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But that was Zeke. All straight lines and precise measurements. His massive toolbox lay open at the top of the stairs. Inside, each red plastic section held a specific size of nail, screw, nut or bolt. Everything properly labeled and carefully maintained, and nothing like her junk drawer, which held a random mishmash of items that may as well have escaped from the island of lost tools.
“You could have waited for me, you know. I would have liked to see how you figured out how to cut the stringers...just in case.”
“It’s not that hard.”
She held up a hand as Zeke went on about maximum riser height and tread depth, cutting him off by saying, “I get it. You’re brilliant.”
And he was. Zeke was the smartest person she knew, and not just book smart. If there was anything he wanted to learn—and Zeke tended to want to learn everything—he could pick up a how-to book or watch a few online videos and know all there was to know about cutting stringers, building a fence or replacing a faucet.
“You don’t have to worry.” He stomped a booted foot against the lowest tread. “Trust me, these suckers are solid. They aren’t going anywhere.”
“Well, no. Not unless I tear them out again.”
“Tear them out? Why would you do that?”
“Because they’re too perfect!” The old steps, though lacking in structural integrity, had made up for their rough, splintered surfaces with character. They’d had knots and dents and a weathered finish that matched up with the rest of her house. “I’m going to have to replace the deck, the door, the back half of the house to try to get everything to look half as good as your steps.”
Zeke only grinned. “Sounds like I have my work cut out for me the next few weekends.”
“No, Zeke. You don’t. It’s my house. My responsibility.”
For a brief second, a shadow seemed to cross over his handsome features before he offered her a confident smile. “Of course it is, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help out around here, does it? How else am I going to pay you back for all the delicious meals you make me?”
Mollie hardly considered herself any kind of gourmet chef, but she did like to eat. She also liked to cook, especially if it meant cooking for Zeke.
Though if there was any truth to the old adage the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Zeke would have fallen for her back when she was in the eighth grade and he ate all the cookies she’d made for a bake sale.
“You can’t tell me you don’t have some mouth-watering meal already started.”
“I may have thrown the ingredients for chili into the slow cooker before I left this morning.”
His gaze narrowed. “What kind of chili?”
Mollie rolled her eyes. “Tofu,” she said. “What do you think?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I think you’d better be lying.”
“It’s ground sirloin.” Though she did occasionally like to switch things up with a white chicken chili or ground turkey, she knew better than to lean too far in the healthy food direction.
Zeke had complained more than once that the tall, model-thin women he dated in Raleigh loved dressing up and going out to dinner and yet refused to order anything more than a small salad and ridiculously priced bottled water. He swore he broke up with his last girlfriend after she invited him over for pizza and then served vegetable toppings and soy cheese on a cauliflower crust.
He didn’t have to worry about that with Mollie on any score. She hated cauliflower and loved thick-crust pepperoni pizza covered in mozzarella. She was not tall, she was not thin and no one would mistake her for a model.
All of which made her perfect for Zeke. The perfect buddy, that was.
Mollie swallowed a sigh as she stomped up the expertly crafted steps and led the way into the kitchen. She was greeted by the smell of slow-cooking beef, onions and garlic, and by the exuberant head to tail wagging of her black-and-tan coonhound.
“Hey, baby girl! I missed you, too.” Mollie reached down to run her hands over the dog’s floppy ears. After the initial greeting, Arti immediately set about sniffing every inch of her denim jeans. By the time the dog was finished, Mollie was certain the hound had figured out every person she’d talked to and every dog she’d stopped to pet in the hours since she’d been gone from the house.
Fortunately, Arti was not the jealous type. Mollie only wished she could say the same when Zeke bent down to say hello and her dog had the fantasy-inspiring pleasure of throwing herself against that broad chest, nuzzling his neck and even stealing a quick kiss.
“Crazy dog!”
Of course, Zeke’s laughter as he pushed Arti away and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand was very much the response Mollie anticipated if she ever acted on that fantasy.
Crazy Mollie...
Zeke had been over for dinner at her house often enough that she didn’t need to tell him where to find the soup bowls, glasses or spoons. They moved around each other in the small space with Mollie ducking beneath his arm as he reached into an upper cabinet, sidestepping his broad form as she pulled the toppings from the refrigerator and swatting his hand when he tried to sample a bite of chili straight off the wooden spoon.
It was all so easy and natural, and Mollie had years of experience ignoring the delicious shiver that raced through her body at the incidental touches—the brush of her arm against his chest, the warmth of his hand at her shoulder as he leaned close to inhale the spicy aroma of the simmering chili.
“That smells amazing,” he complimented her, and Mollie couldn’t help thinking the same thing—about Zeke.
She wanted nothing more than to turn in the circle of his arms and breathe him in. To soak in the warm and spicy scent of his aftershave combined with summer sunshine and cedar. To have him look at her the way, well, the way he was currently looking at her chili. Like he wanted to eat her up with a spoon.
