SEATTLE CINDERELLA: FOUR-IN-ONE COLLECTION Page 17

  He didn’t say anything as the band stepped onto the small stage, but when the music started he twined his fingers with hers and held her hand under the table. At the end of every song he released her hand just long enough for a short applause.

  They barely said more than a dozen sentences for the duration of the evening, but like their time on the trail—except when she was running after him trying to kill him—the silence was comfortable.

  They were just two friends enjoying a relaxing evening together.

  Except that friends probably didn’t hold hands.

  The leader announced their last song, a ballad, and the music began again.

  Zella found herself wishing the evening could last longer, even though she had to get up early for work the next morning.

  Halfway through the song, Trevor’s hand slid out of hers.

  She turned to him and opened her mouth to ask why he’d pulled away, when his fingers rested on her cheek.

  “This is kind of a romantic song, so…” His words trailed off, and he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and kissed her.

  This time, it was no quick brush of his lips. He settled in, gently and tenderly and sweetly.

  Slowly, he broke contact, returned to a sitting position in his chair, and laced his fingers between hers. He’d said he was going to be romantic, and he was. She hadn’t seen this coming, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about the change.

  Instead of watching the band, she watched Trevor, who didn’t seem to notice where she was looking.

  She wished she knew what he was thinking. All she’d wanted was to be friends, but friends didn’t act this way. A friend wouldn’t have kissed like that, leaving her heart pounding and her head swimming.

  And if she were just a friend, she wouldn’t be wanting another one just like it.

  She applauded politely after the last song ended, and like all the patrons, they left the building while the band packed up.

  During the ride home she chattered endlessly about the band, barely letting him get a word in edgewise, until they arrived at her house and he stopped in the driveway.

  She quickly scrambled out of the car, but like a gentleman, he also exited the car and escorted her to the front door.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he said in a low, husky voice, exactly like he’d sounded earlier over the phone.

  Knowing what was going to happen, she let him grip her waist and gently pull her toward him, and he kissed her again. Only this time, his arms slowly slid until they were wrapped around her and he embraced her fully. She slid her arms around his back, clutching him like she was drowning as he kissed her with passion and intent, like he meant it. Heat coursed through her as he stopped, nibbled her bottom lip, and then kissed her again.

  When he started to pull away, she slowly began to realize that they were standing by her front door, where anyone in the neighborhood could see them, if anyone cared to look.

  As she stepped away, the blinds moved.

  Zella covered her face with her hands. “Oh no. My mother.”

  She didn’t regret what had just happened. In fact it had been the greatest kiss of her life. But now that her mother had seen it, Zella had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long before she started getting questions about wedding bells.

  Trevor wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. He kissed the tip of her nose then smiled. “Don’t worry about her. Let’s just take this one day at a time. I’ll see you tomorrow, I hope?”

  Zella struggled to make her voice work. “Sure. But let’s make definite plans.”

  Plans that didn’t involve dark places with candles and music. Or kisses that he didn’t have to work very hard to steal.

  He’d once mentioned rock climbing, an idea that she’d rejected.

  Suddenly rock climbing sound like a lot of fun.

  Chapter 7

  Where are you going this time?”

  Zella sighed as she sat on the couch to tie her sneakers. “It’s Friday. I’m going to my book club meeting. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right away.”

  “Will you be seeing Trevor?”

  “Yes.”

  “He certainly is a handsome man, isn’t he?”

  Zella’s fingers froze halfway through the process of wrapping the bow on her laces. When they’d first met, the first thing that struck her about him was that he was, without a doubt, incredibly handsome. But besides his good looks, the thing she liked the most about him was his sense of humor. He was a very down-to-earth guy, taking everything in stride, chalking it up to experience—or when he was in writer mode, research.

  Fortunately he didn’t bruise easily, or else his arms and legs would be as blue as his eyes. When he’d fallen off the climbing wall last weekend, the staff had been ready to call for an ambulance. In the end he’d only had the wind knocked out of him, but she’d been terrified watching him struggle to catch his breath for those first agonizingly long seconds. When he’d regained enough strength to stand, he fought through his labored breathing, unable to wait, so excited to tell her about the incredible sensation of the freefall. Until he landed on the padded mat, which wasn’t nearly as well padded as they’d been led to believe. Then he forgot all about complaining about the mat and went back to talking about the freefall and how the next thing they would have to try was skydiving.

  Over her dead body.

  But then, since he was writing a murder mystery, that was a phrase she could never use around him. Whenever she did, he waggled his eyebrows and laughed.

  She cleared her throat and began again, tying the bow. “Yes, he’s handsome.” In fact, he was so handsome that when they were out in public, she noticed other women watching him, which she didn’t appreciate one bit.

  “And so tall. He’s even taller than you.”

  Zella’s fingers froze. She didn’t need to be reminded of how much she stuck out in a crowd, even when she wore the flattest shoes she could buy that still looked half-dainty. Actually, nothing looked dainty in a size ten.

  But on the other hand, along with his stolen kisses, Trevor had stolen a piece of her heart when he so gently kissed her on the nose.

