The next day, Zoe walked through the village enjoying the late afternoon breeze. It was just gone four pm and the sun’s heat had waned with the day. The diner was in the capable hands of her employees, so she’d decided to take an hour to stretch her legs and enjoy a coffee.
The sweet scents of flowers in pots, window boxes and hanging baskets teased her nostrils and she experienced that glimmer of hope that summer always roused in her. Everything was in bloom and there were weeks of sunshine and busy days ahead, which meant less time alone at home. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her own company, because to a certain extent she did, but winter evenings in front of the fire weren’t as much fun without someone to snuggle with, and this year she wouldn’t even have Raven to hug.
She took a deep breath. She had to be more positive. Raven had been happy in the short time she’d been with her and, when she was ready, Zoe would open her home to another dog. But the time had to be right. As for opening her heart to anything else, well… she doubted that was going to happen.
She found herself outside the Conwenna Cafe, and peered through the glass. Inside, Nate was behind the counter, his cheeks flushed with the heat and his blond hair so messy it looked as if he’d just fallen out of bed. Or from the sky… She grimaced. Where on earth had that cheesy thought come from? Zoe was not one to lapse into soppy daydreams about men, no matter how blue their eyes or broad their shoulders. It simply wasn’t her style. Not that she’d never allowed herself to indulge in a fantasy or two, but she didn’t any more. Not since what had happened. She self-consciously touched her fringe and fluffed it up a bit, then ran her hands through the rest of her bob. Of course, it didn’t matter what she looked like because Nate certainly wouldn’t look at her in that way. She was as far removed from the type of woman Nate fancied as she was from being the next prime minister. Which was fine, good even, because Nate was never going to be Zoe’s type…
Nate looked up and caught her staring. Heat filled her cheeks and she turned quickly, her instincts telling her to run away, but she’d forgotten about the hanging basket under the cafe sign and she smacked her head on it. As she wobbled, she reached out and her hands clawed at the air until they found something solid, but that gave way under her touch and she found herself face down on the pavement.
‘Zoe!’ Nate was at her side. ‘Bloody hell, are you all right? Are you hurt?’
He gently helped her up and scanned her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes then back again, until he met her eyes. She was conscious of his roaming gaze and felt it like the heat of a torch.
‘I’m fine.’ She tried to laugh but it came out as a croak, and she wished the ground would swallow her whole. ‘You should put that hanging basket up higher, though. It’s a hazard there.’
‘My uncle was in the process of watering the flowers but went inside to refill the watering can. See, it does go up higher.’ He pointed at a hook higher up the cafe wall. ‘He just hung it on there for a moment. God, Zoe, you could have been really hurt.’
Zoe rubbed her eyes then her face. Everything seemed fine.
‘And now you need a wash.’
‘What?’
Nate took her hands in his and heat shot through her at the tenderness of his touch.
‘See.’
Zoe met his eyes and felt as if she could tumble into their azure depths.
‘Mmmm?’
‘Your hands.’
‘Oh!’
She looked down and found that her hands were caked in mud from the window box she’d grabbed at as she went down – and had unfortunately emptied over the ground.
‘I’m so sorry. I’m not usually this accident prone.’
‘No?’
He reached out and ran his finger over the scar on her forehead. She winced then pushed his hand away and tried to brush her fringe back into place with her fingers.
‘How’d you get that?’
‘I fell.’
‘So, you are accident prone, then?’
Zoe shrugged. ‘Not all the time. Anyway, that’s from a long time ago.’
‘Perhaps you’ll feel like telling me about it some time.’
‘Perhaps,’ she replied, although she doubted it.
‘Come inside and let me get you something so you can clean yourself up, then make you a cuppa. You look like you need it.’
‘I think I’d better try to tidy up that window box first. The poor flowers.’ Zoe stared in dismay at the scattered pansies and geraniums that had been uprooted by her fall.
‘It’s okay, I’ll help my uncle to sort it out in a moment. I want to make sure you’re okay first.’
Zoe allowed him to guide her into the cafe, then she went through to the customer toilets. In the artificial light of the small space, she washed her hands thoroughly with liquid soap that smelt of violets, then faced herself in the mirror. She had streaks of mud up her cheeks and crumbs of dirt in her hair. She rubbed at the mud with her wet hands then grabbed a paper towel and dried them, before getting her brush from her small handbag and using it to clear the compost debris from her hair. What must Nate think of her? Let alone the customers in the cafe who’d watched the whole debacle, then eyed her from behind their mugs as she’d entered the cafe. She’d been so distracted by gazing at Nate, then horrified when he caught her staring, that she’d forgotten to look where she was going and had ended up walking into the hanging basket then face planted into the contents of the window box. Luckily, little more than her pride was hurt but then, in comparison to what she’d been through in the past, what was a little hurt pride?
