He finished wiping the countertops and stove. The kitchen was back in order. If only the same were true for his life. He did not know what was going on with him and Zoe, but it was going to stop. He hated fighting with her.

He looked at the clock above the stove. It was only nine. Making a decision, he grabbed his jacket and car keys. He stopped briefly in the family room and selected a video. The entire evening did not have to be a waste.

A trip to the all-night donut shop in town and forty minutes later, he stood on the Pattersons’ front porch steps. He rang the doorbell. The wind whipped against his hair and batted against his wool-lined denim jacket. She did not answer. Her truck was in the drive. He rang the bell again. No lights were visible from the front of the house. Maybe she was asleep.

He was about to turn around and leave, disappointment an almost palpable taste in his mouth, when the door opened. Zoe stared at him through the screen, making no attempt to unlatch the door.

He smiled at her. Lifting the orange and white bag in his hand, he said, “I’m here for a truce.”

She pushed open the screen door and stepped back. He looked down at her and felt like swearing. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and telltale moisture still clung to her cheeks.

She had been crying and it was his fault. He dropped the pastry bag on the hall table. “Oh, Zoe.” He gripped her arms and pulled her against his chest, sliding his hands to her back. She remained stiff against him, but he was grateful that she did not attempt to pull away. “I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”

Sobs erupted against his chest. “It’s my fault. What you do with your women is none of my business.”

Hearing that statement did not make him feel better. Pulling away from Zoe, he forced her to meet his eyes. “I was not going to have dessert with Carlene.”

If anything, her tears fell faster. “It doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business. I’m just your friend. You don’t owe me any explanations.” The words came stuttering out between hiccupping sobs.

Just a friend? When had Zoe been relegated to just a friend in his life? She was the one person he trusted above all others. Not able to stand the sight of her tears, he pulled her back against him. “Querida, please stop crying.”

“I’m trying.”

She took several deep breaths. He rubbed her back, attempting to comfort her. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t trust anyone like I trust you.”

“That makes it worse,” she wailed. She broke away from him and backed up until she met the wall. Narrow, the hallway only afforded a few feet of distance between them. “You trusted me and I ruined your date.”

Feeling like he did not know the script, he demanded, “What are you talking about?”

“I left Bud’s cage door open.”

What? “Why?”

“Because I was jealous of Carlene.”

“I can’t believe this.”

She looked miserable. “I know. It was a despicable thing to do, and now Bud’s lost. He could be anywhere, freezing his little paws off.”

More likely in Grant’s walls somewhere, eating his wiring. “We’ll find Bud. That’s not what I was talking about. I can’t believe you were jealous of Carlene. She’s just a date. You are my best friend.”

Zoe’s eyes locked on to his. “Am I?”

Furious that she could doubt their long-standing bond, he stalked over to her. He stopped when his boots met her bare toes. Moving his face inches from hers, he spoke, shooting his words out like bullets. “You might drive me right up a wall with your melodrama. You might piss me off royally when you refuse to let me drive you to town. None of that changes the fact that you are one of the most important people in my life.”

“Thank you.” She gave a half-smile and wiped at the tears on her cheeks with her hands. “I think.”

“For the record, I am not interested in playing dessert games with Carlene.”

Zoe’s smile blossomed to a grin. She looked down at the bag on the table. “Donuts?”

He returned her smile. “Yeah. Your favorite—toasted coconut.” He pulled a video case from his coat pocket and waved it in the air. “Movie.”

“The Quiet Man?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“You really aren’t mad at me about Bud?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh.”

“Okay.” Zoe turned around and headed toward the back of the house.

Grant grabbed the donuts and followed her. When she passed the entrance to the living room, he stopped. “Where are you going?”

“To the bedroom. I moved the VCR in there earlier.”




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