She sighed, turning once more to face the lake, forcing her hungry gaze away from Joe and everything she saw in his eyes that she lacked. She let out a wistful sigh and hugged herself, simply absorbing the splendor of early summer in Tennessee on the lake.
She went very still when a strong hand wrapped gently around her nape, offering it a gentle squeeze.
“Was it fun kicking my ass?” Joe asked lightly.
She was too afraid to look back at him, knowing how raw she must appear in this moment. The corners of her mouth tipped upward in a ghost of a smile as she attempted to lift the veil of melancholy that had slowly draped itself over her like an incoming fog. He would ask questions. Questions that required answers she herself didn’t even know or want to know.
Then she turned her sad smile on him, the words pouring out of her chest despite her not wanting to speak.
“Does it make me pathetic that one of the highlights of my life has now been skipping a perfectly smooth stone that I found while wading in an ankle-deep stream with my jeans rolled up from a dock overlooking one of the most gorgeous views I’ve ever seen in my life? All after having the most wonderful entire day I’ve ever had?”
His hand stilled and then his thumb feathered over the sensitive skin behind her ear. She closed her eyes when he leaned into her side and pressed his lips to her temple.
“Does it make me any more pathetic that one of the highlights of my life was teaching a gorgeous woman in bare feet with rolled-up jeans how to skip that stone seven times across the lake all while enjoying one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen?”
Her eyes widened and she swiveled, staring up at him in shock. He was suddenly so serious when all day he’d been so lighthearted and teasing. Sincerity radiated from his expression and his eyes never once wavered from her profile, giving a clear indication of just what view he was referencing.
The warm imprint of his fingers on her neck remained long after he pulled away.
“I should get you back home,” he said in a low voice as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. “Ma will have dinner ready soon and she won’t be happy if I don’t get you back in time.”
He reached for her hand, much as he’d done at the beginning of the day, and they returned to his truck in silence. His easy charm and ready laughter, so prevalent all afternoon, were now replaced by a silent, almost brooding mood, though he made an obvious attempt to smile each time she glanced his way.
When they pulled up to his mother’s house a few minutes later, a permanent ache seemed instilled in her chest. So lucky. These people were so lucky to have the lives they had. To have so many people who loved and cared about them. That the simple things evidently weren’t taken for granted.
Life just seemed to move at a slower pace here, and that statement placed against Rusty’s—and now Joe’s—explanation of what he and his brothers did seemed laughable. No doubt they’d argue that dodging bullets and bombs, protecting people in danger and bringing justice to the people who would corrupt the very way of life the Kellys held in such esteem could hardly be considered a slower pace, but this place, these people, seemed to defy it, to send a message to the outside world.
And above all, they answered their calling without allowing the ever-increasing fast-paced corruption of the outside world and humankind’s resignation and acceptance over the near extinction of core beliefs once valued by so many others in the world to infringe on the way of life they held so sacred.
People like the Kellys simply didn’t exist outside of movies and popular fiction. People and places like the ones Zoe had come to experience in her short time here with Rusty were thought behind the times, not current or relevant. She herself would have likely laughed in disbelief over a description of what she was now witnessing firsthand, dismissing it as simple nostalgia for something created by people who’d lived decades ago before the explosion of modern technology.
In other words, places—people—like this were just myths.
Only now that Zoe had experienced it, had felt it, tasted it, seized upon it, she desperately didn’t want to let go. When the real world intruded—and damn it, that time would come—she knew that if she survived that inevitable collision, nothing would ever be the same for her again. Nothing in her life up to now had ever been real.
She nearly laughed aloud as Joe halted them at the top of the front porch steps. Here she was offering somewhat sagely that people like the Kellys didn’t exist outside fiction when her entire life had been nothing but a staged, made-up alternate reality, and as a result, she still didn’t have the first clue as to who she was or what her purpose was.
“Thank you for today,” she said politely as he turned to face her.
She held herself aloof, knowing she’d never experience another day like this one, and for that reason, she locked it away, determined to protect and cherish it. In the meantime, she wasn’t about to broadcast the fact that she wanted to crawl under the covers and, after pulling them over her head, cry for what her life never was and could never be.
CHAPTER 11
JOE had only been home a few minutes when he heard a knock on his door. He let out a groan and dragged a hand through his hair. He was sorely tempted to pretend he was in the shower or indisposed or that he’d gone to bed and hadn’t heard the summons. But if it was one of his nosy brothers they wouldn’t give up. He might as well put the hammer down now before things got out of hand.
He strode to the door, wishing he’d at least had time to shower. He looked ridiculous with his pants still rolled up and his boots shoved on sans socks. The ends of his jeans were still damp from his wading around picking out skipping stones with Zoe, and he knew whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn’t miss a single detail of his appearance.