Zoe dried her hands then checked her fringe one last time. She gave it a squirt of the mini hairspray she kept in her bag. Nate had actually touched her scar – the ugly, silver-red mark that dominated one side of her forehead – as if it was something to admire. And it wasn’t. Zoe hated it because of all it represented about how life had been, and because of all it reminded her of: her failure to keep her friend and the man she loved close.
Pain pierced her heart like a dagger and she sucked in a breath.
Zoe knew the fault lay with them for what they’d done but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t believe that she was blameless in it all. If she’d been prettier, thinner, funnier, more alluring. If she’d been a better surfer, earned more money, been more exciting in bed… so many things she could have done and been for him – but would it really have made a difference? She had to admit that she didn’t know, and she suspected that she never would. People would do what they wanted to do and sometimes nothing could stop them or change their minds, not even love and friendship. Sometimes they counted for nothing at all.
Caring about people was dangerous.
Nate carried a mug of tea over to the table in the corner, sitting down to wait for Zoe. She’d given him a fright when she’d bumped into the hanging basket then fallen over. He’d been busy making a ham and cheese ciabatta when he’d sensed that someone was watching him. Looking up, he’d spotted Zoe outside and been about to wave when she’d turned on her heel and gone face first into the flowers. It had been like slow motion as she’d bounced off the hanging basket then grappled for something to stop herself falling and managed to drag the window box down with her. The window boxes were secured in wooden frames that his uncle had constructed but, somehow, the very slender Zoe had managed to pull the one box out of its frame.
Right now, Kevin was outside repairing the damage. He’d agreed with Nate that he needed to ensure that he never left the hanging baskets unattended again when they were lowered for watering, and said he’d buy a bigger watering can or a sturdy ladder so he wouldn’t need to bring the baskets to head height.
Zoe could have been seriously injured.
Nate swallowed. That thought was awful. The idea of anyone being injured was terrible but thinking of Zoe being hurt made his gut churn. He had an urge to protect her and that was not something Nate was accustomed to feeling. The women he dated were strong and independent, and so was Zoe as far as he knew, but there was also something about her that was… vulnerable. Soft. Gentle.
He shook himself. Her big brown eyes were playing havoc with his sensibilities and that was all it was. She reminded him of a taller Natalie Portman with her slim frame and fathomless eyes, and although he’d always made a point of dating blondes, he had nursed a secret crush on the beautiful actress for a while. In fact, it was probably why he was drawn to Zoe. She resembled his crush and nothing more, and it was highly likely that he was imagining things, possibly projecting his ideal onto her. And yet…
‘Nate?’
He looked up to find Zoe standing next to him. He got to his feet.
‘How are you?’
She’d washed her face and brushed her hair and, apart from a fleck of mud on the shoulder of her cream blouse, there was no evidence that she’d been lying in compost at all.
‘I’m okay, thanks. My pride is bruised, or should I say muddied, but that’s all.’
She was making a joke of it? He smiled in response.
‘Here, have a seat.’
She sat down and he gestured at the tea. ‘I don’t know if you take sugar but I put some in it anyway.’
‘For the shock?’
‘Yeah…’
‘Thank you.’ She peered over his shoulder. ‘Oh no… is your uncle out there tidying up my mess?’
‘He’s almost done. I would’ve helped but I wanted to check you were all right.’
‘I should help him.’ She went to get up but he put out a hand.
‘You’re going nowhere until you’ve drunk your tea and I’m certain that you are fit enough to leave.’
Her dark eyebrows rose slightly but she picked up the mug and drank.
Nate wanted to ask about her scar again but he didn’t want to scare her away, so instead he went for what he thought would be a safer topic.
‘I noticed that you have tattoos.’
She lowered the mug and nodded.
‘One on your wrist and one on the back of your neck.’
‘All down to my foolish and misspent youth.’ She gave a wry smile.
‘I like them. The one on your wrist is very cool.’
Zoe turned her hand over and they both gazed at the wave on her wrist.
‘You like the sea?’ After her reaction – when he’d gone to the diner – to his suggestion that she could surf during the greyhound event, Nate thought he knew the answer to this one, but then who had a tattoo of a wave if they didn’t like the water?
‘I did.’
‘Not any more?’
She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t confident about swimming as a child but when I got older, I quite liked being out in the sea. Well… I got used to it, at least.’
‘Swimming?’
‘Surfing.’
‘You surfed?’
‘Don’t look so surprised. We don’t all need to be blonde and tanned.’
‘That’s such a stereotype, and it wasn’t what I meant at all.’
She pressed her lips together and Nate watched as they blanched.
