as he stepped inside the jail cell. “I’ll ring for the coffee or tea while you tell me what you’ve been up to the past ten years.”
“Ms. Zoe Russell, always ready with a joke.”
She sat up, held out her cuffed hands. “I don’t consider this situation funny at all.”
Ryan joined her on the cot. If it surprised Zoe that she let him, she could tell by the expression on his face she’d surprised Ryan even more. “Don’t you think it’s time you let me loose?”
“Jake found the key.” Ryan fumbled with it before unlocking the cuffs. He cleared his throat. “I see you every morning on TV.”
“Oh?” Zoe stood, stretched her aching arms over her head. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Ryan tidied up the cell, folded the blanket, punched up the pillow. “You watch Wake Up, America?”
“Not exactly. The only way I could get our community liaison here at seven in the morning was to install a TV so she could watch her favorite show. Even without the TV, though, it’d be hard to miss you.”
Her voice chilled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Magazine ads. TV spots during prime time. I’m not criticizing. Just observing how you got what you wished for. Fame. Fortune.” He cupped her shoulder and turned her to face him. “A chance to ham it up in front of millions of people.”
“Is that what you think of me? That all I care about is being a celebrity? I’m a serious journalist. I worked hard to get that spot on Wake Up, America.” She paused, raising herself to her full height of five feet seven inches, but she still fell short of Ryan by almost half a foot and had to tilt her head back to meet him eye-to-eye.
She stared up at him, fascinated by the specks of gold in his blue eyes, the way his dimples deepened when he smiled. For one inexplicable moment she was torn between wiping that smile off his face and kissing him senseless. Then, thankfully, Ryan cleared his throat and broke the moment.
“You’re standing on my foot.”
Zoe glanced down to see her left mud-splattered sneaker on top of his right shiny black boot. She stepped back, horrified to discover large chunks of dirt on his toe.
Ryan took his handkerchief out of his back pocket and Zoe immediately reached for it. After a slight tug-of-war she sighed and let it go. Ryan brushed the dirt off her cheeks and from the tip of her nose. That brief touch made her insides quiver and the goose bumps run up and down her arms. His smile made her weak in the knees. Looking into those blue eyes made her want to kiss him. Which would be wrong. Which would be totally inappropriate. Which would be a giant mistake.
Which was why she had to get away from Ryan before she did something they’d regret. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way Ryan O’Connor made her feel.
“I think I’ve got the worst of it,” he finally said. “Your bail’s been paid. You’re free to go.”
Zoe stepped out of the cell and into freedom. She walked down the hallway to the reception area, aware that Ryan followed in her wake. Aware that he stood a few discreet steps behind her as she signed for her personal belongings. As she swung her tote back onto her shoulder, she tossed a nod in Ryan’s direction. “Is there something else?”
“I’ll walk you home,” Ryan said.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Consider it part of my job.” He swung an arm lightly around her shoulder. Couldn’t he feel the sizzle between them? “I want to make sure you don’t take any more detours.”
They silently walked the three blocks to Kate’s house. She sneaked a glance at Ryan and wondered what life would have been like for Ryan, Kate and her if…if they’d never left Riverbend.
And found him staring at her, intently.
“Am I interrupting something?” a female voice called from the other side of the screen door.
“No!” Zoe and Ryan, their gazes locked, spoke in unison.
“I think I am.” Kate Russell opened the screen door and ushered Zoe inside. “But I’m happy to see my maid of honor and best man are speaking once again.”
Chapter Two
“Ryan O’Connor is your best man?” Zoe dropped onto the queen-size bed in Kate’s guestroom, adjusted the pillows behind her back and propped herself up against the wrought-iron headboard. “First you conveniently forget to tell me he’s back in town. Next you drop the best man bombshell. What other important news are you keeping from me?”
“Why would you think I’m keeping stuff from you?” Kate set two glasses of iced tea on the nightstand before wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and curling up next to Zoe.
“Because you know I hate surprises.” Zoe vigorously toweled her hair. Twenty minutes in a hot shower had done wonders to restore her body but not her mood. Only Ryan O’Connor disappearing into oblivion would do that. “You should have called the minute he crossed into the city limits.”
“You wouldn’t have listened to me,” Kate returned sweetly. “Your exact words were, ‘Don’t anyone, anywhere, at any time, mention that man’s name to me ever again.”’
“That’s hardly the point.” Zoe scowled again at Kate’s snicker. “And I can’t believe I’d say something like that. I was eighteen. Nobody in their right mind pays attention to what eighteen-year-olds say.”
“Ryan did.” Kate said quietly. “So did I.”
Zoe fumbled for a response. When she looked at Kate she felt she was looking into her own soul, although the sisters were as different as night and day.
Zoe had always despaired that with her red hair and fair skin she burned rather than tanned, while Kate, with their paternal grandmother’s exotic dark looks, seemed to keep a deep honey color even in winter. While Zoe was tall, slender and could eat without gaining an ounce, Kate was shorter by several inches with an hourglass figure and had to watch every calorie. Growing up, Zoe had been impulsive, Kate cautious.
As adults, Zoe had become the more conservative, while Kate seemed to be throwing all caution to the wind. Which might explain, Zoe considered as she gazed around the room that had once been hers, why Kate was marrying a man she barely knew.
She walked over to the single window, now framed by sheer white cotton panels. Zoe vividly remembered the day she’d climbed out the window into the tree and somehow lost her balance. A gangly twelve-year-old Ryan, who’d just moved in next door, had carried her inside to treat her scraped hands and knees. She’d been eight, and had developed a full-blown case of puppy love, which had turned into hero worship when they were teens. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d climbed down that tree and joined Kate and Ryan on their adventures.
She and Ryan had climbed the tree together the night of her sweet-sixteen birthday party and he’d kissed her. Zoe hadn’t thought so at the time, but she’d come to realize he hadn’t meant it as a romantic kiss, but one of friendship and affection. But for a starry-eyed Zoe, the kiss had been a turning point. Her feelings about Ryan began deepening
