Wrapped in You (26 page)

“I'd find another way to hurt you,” Braxton vowed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Even with his professor glasses on, Braxton was still a badass who rarely showed his anger. Apparently he saved it for Zach.

“We have work to do here,” Zach stated, closing the folder. “If you want to bitch at me, do it while putting up new Sheetrock in the kitchen.”

Braxton narrowed his dark eyes. “Are you seriously going to stay here and work, knowing Sophie is home crying? Are you that heartless?”

Zach shoved his brother aside. “I'm not heartless. I can't be with her. Drop it.”

Zach headed into the kitchen. Liam was taking a drink, Brock was trying not to look at anyone, and Zach focused on the wall that needed new Sheetrock. Holes for three outlets and one light switch would need to be cut.

“You're such an asshole.” Braxton pushed Zach from behind. “You left Sophie when things got complicated because you're afraid.”

Zach whirled around, slapped the folder onto the island, and clenched his fists.

“Easy there,” Liam demanded. “No fighting.”

“Since when are you the mediator?” Zach called over his shoulder. “You guys don't get it. You have no idea—”

“I know her parents came by and you freaked out,” Braxton interrupted. “Sophie told me everything, which only makes you more of a prick.”

Zach sighed. “You know what? You all can work. I'm taking a break.”

“Better cool down if you're going to see Sophie,” Liam stated.

Zach flipped him a finger before storming out the back door. Damn his family for being so . . . concerned. He didn't want concern, he wanted . . .

At this point Zach didn't know what he wanted. If anything was possible in the do-over category, he'd take the night of the accident. Hindsight always proved what a selfish idiot he'd been.

He got in his truck and headed home to let the dogs out, feed them, play with them. Spending a few minutes around something that actually enjoyed his company was what he needed, because he was trying like hell not to go to Sophie's house and beg her not to shut him completely out. But that wasn't fair to either of them. She needed to move on, though the idea killed him, but in the long run she'd be okay and she'd find love with a man who would . . .

Zach slammed his palm on the steering wheel. He didn't even want to think in those terms. Brock's words kept playing over in his mind. Could it be that easy to take Sophie's love? Could she truly love him as much as she said she did? He'd taken everything from her, yet she claimed none of it mattered now.

Could she be that forgiving? She'd forgiven him when he'd clearly never forgiven himself. But he'd walked out on her yesterday. Walked out when she likely needed him most.

Yeah, he had decisions to make and a comfort zone to step out of. He could live his life,
his
life, and take control, or he could watch the woman he loved move on without him.

The choice was clear. She may have told him never to come back into her life, but that wasn't going to stop him from staking his claim. Sophie had fought for them long enough. Now it was his turn.

Sophie gave her assistant several errands to run, then told her to take the rest of the day off. Basically, Sophie just wanted to close herself in her office, turn the CLOSED sign around, and hide. She could still answer e-mails and phone calls, but right now she wasn't in the mood for much of anything.

Nearly a week had passed since she'd seen Zach. Six days, to be exact. She'd told him not to come back into her life, but she thought he might at least try something. . . anything.

Sophie pulled up her e-mails, but her focus drifted to the pencil drawing on the far wall in her office: the row of connected buildings, her office tucked right in the midst of them all. She'd done this drawing the day she'd bought the building for her office . . . nearly four years after the accident.

What started out as therapy had definitely become a passion, but she was having the hardest time trying to come up with more sketches for the Sunset Lake house. Each time she sat down to draw, she thought of Zach, of the diligent way he was pushing forward with this project. Even after all he'd done, and not done, she admired him for honoring Chelsea's memory.

She would fulfill her promise in spite of Zach and his stubborn ways. She would finish the sketches, she would get them to one of his brothers, and she would promote the hell out of this new business when the time came. And she'd do it all because no matter the end result, Sophie loved Zach's family.

The main door chimed and Sophie sat straight up. Time to put on the professional smile . . . she should've just turned the CLOSED sign around like she'd wanted to.

Before she could get to her feet, her office door opened.

“I was hoping I'd find you here.”

A sliver of disappointment settled in as Sophie stared across the room at her mother. She'd not seen her parents since the bomb that had been dropped on Zach.

“Can I come in?”

Sophie gestured to the chair opposite her desk. Easing back, she waited for her mom to have a seat. Hopefully this would be a peaceful visit because Sophie wasn't in the mood, nor did she have the energy to get into it with her mother.

“You've not returned my calls,” her mother stated, crossing her legs like the proper lady she was. “I know you're angry, but I never thought you'd shut me out.”

