One of These Nights (24 page)

Jason snorted. “Didn't realize I was so in demand.”

“Hey, this is going to be the decade of Jason Evans. By the time you're thirty-five, you'll be Brad Pitt and there'll be paparazzi in the bushes.”

That, coupled with Jake's grin, made him laugh. They'd never had much in common, at least outwardly—Jake was average height, with a build that had made him a natural athlete and a face that screamed “boy next door” so loud that the girls had always come running if he aimed his sunny smile in their direction. Jason had always been too tall, too skinny, too quiet, and too acerbic, running cross-country because it kept him in shape and dating only rarely because his bony physique hadn't exactly been the kind of draw that would have induced girls to look past his defensive shyness. The skinny had gone, but not before graduation. His personality hadn't changed nearly as much. And yet, he'd always been closer to his cousin than most. He liked it better now that Jake had ditched the worst of his insulated little circle of immature high school buddies, though.

Jake's hazel eyes fixed on him like lasers as soon as he sat down. “So,” he said. “Better week?”

“Yes,” Jason said, nodding slowly after a moment of consideration. “Quieter.”

Jake chuckled. “Bet the silence coming out of Florida is deafening.”

Jason tipped down his chin to give Jake the most baleful look he could muster. “You know damn well that isn't the good kind of quiet. That's horror-movie quiet. The kind that happens right before someone gets brutally dismembered. I'm ignoring it while I can.”

“I don't blame you. Aunt Molly was really on a roll this time.”

“No kidding,” Jason said, turning his head to watch a cardinal land on one of the bird feeders. “She seemed a little off the whole time. Even for her.”

“Yeah, well, that would be a subtle difference. Did she say anything?” Jake asked.

Jason twisted his mouth up. “Sure, lots of things. Not about anything wrong at home, though. I feel like that's got to be it, but what? Dad would never leave; she's got his number. Would he have an affair? Maybe. Or,” he continued, lifting his soda to his lips, “it's Tommy.” Voicing his suspicion only made it stronger. His parents' marriage was weird and dysfunctional, but stable. Tommy, though, had never been as perfect as their mother had made him out to be. It made him wonder what kind of trouble his brother might have gotten into, but he couldn't come up with anything.

Tommy would have invented some newer, better, more amazing way to screw up, he guessed. Maybe if they talked more often . . . but Jason had long ago come to terms with the fact that blood was the only tie they were ever going to share.

Jake's eyes glittered with mischief. “The golden child? Descending into imperfection? No way.”

“Could happen,” Jason replied, and he managed a rueful chuckle about it. “Maybe Mom found him someone just like her and he's tied up in a basement somewhere being forced to watch the Design Network until his mind breaks.”

“I'm going to tell Fitz that,” Jake said, grinning. “He'll like that one. Can add it to his little mental stash of revenge fantasies.”

“I don't think he needs them, considering,” Jason said. “If he wanted to brag, he would win so hard that my entire family would end up embedded in the pavement, like Loki after Hulk smashes him.” Very few people knew about Fitz's line of work or financial situation, and their friend seemed intent upon keeping it that way. Jason thought he understood. It wasn't fun to have the eyes of the entire town trained on you. His divorce had gotten him more attention than he'd ever wanted, but it had faded quickly enough once all was said and done.

Fitz, though, was a different case. It wouldn't be so easy for him.

He relaxed in his chair, enjoying the afternoon as he watched Rosie start to roll happily in the grass. With his luck, she'd found something dead. Or something that had come out the wrong end of a much larger creature. “If she stinks, you get to bathe her,” he informed Jake. “You owe me for all the pink accessories she keeps turning up with.”

“You shouldn't be trying to suppress her femininity.”

“She yacks up food on my rugs and lifts her leg when she pees. I don't think femininity is real high on Rosie's priority list.”

“Still,” Jake said with a snort. “Maybe you should call Zoe to come help you out with it.” Jake cast him a sly grin. “Since, you know, she's
actually
your girlfriend now. Couldn't have seen that one coming a mile away.”