  No man had ever done that before. First, because no man she’d dated before had to bend down to kiss her nose when they were both standing, but mostly because he’d done it like she was delicate and special. He’d done it to calm her when she had been feeling agitated. That alone earned him points, whether their relationship was real or not.

  “Yes, he’s tall.”

  “Is he a keeper?”

  Zella zipped her mouth shut. For this, there was no right answer.

  “I have to get going; I’m going to be late.”

  She finally finished tying her sneakers and had almost made it to the door when her cell phone rang. The display showed it was Cindy, which meant it was an answer Zella was waiting for.

  Zella glanced at the time as she flipped the phone open. “Hey, Cindy, sorry to bother you. Don’t worry, my car is fine. I’m asking for a friend. I need to know how long before the brakes would fail if the brake line is punctured and dripping.”

  “Who’s having brake trouble?”

  She couldn’t admit to Cindy she was writing a book. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Annie. So far she was having fun, but unfortunately she hadn’t written anything worthwhile because she’d found out that it was much harder than it looked. However, she was having a blast reading and commenting on everyone else’s books and helping with the background research.

  “I’m asking for a friend. He’s not having trouble, actually, it’s more of a hypothetical question. We were just talking about leaking brake lines and how bad it would be before an accident happened. If he was really having trouble with his brakes, you’d be the first to know.”

  Cindy laughed. “Thanks for the reference. I’m sorry I can’t give you an exact answer on that. It really depends how fast it’s dripping and if th
e hole is bad enough that dirt or water gets into the line, which can be just as bad as the brake fluid coming out.”

  “That helps a lot. I hate to be short but I’m on my way to see him right now. ‘Bye.”

  Once again Zella checked the time as she flicked her phone shut and continued on her way to the door. She had just turned the knob and started to pull the door open when her mother’s voice came from behind her.

  “What time will you be home? Are you going out with Trevor again when your meeting is over?”

  “Yes. Probably.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t know. I’m thinking he seems a little”—she paused, seemingly thinking of the right word—“nefarious.”

  Zella blinked hard and turned to look at her mother. “Nefarious? What kind of word is that? Have you been reading my new T. J. Zereth book?”

  “Of course not. I don’t read that kind of junk. I know you and Annie like it, but I don’t. I’m just not so sure about your Trevor. Why were you talking to Cindy about brake lines?”

  Zella struggled to think of something to say. If her mother was having thoughts that Trevor might be disreputable, she certainly wasn’t going to tell her that she had asked Cindy about cutting brake lines on Trevor’s behalf. “I think you’re feeling nervous because Trevor is the first man I’ve dated who is actually taller than me when I wear shoes. Maybe he looks nefarious from down there, but from my height, it’s a welcome treat. I really have to go; I’m going to be late. I’ll probably be going out with Trevor afterward, so don’t wait up.”

  Before her mother could ask any more questions, Zella dashed out to her car and was moving before she barely had the seat belt fastened. If she caught all the lights green, maybe she could still make it on time.

  Trevor tapped his fingers on the tabletop, watching the door, ignoring the chattering around him, and especially ignoring Sheila as she flitted around the room.

  For what felt like the tenth time, he checked his cell phone, but there were no missed calls. No new text messages.

  But then again, Zella was too sensible to text and drive.

  He looked up at the clock on the wall.

  She was late.

  His stomach churned.

  She was never late.

  Something was wrong.

  If she wasn’t coming because she’d somehow figured out that he was T. J. Zereth before he’d worked up the courage to tell her, he’d never forgive himself.

  At first, he only wanted to get to know her a bit better before he told her, in case things changed. But then, the more they got to know each other, the more afraid he became, knowing things between them would indeed change. Every time he started to talk about his alter ego she got all starry eyed, like they were talking about a movie star or one of the all-time great mystery authors like Ellery Queen.

  By then he didn’t know if she would be angrier at him for not telling her or more disappointed that he wasn’t special at all. He was just Trevor Jones, full-time windshield repair technician and part-time writer, who, by the grace of God, hit the bestseller list on a couple of slow weeks, and that brief success was what sold him as a series author.

  His fear had become so great that for the last three meetings, as he was coming up on a deadline, he’d been too afraid to submit his chapters to the group for fear that Zella would recognize his writing as T. J. Zereth, part-time writer and full-time coward.

  He nearly went into heart palpitations when she ran in the door.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. I hope you weren’t waiting for me.” Zella unceremoniously dumped the wad of everyone’s chapters full of her meticulous red notes out of her purse and straightened the pile in front of her.

  “I poured you a coffee,” Trevor muttered and pushed the now-lukewarm mug toward her.

  “Thanks,” she said as she sipped it then turned to him. “I think I’m all caught up on reading everyone’s chapters. I’ve got one of yours from a few weeks ago. It’s really good. Has anyone ever told you that you write a lot like T. J. Zereth?”

  Trevor had never been so glad that he wasn’t currently sipping on his coffee. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I’ve been told that.”