“I never thought you'd purposely try to ruin my life.” Sophie sighed and shook her head. She didn't want to become that bitter person who blamed everyone else for their own actions. Sophie was the one who'd chosen not to reveal the truth about her infertility. “That was harsh. I'm sorry, but you have to know what you did is hard to forgive.”

“What I know is that I wanted to surprise my daughter, and when I came into the house and saw a man who nearly killed her standing there half naked, my motherly instincts went on high alert.” She leaned forward in her seat just enough to rest her arm on the desk and meet Sophie's gaze. “What were you thinking, Sophie? I'm truly trying to understand this. I know you're an adult, but that doesn't stop me from worrying.”

In her mother's own way, she loved Sophie. That much was apparent, but there was a point where the woman had to let go of control and relax.

“I'm assuming you're not getting back together with Martin?”

Sophie shook her head. “I don't love him.”

Her mother stared for a moment before nodding and easing back into her seat. “And you love Zach.”

Tears threatened to prick her eyes, but Sophie willed them away. She thought she'd dried up at this point and she'd promised herself she wouldn't break down again.

“Honey, he's only going to hurt you.”

Sophie laughed. “Yeah, well, I think we've hurt each other. That doesn't stop how I feel.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

Shrugging, Sophie tipped her head back against the chair and prayed for divine intervention. There had to be an answer, there had to be some way to make this pain less crippling and actually move on without feeling like she was moving through wet concrete.

“I'll get through this and so will Zach,” she answered honestly. She wasn't mentioning her thoughts on moving. Her mother didn't need to know that little nugget of information. “I'm—”

The door to the main office chimed once again. Sophie's mom came to her feet. “I won't keep you,” she said, smoothing her hands down her crisp khaki pants. “Would it be okay if your father and I stop by later?”

Sophie pushed away from her desk and stood, crossing to the doorway. “How about I call when I get off work and we can go out to dinner or something?”

“I'd like that.”

Sophie's office door flung open, causing her to jump back. “Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were alone.”

“Brock?” Sophie took in the sight of the boy. Fresh new T-shirt, jeans that fit, without the threads unraveling, and shiny new shoes. This was the work of the Monroes. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

His eyes darted over Sophie's shoulder, then back. “Uh . . . yeah. I just . . .”

“Oh, sorry. Brock, this is my mother, Catherine Allen.” Sophie gestured behind her. “Mom, this is Brock. He's been working with Zach.”

Her mother smiled. “Pleasure to meet you. I'll just let you two talk.”

“Nice to meet you, ma'am.”

Once Sophie's mom stepped out, Brock held up a folder Sophie hadn't noticed he'd been holding. “These are for you.”

Confused, she took the folder and opened it. She flipped through the familiar images, then looked back to Brock.

“What are these for?” she asked, closing the folder. “I gave them to Braxton last Sunday.”

“Yeah, he gave them to Zach, but Zach said he doesn't want them unless you deliver them.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “He said that, did he?” What kind of game was he playing? Did he honestly think she could face him right now? Did he truly want her to?

Sophie crossed her office, laid the folder on her desk, and turned back to Brock. She crossed her arms and leaned against her desk as she eyed the boy, who still stood by the door.

“What's really going on?” she asked. “Why are you here and why did Zach really send those back?”

“I just told you. He said he'd take them, but only from you.”

Sophie continued to study him. The bruises had faded, revealing an adorable young man who might just have a promising future. She knew the guys were taking him to court this Monday, and Liam had called to tell her the judge had agreed to let Zach have emergency custody, provided Social Services found nothing in their home inspection and investigation.

“Are you staying with Zach now?” she asked.

Brock nodded. “We've been working on the house. You should come see it.”

“I'm not sure I'm ready for that.” Sophie still wanted to know what part Brock was playing in all of this. Zach wasn't one to play games. “Who brought you here?”

“Zach.”

Sophie straightened. “Is he waiting in the car?” Was he afraid to come in? What on earth was going on?

“No, he ran to Knobs and Knockers. He said he'd be back out front in ten minutes.”

“Am I supposed to deliver this folder then?”

Brock shrugged. “He didn't tell me that.”

Sophie couldn't help but laugh . . . she was either going to laugh or cry, because she was so confused right now she didn't even know what to feel.

“You can wait in the lobby for Zach, and when he gets here, you tell him he'll get his sketches when I'm ready to give them back.”

Brock's eyes widened. “He won't like that. I think he was hoping for today.”

“Was he now?” And why was that? Did he have something planned? She knew for a fact they weren't near ready to hang the sketches, and she still had more to work on. “He'll have to get over it.”

“How long are you guys going to fight?” Brock asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at his new shoes. “Sorry. That's not my business. It's just, you look like you've been crying, Braxton is mad at Zach, and Zach hates the world right now. Liam went back to Savannah, but he was pissed at Zach when he left, too.”