Jason tensed immediately, even though he knew it was ridiculous. What did he care what people thought? His love life, such as it was, was his business. Except that wasn't how things worked in the Cove, or anywhere else. He and Zoe were interesting because they were an odd match. People, their friends included, would be watching with interest.

Just like the last time.

“Everything's okay with you two, right?” Jake asked, pulling Jason's attention back to him. His cousin was frowning, and Jason knew he must have had a look on his face.

“Yeah, fine. I think. I dunno.”

Jake's eyebrows raised. “That's encouraging.”

“No, it's fine. We talk. Been a busy week for her. That thing she's doing for Aaron is eating a lot of her time.”

“Oh,” Jake said. The word itself was innocuous. The way he said it was profoundly irritating.

“Oh nothing,” Jason grumbled. “And don't try to give me advice. You got lucky because Sam has weird taste in men, not because you're some kind of love expert.”

“Love, huh?” Jake asked with interest. “Is that—”

The panic that flooded him was immediate. “No! Jesus, I was just giving you a hard time! I'm not having this conversation. Zoe's fine. I'm fine. Things are—”

“Fine. Got it.”

“Good.”

Jason slouched back into his chair. Jake was silent across from him and seemed to have found something interesting to study off in the back of the yard. Jason felt a twinge of guilt for snapping. But he wasn't ready to examine his feelings for Zoe yet, much less have a discussion about them. All thinking about it did was tie him up in knots, which was useless . . . and he had no way to clear his head, being laid up the way he was. He was stuck with the company of his own thoughts way too often. And he would be again before too long if he kept being so sunshiny with his cousin. Knowing Jake's intentions, at least, were good, he sighed and relented a little.

“We're going out tomorrow night. She's picking the spot. So seriously, things are fine.”

Jake regarded him with slightly wary interest. Finally he said, “Okay. You're pretty prickly about it, but okay. I didn't come over so we could fight about Zoe. She can deal with you.”

“Sorry,” Jason said, and shoved a hand through his hair. He really did need to do something about the length. He was going to go the full mountain man before he went back to work at this rate, though at least he could handle shaving his face himself. Zoe had inspired him to make shaving a regular part of his routine again . . . just in case. He wanted her to enjoy his kisses, not wince in pain. “I haven't seen her this week and I've been cooped up,” he continued. “I really need to get this cast off.”

That earned him a chuckle. “Yeah. You do. It's like watching a wounded bear in a cage.”

“I want to start running again,” Jason said. “When the leg is healed. I miss being able to blow off steam just by getting outside.”

“We can do that. I can handle a few days of poking along so you can keep up,” Jake said. “And quit worrying about Zoe. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears, and it's pointless. She likes you.” He smirked. “Even if her reasoning remains a mystery, she likes you. Be grateful.”

Jason snorted, though the ribbing did make him feel a little better. “I guess,” he said.

“You
guess
.” Jake stretched his legs in front of him. “Zoe's beautiful, smart, driven, classy . . . and she seems pretty settled here.” Jake looked at him pointedly. “That's a big plus.”

Settled.
Not like Sara was.
Satisfied with her life here. Not like Sara was.
At least Jake wouldn't say it out loud, though. He knew how tired Jason had gotten tired of hearing her name, of hearing it invoked as an excuse for the state of his personal life. So things hadn't worked out between them. That kind of thing happened every day. If he'd taken anything away from the divorce besides some hard feelings, it had been that some differences were just too big to work around. He knew who he was. In the future, he'd sworn, he would be more careful about finding women who understood and wanted what they were getting.

Which was, he supposed, why he was still single and living with a dog.

“Anyway, she's exactly your type,” Jake continued. “I don't think you two getting together surprised anybody but . . . well, you two.”

His type—what was that, exactly? He still didn't have it figured out, and it rankled that Jake seemed to. He and Zoe certainly created sparks when they were together, even now. This week, he'd discovered just how much he craved them, craved
her
when she wasn't around.

It was dangerous and shifting ground he was on.

