Page 26 of The Moment They Can't Forget

“I never took you for a liar, Zoe. A few other things, but not that.”

“What other things?”

He just stared at her.

“You smell good, all right?” Zoe snapped.

“Thanks.” He leaned in and pressed his nose to the hollow at the base of her neck and sniffed. Every muscle in her body tensed having him this close again. “You smell good too.”

“Stop that. My brother is in the room next door.”

His smile held no humor. “To answer your question, animals, unlike humans, don’t ask endless questions, so yes, I like animals.” He was frowning now, and something was there in those dark eyes. Something off.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, and we don’t do that.” He didn’t move, just stood there looking big and pissed off, staring right back at her.

“That?”

“Give a shit about each other.”

He wasn’t wrong, but suddenly she wanted to know what was riding JD Hopper. What had ruined his day? Back away, Zoe, she thought. No good could come of finding this man any more intriguing.

“True, and you’re right.” She went to walk by him, and he grabbed her arm.

“Thanks for asking.”

She nodded, and he let her go. Only when she was a few paces away from him did Zoe exhale slowly.

The sound of the music for the grapevine twist filled the air.

“It reaches here?” She turned to look at JD, who was following. His eyes had been on her butt. Slowly, he raised them and showed no sign of guilt over checking her out.

“Tripp put in two more speakers—one for us, and the other for the Slatters and their clientele,” JD said.

“That man,” Zoe said, heading out the front doors to the street.

When the grapevine twist music was played in Lyntacky, everyone had to square dance. You never knew when it would happen or who you’d end up dancing with, but by a town ordinance, if you refused, you were locked up for a night in jail. Sawyer had tried to rebel once and paid the price. Uncle Asher had no qualms about locking up family, even if his sister, Zoe’s mom, was not happy with him.

She arrived outside the front door of The Gnat to find Mrs. C with foils in her hair standing to one side of the circle forming. She couldn’t dance with her leg in its moon boot but clearly still wanted to be part of it.

People in various states of beauty treatments were forming circles. Some were wearing robes or capes; others had something on their face.

“You’re all good, Mrs. C. Your color needs at least another twenty,” Jessie, The Gnat’s hairdresser, was saying to her.

“Shouldn’t there at least be exemptions for people who are working?” JD muttered, taking Zoe’s left hand. Her brother stomped outside, towing Birdie with him, and took her right.

“Now, JD, dancing is good for the soul,” Bart Matilda said, joining them in a pair of silky running shorts he pulled up way too high for Zoe’s liking.

“Whatever,” JD muttered.

“Seriously, who is Henry?” Sawyer asked. “You weren’t this grumpy when I arrived, but after that call you took with him, you’re feral.”

Zoe looked at JD but couldn’t read anything in his expression.

“Coming!”

This shout came from Cill, the massage therapist in The Gnat. Tall, thin, with skin the color of mocha, the woman looked as she always did, pretty and elegant, and no one would know she’d had child only a few months ago. With her was Delores Heckler, owner of the Rollaway, the bar in town. She wore a pale pink robe wrapped tight around her body, which crossed over her large fake breasts, and clearly no bra, as she’d been in the middle of treatment.

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