hands against the overwhelming rush of desire that swarmed her. She wanted to hug him back, to hold him close, to kiss him hard and deep and bury her emotions in the passion she knew they’d find all over again.
He drew back, gazing down at her, palms rubbing circles against her shoulders.
She told herself to step away. She had about five seconds to make the right choice. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted. She knew that expression, could feel the pulse of his thoughts. She held her breath as he bent forward.
She forced herself to jerk back. “No.”
The word stopped him cold. His jaw clenched, and his hands convulsed, squeezing her shoulders for a second longer.
“We can’t,” she managed to say.
He dropped his hands and stepped back, voice clipped. “Sorry.”
She turned her head, afraid to look at him while she gave a short nod. “I’ll get back to work.”
“Yeah.”
She heard him turn. Heard the clatter of Ozzy’s footsteps. Heard the door open then close, and their sounds disappeared.
Zach slouched in a dusty, French-provincial chair in the topmost reaches of a castle tower, Ozzy curled sleeping in his lap, and his cell phone squeezed in one hand as the bulldozers rumbled into the rear, gravel parking lot. Alex was speed-dial one, but Zach couldn’t bring himself to press the button just yet.
Abigail had agreed to stay another day. She’d made it crystal clear that she had her doubts about their success with the license. Truth was, he had his doubts, too. But he couldn’t dwell on that. There was only one route forward.
He’d signed off on the construction contract this morning, and it was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. In his experience, any action was better than no action. He knew that if he sat here and did nothing, the company would trickle down to an inevitable death.
He pressed his thumb on the one key and lifted the phone to his ear.
Alex picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Zach.”
The clatter of background noise quickly faded as Alex obviously moved to a different location.
“How’s it going?” Zach asked his business partner.
“I just found out that Shetland Trucking went bankrupt,” Alex rattled off in a matter-of-fact voice. “There’s a mechanical breakdown at the bottling plant in Charlotte. And Stephanie walked out on me last night. So, pretty much business as usual.”
“Again?” Zach asked.
“Which part?”
“Stephanie.”
“It was inevitable,” said Alex.
“She serious this time?”
“If she’s not, I am. I don’t know what other guys do, but I’m not into working sixteen-hour days then coming home to talk about my feelings.”
“So, how’re you feeling about that?” Zach couldn’t help joking.
“Shut up.”
“We can talk about it if you like.”
“Then can we braid each other’s hair?”
“You get a new trucking company?” Zach went back to business.
“As of this morning. What about you?”
“I’m looking at the bulldozers now.”
“Fantastic. So, you got the license?”
“Not yet.”
Alex paused. “What do you mean, not yet?”
“Abigail’s still working on it.”
Another pause. “But you started anyway?”
“We’re out of time.”
It took a minute for Alex to speak. “You’re putting it all on one roll of the dice?”
“I am.”
“And if we don’t get the license?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“It’s a veiled criticism.”
“You’d have done the same thing.”
“Maybe. Probably.” Alex heaved a sigh. “Hell, what’ve we got to lose?”
“Beer.”
Alex coughed out a laugh. “At least we’re both still employable as bartenders,” he said, referring to the first jobs they’d had after they left the group home.
“I could start all over.” Zach wasn’t worried about himself. He’d give up the Houston penthouse, the sports car and his platinum credit card in the blink of an eye. Some of the happiest times of his life were when he and Alex had shared a tiny basement suite while they saved up the down payment for their first brewery.
But he’d hate to be forced to lay off even one employee. Many of them had kids and mortgages, and for the first time were settling into normal lives.
“Need a roommate while you start over?” asked Alex. “The apartment lease is in Stephanie’s name.”
“You’re homeless?”
“I am.”
“You’ve got my spare key.”
“I guess it’s either your place or the Four Seasons.”
“Hey, we’re on a budget now.” Zach glanced at the third bulldozer rumbling and clanking its way off the trailer. If this all went bad, their days at the Four Seasons were definitely over.
“The Family Inn on Hawthorn Street?” Alex suggested.
“Get your ass to my place.”
“Yeah, I probably will. How long do you think you’ll be in Colorado?”
“A couple more days, anyway. Hopefully, Lucas can take it from there.”
The aging door to the tower room creaked. Both Zach and Ozzy looked toward the sound. Abigail peeked around the end of the thick, oak panels.
“Gotta go,” said Zach, meeting her eyes.
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
“You’d better bring this one home,” Alex warned.
It was probably the hundredth time Alex had said that to Zach over the years. They’d been in many tight spots before, taken plenty of risks, but this was truly a make-or-break moment.
“I know.” Zach clicked off the phone and tucked it into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She moved around the end of the door and into the room, glancing at the curved walls, dusty furniture, boxes and crates, and the collection of knickknacks and outright junk that covered every horizontal surface.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Quite the collection,” he acknowledged, dislodging Ozzy as he came to his feet.
“Don’t get up.”
“I’m already up.”
She gave him a rueful grimace. “I just came to tell you that something’s come up.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “To do with the license?”
“To do with me. I have to go to Houston.”
“Why?” Was it an excuse to get away from him?