“Just one bite?” he cajoled. “Please...”
His warm breath teased her ear, and a shiver ran down her spine. With her legs as weak as if she’d just completed a five-mile run through the mountains with Arti, it was all Mollie could do not to melt into a puddle at his feet.
Instead, she gave him a playful jab in the ribs with her elbow. “Finish setting the table and pour our drinks, would you? I might work with animals, but we’re going to sit down and eat like civilized people.”
Her parents had never been pet friendly, and when she had announced she wanted to train dogs as a profession, they’d reacted as though she’d announced she planned to don animal skins, eat raw meat and live in the wild. Maybe running around with a bunch of dogs and having a layer of dog hair—and occasionally doggie drool—covering her clothes was not the most glamorous of careers. But she was good at training dogs.
Zeke’s low chuckle, though, only served as another challenge to just how uncivilized Mollie was feeling at the moment. Fortunately, he backed away before she could make a total fool out of herself.
Shoring up her trembling legs, she carried the pot of chili over to the oak table and set it amid the bowls of sour cream, green onions, shredded cheese and sliced jalapeños.
After digging into the chili like he hadn’t had a good meal in ages, Zeke asked, “How are the repairs going at the shelter?”
“Already underway, thanks to the money made at the fund-raiser last month.” Mollie had operated a booth at the event, promoting her own business as well as bringing attention to the shelter and its needs. Zeke had volunteered, as well, helping her set up and drawing a fair share of female attention to the booth.
“And the Whitaker sisters told me that Rebekah Taylor, the new shelter director, has applied for a grant, not only for repairs but also for expanding the shelter.”
“That must be a challenge, to start a new job while the shelter is undergoing construction repairs.”
Mollie nodded. “I would think so, but if the grant comes through, the tornado might just end up a blessing in disguise.”
She looked up in time to find Zeke watching her with a hint of an amused smile on his handsome face. “What?” she asked defensively, glancing down at her T-shirt to make sure she hadn’t somehow ended up with half her dinner dribbled down the front. No chili stains, but Mollie winced a little at the muddy paw prints she’d failed to notice earlier.
Great, just great.
“Only you would find a silver lining in a tornado.”
Heat bloomed in Mollie’s cheeks. Growing up, her parents had often warned her about the folly of viewing the world through rose-colored glasses. “You think I’m naive.”
Zeke shook his head. “I think you’re amazing. Chief and Charlie are the luckiest dogs in the world to have you in their corner.”
The words took Mollie’s breath away. “Zeke...that’s—” She had to clear the emotional lump in her throat before finishing in a rush. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“It’s true.” Reaching out, he grasped her hand in his as he gazed into her eyes.
And even though they had touched thousands of times in the years they had known each other—everything from teasing shoves and friendly hugs to clinging to each other beside her brother’s grave—this felt different.
Suddenly everything felt different.
She could feel the warmth from Zeke’s hand radiating up her arm and leaving a delicious trail of goose bumps in its wake. She could hear every beat of her heart, every bated breath she took, magnified in her head. Zeke’s hazel eyes had never seemed so rich, so warm.
“It hit me out in the backyard earlier...”
“It did?” The words escaped in a Minnie Mouse–like squeak, but Mollie didn’t care.
Zeke nodded. “You’re such an amazing woman, Mollie. It makes no sense to me that some lucky guy hasn’t come along to sweep you off your feet.”
Oh... Oh! It was finally happening. After so many years of dreaming, so many years silently hoping. “Well—” Mollie swallowed “—you’ve probably guessed by now that I’ve been waiting—”
“And that’s just the thing. You shouldn’t have to wait. Not anymore.”
“No,” she agreed. “Not anymore. I’m ready, Zeke, I am.”
Mollie had fallen for him when she was only a kid, on the day they’d rescued Shadow together. And, yes, back then, she had been too young for him. Even as an awkward, lovestruck teenager, she’d been too young. But that was then. Now, a four-year age difference meant nothing. Now, she was a woman and for Zeke to finally see her that way—
“I know. That’s why I want to fix you up with one of my friends.”
Chapter Three (#ua5ce53fa-ed50-5295-8ce1-b0bf0edfff69)
“Wait, what?” Mollie yanked her hand away and jerked back so quickly, she nearly upended her chair. Barely catching herself before she could tumble over backward, she stared across the table. “You wanna what?”
“I was thinking that I could set you up on a date. You know, with one of the guys from the basketball league. Several of them are single and—look, Mollie, what I’m trying to say is that you’re a great girl, a great catch.”
Right. Which is why he’d just tossed her overboard.
Pushing away from the table, she grabbed her bowl of half-eaten chili and stalked over to the kitchen counter. Her face burning in humiliation, Mollie couldn’t bear to look at Zeke. Leave it to her to read his words so completely wrong!
