Page 41 of One Sweet Match Up

“Zoe, where are you going?” Donovan called out, the cold wind rushing through him. Once again, she was running away, this time down Sheila’s small hill leading to the gravel road.

Moments earlier, she’d snatched the pink hat Sheila offered and tore out of the house without a word.

Why was this woman always so desperate to flee the scene? Concerned and more than a bit annoyed, he trudged across Sheila’s lawn, his shoes sinking into the fresh snow. He wasn’t going to let Zoe attempt to walk back to town in a snowstorm in the pitch dark, which he suspected was what she set out to do. Nope. Not tonight. “Zoe! Stop!”

His demand worked, because she spun around, clutching the pink hat. “Why is this happening to me?” she shouted over the blustery wind, her bangs whipping across her face.

“I don’t know,” Donovan yelled back, catching up to her. The cold air stung his lungs. “But it’s not only you.” He touched the baseball cap now on his head. “This is mine.”

“Yeah, but Mary left me the purse and all that food.”

“And she leftmea notecard. Not you. It was addressed to me. The soup ladle was probably meant for me, too. It’s not just you Mary’s messing with.” He knew that now but refrained from telling her about the additional mystery items he’d found in the purse. She didn’t need to know about the soup seasoning, the eggs, the old penny, or the business cards. Heavenly Soups would stay between him, his sister, and Mary for now.

Zoe placed the pink hat on her head, pulling it over her ears. “Well, I’m not waiting around to see what’s next.” She sighed loudly. “If you could give me a lift back to my car, I would appreciate it.”

“Done.” He cracked a smile. Although, now that he was outside, he could tell that the steep hill would be too slippery to make it all the way down. There was no way they’d make it until a plow came through. “Actually, we’re not going to get far if we attempt the hill. Let me drive you to Rachel’s. My car should make it a half a mile. We’ll wait out the storm there.”

Zoe made no effort to move. “I’m not going to your house.”

Damn, this woman could be stubborn. “Good. I don’t have one. It’s Rachel’s.” He walked over to his car and opened up the passenger side, motioning with his head for her to get in.

Zoe parted her lips, and he fully expected her to argue about it for another minute, but she closed her mouth and proceeded to the car, sliding in.

Finally. She’d come to her senses. He moved to the driver’s side. He’d take her to Rachel’s and make them something warm for dinner.

Although he was still agitated with her, he couldn’t deny that the idea of making a meal for Zoe made his heart skip. Mother Nature was giving him another unexpected evening with the pretty blonde. Maybe this time he could prove to her he wasn’t the asshole that she seemed to think he was. He started the car and slowly backed out, inching toward his sister’s house.

“Thank you for giving me a place to stay,” she finally said.

“Don’t mention it. I promise I’ll drive you to your car as soon as the snow stops and this road is plowed.” No sooner did he say that then his front tire began to slide. He took his foot off the pedal, controlling the swerve.

The half a mile from Sheila’s to Rachel’s seemed like an eternity, but he finally turned into the driveway. The first thing he noticed was that Rachel wasn’t home. As soon as they got

inside, he’d send her a text and track her down.

Hopping out of the car, he turned back. Zoe took her time getting out and then leaned against the car.

Was she really deciding if she should go in? Man, was spending time with him all that bad? “I can promise you it’s a lot warmer inside.” He walked over and offered his hand, a little surprised when she took it, letting him lead her up the walkway. “Rachel’s not even here,” he said, unlocking the door and holding it for Zoe.

He quickly turned on the lights and moved the thermostat up. “First things first. Dinner.”

“I am a little hungry,” Zoe admitted, pulling off her hat and tucking it into her coat pocket.

“Let me just text my sister.” Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen. Not even a minute later, he had his answer. “Rachel’s at my parents’ place for the night. You’re safe,” he joked, motioning for her to join him in the kitchen.

“It’s not that I’m afraid of her.” Zoe followed him in and slid onto the kitchen barstool he offered, pulling off her coat. “Okay, maybe I am a little.”

“I can understand. She’s always been intense. I’m the carefree twin.” He smiled, feeling a little awkward when his joke was met with a blank stare. “Alrighty, then. First things first.” He grabbed a bottle of red wine from the rack on top of the refrigerator. In no time, he set on the kitchen island a full glass for Zoe.

“Thank you,” she said, giving it a swirl.

“Feels like déjà vu, doesn’t it?” He went for another joke.

“Very funny.” She sipped her wine, her eyelids closing for a long beat.

Donovan took that moment to sneak in her features. Small indented lines were evident on her forehead. Man, this day really had stressed her out.

Of course, it did. Getting a massive grocery delivery from a dead woman should not be part of anyone’s normal routine.

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