“I haven't cried for a few hours, actually. I just didn't bother with much makeup today. As for the rest of it, sounds pretty normal for the Monroe boys.”

“Are you really planning on moving?” he asked. He stared at her as if he were afraid of the answer.

Sophie tipped her head and weighed her answer, editing it in her own mind. “It's been a thought. But I've not decided anything. Why? Who told you I was?”

“Braxton mentioned it to Zach the other day and then they were trying hard not to hit each other.”

Sophie was impressed they'd had any self-control. They really cared about Brock, to keep their fists to themselves.

Brock turned to head out the door. “I'll go wait on Zach and I'll give him your message.”

Sophie crossed the room. “I'm glad you stopped by, even if you were playing the middleman. You look great.”

A smile tipped Brock's lips. “Thanks. It's been a good week, all things considered. And Zach might even let me keep one of the puppies.”

“Just one?” Sophie quirked a brow.

Brock laughed. “I'm still working on the others. He talks to them like babies. He's pretty ridiculous. I don't think when the time comes he'll be able to get rid of them.”

Sophie knew he wouldn't. She'd seen how he cared for the dogs, even if he pretended to still be a badass. He bottle fed one, had kept vigil during the night of the birth like some nervous father, and he was talking to them like children. The man had seriously grown attached to those pups.

“I better go wait on him,” Brock stated. “You promise you'll bring those back. Right?”

“Promise,” she said with a smile. She didn't have to say when.

Once Brock was gone, she waited another twenty minutes before she went to turn her sign to CLOSED. She was done with this day. She sank back into her office chair and flipped the folder open once more.

Flipping through each sketch, she froze when she found an extra paper at the end. Another drawing. It was terrible, but she couldn't take her eyes off of it.

It was a drawing of Zach's house with a man and a woman in the front yard. Stick people, actually, but one of them had on a triangle “dress” and there was another boy off to the side.

At the bottom, in Zach's scratchy handwriting, it said:
WHAT FAMILY LOOKS LIKE TO ME.

Did he mean . . . no. He couldn't mean this would be them and Brock. He'd said he'd never marry, he'd never have a family, and Brock wasn't “his” technically.

Sophie stared at the image until the lines blurred and a teardrop landed on the paper, smearing the F in family.

That man was so infuriating and confusing all at the same time. Now she had to go to him and see what he wanted, what he meant behind this drawing, because she truly had no idea.

She'd told him he wasn't welcome in her life anymore if he walked out, and at the time she meant it. But now, yeah, she didn't think she could turn him away if he wanted back in.

That didn't mean she had to make it easy for him, though.

* * *

Zach finished putting the last bit of grout over the new tile in the main bathroom. He'd wanted to be alone, so when Braxton had finished up with his classes for the day, he'd come by and taken Brock to dinner.

Honestly, Zach didn't know what was worse, being alone with his thoughts or being with his brother, who was still pissed.

When he'd picked Brock up from Sophie's office earlier, Brock seemed both amused and confused. He was smiling, but then said Sophie would bring the sketches when she wanted.

Had she not looked through them? Did she even get what his pathetic attempt at art had meant? He deserved to suffer for how he'd treated her, how he'd walked away again, but was she going to give him anything to go on?

He'd obeyed her wishes and kept his distance. Using Brock as a middleman hadn't been his first choice, but Zach was desperate and he wasn't about to just let the love of his life go without a fight.

Sophie was too kind, too sweet to totally ignore him. But she had told him he wasn't welcome back into her life if he left. Would she hold on to those words? Would she protect her heart even more now?

Pushing up off the hard floor, Zach stretched and twisted until his back popped. Just as he reached down to get his tray of grout, a spider the equivalent of his size-thirteen work boots scurried by. Damn pests nearly gave him a heart attack every time.

He stomped on the bug with more force than necessary, but he really wasn't taking any chances. Anything with eight legs that could move that fast could not be trusted.

The front door opened and closed before Zach could grab the empty tray or take off his knee pads. He moved down the wide hallway toward the foyer and froze.

Sophie stood in the middle of a dirty, dusty construction zone wearing a spotless yellow dress with little brown sandals. Her hair was down and straight, not a curl in sight, and her face was completely devoid of makeup. She looked as tired as he felt, but she was the most gorgeous sight he'd seen since he left her place last weekend.

His eyes darted down to the folder in her hand. There was no doubt now as to whether or not she'd seen his picture.

“Here are the sketches.” Sophie extended the envelope but moved no closer.

Slowly, Zach crossed the open space and took the folder.