her best friend as well as her sister-in-law, and there had been several times since the cruise she had wanted to confide in her. By keeping it to herself, however, she'd believed it would help her forget.

  Unfortunately, she had been wrong.

  Shocked into silence, Bea rose and poured more coffee into their mugs while Justine braced herself for a long walk down memory lane. She wasn't looking forward to it, especially after that sizzling kiss she and Zack had shared earlier.

  "Is he the reason why you don't want to go on another cruise?” Bea asked, her quiet voice filled with sympathy.

  "Yes.” Justine blinked her eyes to clear her vision of unwanted tears. He wasn't worth crying over. Hadn't she learned that the hard way? And just because she had seen him again didn't mean that she was going to turn stupid. In fact, she was more determined than ever to forget about him. Yes, he was drop-dead gorgeous; yes, he was an excellent lover; and yes, he was a great liar. The best.

  "What happened?"

  The question she dreaded. Justine swallowed a lump that had no business being there and forced herself to speak dispassionately. “I met him the first day, and for the next four days we were inseparable."

  "You fell in love?"

  Justine nodded. “At least, I did.” Her lips curved in a self-derisive smile. “You'd think that after Barry I would have been more cautious of men spouting bull crap, huh?"

  "Shoot, even I was fooled by Barry. I was just as shocked as you were to find out he was nothing but a two-timing jerk. Is he still pestering you to get back with him?"

  Justine nodded absently. She hadn't really loved Barry; she realized it the moment she saw Zachary standing alone at the railing, his pensive gaze staring out across the ocean. Finding Barry with another woman had hurt her pride; finding Zack missing from the ship without a word of explanation had crushed her heart.

  "I should have known better, Bea."

  "You went on that cruise to get over Barry,” Bea reminded her gently. “And you know what they say: The best way to get over being burned is to dance right back into the fire."

  "Well,” Justine drawled with a little laugh, “I certainly did that.” In a big way.

  Bea began to turn her wedding ring around and around, staring at it thoughtfully. “So, you were inseparable for four days and then he just dumped you? Did he say why?"

  "No, he didn't. He just left the ship."

  "Without even saying goodbye?” Bea sounded surprised. “That was rather cowardly of him."

  Justine had thought the same thing—when the pain eased enough to allow her brain to function again.

  "Now he's in town,” Bea mused as if to herself. “Do you think he wants you back? I mean, the odds of him coming to Cannon Bay, of all places..."

  "It's been over a year since the cruise, Bea. Even if his being here isn't a coincidence—which I think it is—I'm not about to pick up where he left off.” Not in a million years. Not in ten million. In fact, the notion was almost laughable.

  "He really did hurt you, didn't he?"

  For pride's sake, Justine started to deny it, but realized she didn't have to lie to Bea. “Yes, he did, but he won't get a second shot at it,” she promised. “He'll have to find some other gullible fool willing to play his games."

  "Justine...it just occurred to me that he probably knew Jordan was your nephew. Same last names."

  Justine sat up straight, adrenaline jolting her heart into overdrive. When she had learned that he played pro football, she had proudly told him about her nephew's aspirations.

  So he knew about Jordan.

  The bastard wouldn't stoop so low, would he? She voiced the ugly thought out loud. “You think he might have thrown Jordan off the team because of me?"

  Bea shrugged, frowning. “You know him better than I do. Do you think he would pull a stunt like that if he thought it would lure you to him?"

  The possibility made Justine so furious it was a full moment before she could speak. When she did, her voice vibrated with anger. “There's one way to find out, isn't there?"

 
"You're going to talk to him?"

  "Damned right I am,” Justine snarled. “Zachary Wayne's in for a rude awakening if he thinks I'm the same stupid fool he met on the ship."

  "I wouldn't just barge in and start accusing him,” Bea cautioned. “It might make things worse for Jordan."

  She was right, Justine realized. Her gaze narrowed. Maybe blasting him wasn't the smartest way to go. Maybe it would be safer to beat him at his own game. But can you? a taunting voice asked. Can you play his game without crumbling at his feet the moment he touches you?

  She could! She must. For Jordan's sake, and her own.

  To her sister-in-law, she said, “I'll be as sweet as sugar, I promise. In fact, I think I'll call him right now and tell him I changed my mind about that coffee he offered me earlier."

  No time like the present, Justine decided. Besides, if she did it now, she wouldn't have time to chicken out later.

  With a gasp, Mini tucked the tiny crystal ball inside her wing and hopped over to where Reuben lay snoring on a bed of pillows. She leaned over him, then drew back with a grimace of disgust when she caught a whiff of his wine-laden breath.

  "Reuben, wake up! I've been watching Justine in the crystal ball and you'll never believe what she thinks Zack has done!"

  Reuben grunted, then continued snoring.

  Mini shook him. “She thinks he kicked Jordan from the team just to get her attention!"

  "Hmm?” Reuben mumbled sleepily. He opened one bleary eye, then quickly closed it again. He moaned. “What time is it?"

  Mini heaved an impatient sigh. “It's not even seven o'clock. You drank too much wine, remember? How do you feel?"

  "Terrible, but I'd feel better if you'd let me sleep."

  "We don't have time for you to sleep.” She began to pace in front of him, her sharp claws shredding the newspaper. “What are we going to do? What will Zack think when Justine accuses him of something so unethical? We had a chance when Justine was the only one angry, but now—” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “This could be bad, Reuben."

  Reuben wasn't listening; he snored softly on the pillows.