When it came to dogs, she could interpret every tail wag, every raised ruff, every ear flick. But with people?
She didn’t know what was worse. That she’d so stupidly fooled herself into thinking he was interested or that he thought she was so desperate that he had to set her up on some kind of pity date.
Barely restraining the urge to throw the dishes into the sink—or right at Zeke—Mollie set the bowl on the counter and marched back to the table to face him. “This isn’t like your coming over here and working on my house without my permission. I don’t need you to fix my love life!”
But Zeke didn’t give up easily. Especially not when he was sure that big brain of his was right. “Mollie, this isn’t about fixing anything. It’s about letting me help you.”
She let out a low growl that would have done King, her most aggressive dog to date, proud. Instead of backing off, though, Zeke circled the table, clearly not the least bit intimidated. But then again, King had been a ten-pound Chihuahua.
Reaching out, Zeke caught her shoulders in his wide hands. As mad as she was, that moment earlier—when she’d so foolishly let herself hope, let herself believe—had unleashed something inside her. All the barriers she’d built up over the years were suddenly gone.
She wasn’t a kid, and she wasn’t his little sister. She was a grown woman, and she wanted Zeke to hold her, to kiss her, to love her as only a man could love a woman.
“Zeke—”
But even though everything had changed for Mollie, nothing had for Zeke.
“I know you always tell me you like dogs better than people,” he was saying with a smile, “but it will do you good to go out and meet someone new. And, hey, if it would make things easier, we could always go on a double date.”
“You’re seeing someone?” Mollie’s chest cramped at the thought as she stepped away from his embrace.
Recently, Zeke had mostly dated women he met in Raleigh. Mollie always told herself she was glad. She didn’t want to see firsthand how smart, how sophisticated, how sexy those women were in comparison to her. And she feared the day when Zeke might actually find a woman he saw as The One. A smart, sexy, sophisticated woman who knew better than to serve him vegan pizza.
Two years ago, that worst-case scenario nightmare had seemed all too close to coming true when he’d gotten engaged to Lilah Fairchild. There was not a woman on the planet Mollie wanted to see Zeke pledge his eternal love to, but there wasn’t a woman in the world she wanted to see him with less than Spring Forest native Lilah Fairchild.
Mollie was still endlessly grateful that Zeke and Lilah had broken up before that fateful walk down the aisle. Even if her unwitting role in their breakup still made her squirm when she wasn’t able to push the memories from her mind.
Since Lilah, Zeke had kept his dating life separate from his life in Spring Forest. Mollie supposed he thought it easier that way, with less chance of things getting messy.
Mollie thought of the toolbox on the back porch with everything in its proper place. She reached for her glass of milk—because, of course, what else would Zeke expect her to drink?—and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. He’d stuck her in a box clearly labeled Friend, back when she was a kid, and she despaired of ever finding a way to break free.
Setting the glass back on the table, she strove for a casual tone as she said, “You hadn’t mentioned going out with anyone recently.”
He lifted a broad shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m not seeing anyone right now, but I could always make a call.”
Because dating was that easy. Just picking up a phone and making a call. Other than Zeke, Mollie could barely remember the last conversation she’d had with the opposite sex that didn’t involve her business, the shelter or estimates for something that required updating on her house.
Geez, no wonder Zeke thought he had to fix her up! Her love life really was that pathetic.
“I just thought it might make you more comfortable if I was there with you.”
Mollie could think of little that would make her more uncomfortable—including stabbing hot needles into her eyes. She didn’t know which would be worse—Zeke witnessing just how socially inept she was while on some painfully awkward blind date, or sitting across the table from him and watching him romance another woman.
“Right. With me. On a date.”
With her but not dating her. With her while he was on a date with another woman.
* * *
“What about next Friday?” Zeke asked as he pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app. He knew Mollie well enough to realize she’d keep putting the date off—the way she did with the repairs around the house—unless he got her to agree to a specific day and time. “That would give me a chance to—”
“Enough!”
Surprised by the sharp comment, he glanced up from the screen. “What’s wrong? Is next Friday not a good day?”
“No, Zeke,” she gritted out between clenched teeth, “next Friday is not a good day.”
Zeke hadn’t expected her to jump at his suggestion. Not with how stubborn and independent she was. But he also hadn’t expected her to stare at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Mollie—”
“There will never be a good day.” Standing in front of him, she lifted her chin and glared, spots of color flaming in her cheeks. Her slender throat moved as she swallowed, and he bit back a curse.
Though he’d tried easing into the subject of setting her up, he’d clearly embarrassed her. They’d been friends for so long, sometimes he forgot how shy she could be around someone new. He’d never understood how a woman who could stare down a Rottweiler had a hard time looking a guy in the eye.