‘Sorry, Zoe. Sometimes, when I’m around you, I don’t quite say what I mean. I’m not sure why… What I meant was that I’m surprised that you surfed. Only because I didn’t know anything about it, not because of what you look like or because I think there’s a type.’
‘You have a type though, right?’ As the blood rushed back into her lips, it filled her cheeks too. ‘Sorry. Now it’s me being hasty with my words.’
‘Are you trying to say that you only ever see me with a certain kind of woman, Zoe?’
‘Well… yes. I guess so. When was the last time you dated a redhead or a brunette? Not that it’s any of my business who you date or why. You obviously only fancy women with blonde hair.’
‘That’s not true, actually.’
Zoe shrugged. ‘As I said, none of my business. Anyway, thanks for the tea. I’d better be getting back to work.’
‘Don’t go yet. I wanted to talk to you and I feel like this has gone all wrong. Like we’ve both been a bit… prickly… for want of a better word, and I don’t know why.’
‘Prickly?’ Her eyes widened.
‘Well, yes. I’m not like this, Zoe. I’m usually calm and able to hold a decent conversation with people… women… but with you, I’m like an awkward teenager again.’
‘You were once awkward?’
He nodded.
‘I can’t imagine that.’
‘I have photos to prove it.’
Her lips turned upwards and some of his tension slipped away. He didn’t know why it mattered but he wanted to make her smile, to see laughter dance in those soft brown eyes.
‘What about the other tattoo?’
‘This one?’ Zoe touched the back of her neck.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s an eternity symbol.’
‘Because?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
‘I do.’
‘Okay then, but it makes me sound a bit… harsh, I guess. I had it done to remind me not to trust a man ever again.’
‘Oh.’ Now things became a little clearer. Zoe had been hurt in the past. ‘I see.’
‘You asked.’ She sighed. ‘Sorry. I just had a bad experience and I wanted something to remind me not to put myself at risk again.’
‘But you can’t see it. Doesn’t it need to be where you can see it to remind you?’
‘I know it’s there. Besides, I had it put on the back of my neck to symbolize how it’s behind me now. The whole foolish and naive believing in love and happy-ever-after nonsense.’
Nate nodded. What had she been through to make her so against the idea of falling in love?
‘I have some tattoos too.’
‘What’ve you got?’
‘This one here.’ He lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt slightly to reveal a skull on the underside of his left arm. Either side of the skull were surfboards, and behind those towering waves. ‘It’s about—’
‘Respecting the power of the sea.’
‘That’s right.’
‘One false move and it can crush you.’
‘Is that what happened to you?’
‘I thought we were looking at your tattoos.’
‘Of course. Well, there’s one here.’ He lifted the hem of his T-shirt to reveal the one on his right side that covered his ribs and disappeared beneath his jeans and over his hip.
‘It’s a tree.’
‘Yggdrasil. The tree from Norse mythology.’
‘It must have taken hours.’
‘Three sittings.’
‘How…’
‘How what?’
‘How far down does it go?’ she asked him, and he watched as her cheeks darkened.
‘You want to see?’
She glanced around her. ‘Uh…’
‘Not here… but I could show you sometime.’
Was he flirting with her now? He believed he was and he was enjoying himself.
‘Ha!’ She shook her head. ‘If I did want to see it, it would be purely because I like tattoos.’
‘Of course. Do you have more?’
She pursed her lips. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Well, one day I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’
‘You really have the cheek of the devil, don’t you?’
He laughed and she joined him.
‘In answer to your question, Zoe, it runs down over my hip. The roots tail off at the top of my upper thigh.’
‘Gorgeous.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I meant the tattoo.’
‘I know you did.’
‘I should be going.’
Nate pulled his mobile from his pocket and checked the time. He didn’t want her to go now that the ice between them seemed to have thawed. He wanted to keep talking, to find out more about her and to show her the rest of his tattoos, as well as to see hers. If she actually had more, that was, and wasn’t trying to wind him up. But boy, was he curious now…
‘Zoe, would you like to grab a drink sometime?’
‘A drink?’
‘Yes. You know, at the pub or the wine bar.’
‘Oh… uh…’
‘Just as friends. No expectations, no pressure, no worrying. I’d like to talk to you more.’
‘I guess I could join you for a drink.’
‘Great. Shall we meet at eight at the wine bar on Saturday?’
‘Make it nine, as I keep the diner open a bit later in the summer.’
‘Nine it is, then.’
Zoe stood up and slid her bag over her shoulder.
‘Now, look out for low-flying plant pots, Zoe.’
‘Ha ha!’ She shook her head, but just before she went through the door and into the summer afternoon, she flashed him a warm smile, and something inside him fluttered, as if she’d fanned the flames of the spark she’d already lit inside him.