  She stared at him, waiting, but he had no intention of saying more.

  Sheila settled down in her chair. “I’ve met T. J. Zereth.”

  Zella turned toward Sheila so fast her hair flapped then landed in her face. She swiped it away and stared at Sheila. “Really? Did he sign one of his books for you?”

  Sheila grinned ear to ear. “He certainly did.”

  Trevor held his breath. He hoped Sheila wasn’t going to show it to her because Zella had seen his handwriting. He had notes scribbled all over Zella’s last chapter.

  Zella’s eyes widened. “What’s he like?”

  Sheila folded her hands in front of her on the table. “He’s not like you think he’d be. He’s not at all shy or quiet. He talks a lot about things that aren’t important, and then when something needs to be said, he holds back.”

  Zella turned to Trevor and grabbed his forearm with one hand, squeezing so tight he was sure she was leaving the imprint of her hand. “Did you hear that? He’s secretive. I bet he’s just as mysterious as his books.”

  “And one more thing,” Sheila said. “He doesn’t really look like that picture on his website, unless he’s trying to hide something.”

  Trevor glared at Sheila. “I know one more piece of information. I hear he’s thinking of killing off Mrs. Rubenstein in the next book.”

  A hush fell around the table, and everyone turned to look at Sheila.

  Zella squeezed his arm even tighter. “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t know. I just kinda get that feeling.”

  Sheila cleared her throat and tapped her pen on the table. “Enough. We don’t want to run out of time. Let’s start with Sasha’s chapter.”

  The meeting seemed to drag on forever, and Trevor had never been so glad to see a meeting end as he was tonight.

  This weekend he was going to tell her, before it got past the point of no return. If it wasn’t already.

  After they’d finished packing up, he walked with her to her car then stood in front of her door so she couldn’t get away without talking to him first.

  “How would you like to go to the corn maze at the Carpinito Brothers farm tomorrow? I need to do another chase scene, but chasing a woman through the forest and dodging trees is getting a little old. I need something different.”

  “That sounds like fun. I’ve never been to a corn maze. It’s supposed to be a nice day, so—”

  Zella’s cell phone stopped her words.

  She muttered something he couldn’t hear as she dug it out of her purse. “I can’t believe how many times this stupid thing has interrupted me today. Why did we ever think cell phones were a good thing to have?” She checked the display then flipped it open. “Hi, Mom. What do you need?”

  Trevor watched as her brows knotted and she raised her wrist and checked her watch.

  “Now? Are you serious?”

  She nodded and listened, her lips drawing into a tight frown.

  “I suppose I could. I’ll see you soon.”

  She flipped the phone closed with a sharp flick of her wrist and rammed it in her purse.

  “I don’t believe this. My mother picked now to bake a cake, and she says she’s halfway through and just realized that she’s out of eggs. I can’t go out for coffee. I have to go to the Fred Meyer and hurry home. But what was even stranger was that she said that she wants me to meet the son of a friend of hers from bingo, and she said he’s much more handsome and nicer than you. What have you done to my mother that she’s trying to replace you?”

  Trevor struggled to remember the only time he’d met Zella’s mother. He’d thought everything went well. She’d even primped and tried to flirt with him, as if he would be interested in the mother of the woman with whom he’d already fallen in love.

  His he
art nearly stopped.

  Love.

  He’d finally admitted it to himself, even though he already knew that he’d given Zella his heart. He’d always thought love at first sight was just something that sold romance novels to women, but it really was true, because it had happened to him. Zella was his friend and soul mate, and it just occurred to him that he wanted her to be his wife. She was perfect for him in every way.

  “You’ve got a strange look on your face. Don’t let your mind wander. You do that a lot, you know. Think of what you said to my mother.”

  “Oops. Sorry. Give me a minute.” While Zella stood before him tapping her foot on the pavement, Trevor searched his memory for the details of the short conversation he’d had with Melissa, or something that he might have done to make her think he wasn’t good enough for her daughter.

  Aside from not being entirely up front about who he really was, he couldn’t think of anything. In fact if Melissa had found out before Zella that he was T. J. Zereth, then the opposite of what was happening would be more likely. Most people thought authors made much more money than they really did. So far, he was considered mid-list, but he was on the brink of reaching the big-time placement and royalty statements he could live on.

  “I don’t know. But whatever it is, I don’t want to make it worse. I’ll go with you to the Fred Meyer because there’s a few things I need for myself. Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you think it would help if I bought a dozen corn on the cobs for your mother as a makeup gift?”

  Zella shook her head. “No. My mother really hates corn. Let’s get going. I don’t want to make whatever she’s going through any worse.”

  Chapter 8

  Wow. This is a lot of corn.”

  Zella dragged one hand down her face and sighed. “We’re standing at the entrance to a corn maze. What did you think we’d see here? Oats?”

  Trevor’s cheeks darkened, which Zella thought adorable. She didn’t often see a man blush. “I guess that wasn’t a very intellectual observation. I think what I was trying to say is that I hadn’t imagined it being quite like this.”