“I don't think I have a type,” Jason said. “Rosie's my type.” At the sound of her name, she looked up curiously from where she was peacefully grazing on some grass and then, unimpressed, went back to munching.

“Pretty sure that's illegal,” Jake said. “And that's uncalled for,” he added when Jason responded with a gesture instead of words.

“So was the love advice, which I got anyway.”

“Hey, don't knock good, free advice. Well, free advice, anyway. Okay,” he said, getting to his feet. “I guess I've brought enough sunshine into your day. You want me to take fluffy butt here for a few hours? My lazy cat probably needs the exercise.”

“No, that's okay. I appreciate it. She's good company, though. And she'd probably just puke up the grass at your house.”

“I've seen so much worse,” Jake replied. “A little grass puke doesn't faze me. You're just worried about the next pink thing, I bet.” He grinned. “You should be.”

They both turned their heads at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Jason immediately felt his stomach begin to dance and tried to mask it with polite interest.

“Expecting somebody?” Jake asked.

“Nope. Guess it's just my day for visitors,” Jason replied. He heard the car door shut, and the familiar sound of bootheels on pavement.
Zoe.
He'd been waiting for her, hoping for her to just swing by when he wasn't expecting it. Not because he'd asked, but because she wanted to see him.

Some part of him hadn't really expected it, despite the night they'd spent together. She was busy, he reasoned. The novelty would wear off. They'd slowly go back to being . . . whatever. Incompatible. Which was better, right? Because then there'd be less heartache.

At the sound of Zoe's voice inside the house, that defeatist voice finally shut the hell up.

“Jason? Jake? You two out back?”

“We're out here, Zoe,” Jason called to her. Then he noticed Jake's smug smile. “What?”

“I was right, see? You should quit worrying. I'm always right.”

Jason groaned. “Jesus. Go home, Jake. Go inflict yourself on your pretty wife, whose taste I will never understand.”

“She has superior taste,” Jake said. Then his smile faded. “Hey, take this in the spirit in which it's intended, okay? But . . . be good to Zoe.”

Jason blinked, startled by the earnestness of the request. And after a moment, he was more than slightly offended. “Of course I'll be good to her. What the hell is that supposed to mean? You know me.”

“I do,” Jake replied, and there was a look in his eyes that reminded Jason that his cousin knew more about him than almost anyone . . . certainly more than he would have preferred. “I also know how hard you try not to let anyone get under your skin. She does. You might want to try and let that be a good thing and just go with it.”

“I know,” Jason interjected. “I've been around the block before, remember? Beautiful, artsy, classy, likes me for inexplicable reasons . . .” He didn't know why he'd said it. It shouldn't have any bearing here, and from the look on Jake's face, his cousin agreed.

“Yeah, I remember. And if you think Zoe has anything in common with Sara, then you don't know her at all.”

“I know,” Jason said again. And he did, at least intellectually. He was just a lot more screwed up when it came to the emotional part of relationships. That was neither Zoe's fault nor her problem, though, and he needed to keep that in mind.

“I hope so, because you'd be missing out on a lot otherwise,” Jake replied, just an instant before the woman in question stepped out the door and onto the deck. Her hair was down, an explosion of curls that framed her face and, coupled with the skinny jeans she wore, left her looking less businesslike—and more fun—than she normally allowed herself to appear. Plus, she was completely adorable. Jason heard a soft sigh, then realized it had come from him. Zoe wouldn't have heard it, but the snort beside him told him Jake had.

“You two playing nice out here?” Zoe asked, sliding the door shut behind her and heading toward them. Jason drank in the light in her eyes, along with her casual, sensual grace, and suddenly he wanted Jake to go very, very far away. To his credit, Jake seemed to think that was a good idea without being told.

“As nice as we ever do. I'm just heading out. Have fun, you two. Make good decisions.”

Zoe laughed as Jake walked past her, watching him head back through the house. Then she turned her attention on Jason, stooping for a moment to greet Rosie even though she barely took her eyes from him. What he saw there made his heartbeat quicken, his breath grow shallow. Every worry about her absence this week vanished. He'd hoped for her to come to him because he was what she wanted.