His One And Only Bride. Tara RandelЧитать онлайн книгу.
the rest of her life alone began to depress her. She’d told her mother and Samantha had apparently gotten onboard.
“I know. It’s just—”
“Zoe?”
“Yes, Mom?”
“I have everything under control here.”
Zoe bit her lip. Growing up, her mother had never been big on responsibility, schedules or running a household. A budding artist, she’d get caught up in her newest project for days, immersed in paint and canvas and flourishes of ideas, forgetting she had to feed a daughter. Or bills to pay. At a young age, Zoe had taken over the mothering role. Old habits died hard, even more so when it came to her son’s welfare.
She blew out a breath. “I appreciate it.” Tim’s truck pulled up to the curb. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
Tapping the end button, Zoe walked the few steps to open the door, but Tim beat her to it.
“Have I told you how nice you look today?” he asked as, always a gentleman, he helped her into the cab.
For the wedding today, she’d found a pretty floral sleeveless dress with a flared skirt and strappy silver sandals to wear, in addition to getting her shoulder-length wispy-cut hairstyle trimmed and actually put on makeup. Very different from her stay-at-home uniform of mom jeans and baggy tops or the more professional wardrobe she used for her mayoral duties. It felt good to dress up for a change and, in a way, she’d wanted to please Tim.
She sent him a genuine smile. “Thanks. You look pretty spiffy yourself.”
Tim closed the door and jogged around the front of the truck. She tried to ignore the jitters that quaked over her at the thought of socializing at the reception. People still gave her the look, the one reserved for a wife who’d lost her husband early in life. Actually, Mitch had been lost to her a few years prior, but no one knew the miserable details. Placing her hands over her stomach, she told herself to calm down. She knew most of the people who would be at the party. Really, she could think of this as another one of her town events. Even though this party had more to do with hearts and arrows than a function benefiting Cypress Pointe.
Tim jumped back in the cab and placed the truck in gear. “I’m glad you decided to come with me today.”
“Thanks for asking. I was already scheduled to do the ceremony, but it’s nice to have your company,” she said, determined not to let reminders of the past ruin her present.
“Look, Zoe, I understand that I’m the first guy you’ve gone out with since Mitch...um...passed away. I know this decision wasn’t easy.” He paused. “You got this watery look in your eyes when you were reading the vows. I thought you might not make it through the ceremony.”
Yeah, she’d had a moment of self-pity. She’d hoped it hadn’t been that obvious. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”
“I want you to know I admire you,” he soldiered on. “Having a baby and finding out Mitch wasn’t coming home? I can’t even imagine the pain you must have gone through. And then performing this wedding today? You’re one tough cookie.”
In the past two years, she’d had to be. “Thanks. I think.”
“I just mean you’ll move on with your life.” He turned his head in her direction. The surety in his gaze made her squirm. “Someday, you’ll find another man.”
Tim continued extolling the virtues that were Zoe Simmons while her stomach churned. She really wanted to make a go of it with Tim. Stop holding him at arm’s length. Let the relationship advance naturally. Grow closer. Maybe if he kissed her, she’d be able to open up to him and get past the reservations about the way her marriage had ended.
Before long, they pulled into the hotel parking lot scattered with crushed white shells. The charming southern plantation facade of the building greeted guests like long lost friends finally coming home. After Tim pulled into an empty space, Zoe grabbed hold of the handle and opened the door without waiting for him to do the honors. She slid out of the cab, shaking off her misgivings. She could do this.
Her feet hit the shells and she made her way to the wide veranda of the Grand Cypress Hotel. The porch was stocked with cozy rocking chairs situated in front of the wide windows with thick plantation shutters.
“Hey, Zoe. Wait up.”
She was being prickly, and she knew it. He’d made her sound like a saint and she was far from one. If she’d been a better person, she wouldn’t have been filing for a divorce after making one last-ditch effort to fix her marriage. Wouldn’t have screamed, I never want to see you again, the final time her husband walked out the door because her heart was breaking and she’d had enough.
Yes, she’d picked up the pieces after Mitch’s death. Grieved the man, as well as the marriage that had been collateral damage when his career had carried him to every corner of the world. If there was the hint of a government coup, political upheaval or celebrity scandal, Mitch was there with his camera. But the idea of a new man, Tim or anyone else for that matter, took some getting used to. One day, she would be totally one hundred percent over Mitch. Today was now or never.
Stopping by the glass-etched main entrance, she faced Tim when he caught up to her. “Please go inside,” she told him. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
For the first time he looked unsure of himself. “Was it something I said?”
“I need to gather my thoughts.” She tilted her head toward the building. “I’ll be in soon.”
“If you say so.”
A blast of air conditioning drifted over Zoe as Tim went inside. Heaving a breath, she lowered herself onto a rocking chair a few feet away and smoothed the cotton skirt of her dress with shaky fingers.
Mitch still had the power to reduce her to uncertainty. It hadn’t always been that way. When they’d met in high school, then married young, he’d always made her laugh. Given her hope.
But once he’d become Mr. Hotshot Photojournalist, things had begun to change. Subtly at first. He was a thrill seeker from the get-go; she shouldn’t have been surprised when he thrived at his job. She, on the other hand, had always been leery about walking into the unknown. She had been wounded as an innocent bystander in a bank robbery, and the helplessness she’d felt then had never left her. It had, in fact, spurred on her commitment to the town and the people of Cypress Pointe. Mitch, meanwhile, had craved the action and on the way to success, her concerns hadn’t seemed to matter to him.
Can’t blame him. You had your part in the breakup.
It was true, but she’d hoped Mitch would put their failing marriage first. When he didn’t, she’d become even more civic-minded, throwing her energy into projects bettering the lives of her friends and neighbors. But what if she’d tried harder? Maybe battled her fears? Gone with him a time or two to show her support? If she’d known then what she knew now, she might have made a different choice.
A couple headed in her direction, dressed up for the wedding-reception revelry inside.
“Good afternoon, Mayor.”
She waved. It still felt odd answering to that title. She’d always been Zoe. Just plain Zoe. Mitch Simmons’s wife. Leo’s mother. Samantha’s daughter. Now she had a responsibility to the good people of Cypress Pointe. She wasn’t completely sure how that had happened. One day she was busy with her latest community project, a food bank, when her best friend suggested she’d make an awesome mayor. Next thing she knew, she was running an election and won.
Now she ran a town, dealt with a town council, worked closely with the police and fire chiefs, along with other officials, and found herself thriving. Her ideas were accepted and embraced, and best of all, successful. Her passionate goal of keeping Cypress Pointe safe for current and future generations was falling into place.
“Are you