Page 87 of The Devil's Scars

Chapter Sixteen

Two weeks later

Zoe glanced at her cell phone and smiled. Willa had just sent her a text, bursting with great news. She and Jimmy had finally stopped extending their seemingly-never-ending vacation in New Mexico, and had returned to Fargo to look for a place together. Zoe was thrilled for her friend, thrilled for Jimmy, and also thrilled that she could finally talk to Willa again, after more than two months of spotty cell reception, and being crazy busy traveling.

Oh, and of course, Zoe had had her own stuff going on. She’d been quite the drama queen for a while there. Thank God that was all over and done with.

She flipped to her cell phone book, and was just about to call Willa when that voice that she heard in her dreams drifted over her:

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Scars!”

He watched as her face lit up at the sight of him, and he smiled back, immediately and instantly happy. She flew into his arms, no hesitation or pause, and he closed her up, tight and close against him, a part of him still unable to believe that she gave herself so freely now. He was grateful every second of every day that she did – and he thought that he’d probably never stop seeing her trust and faith in him as a tiny miracle.

“How was your day, baby?”

“Busy but good.” She cuddled a bit closer, loving how safe and secure she felt right there. “Yours?”

“Great. Hired a new waitress for Satan’s, and I get the sense that she’ll give the boys and the regulars a run for their money.”

“Really?” Zoe said, putting her cell back in her purse, resolving to call Willa later. “What’s her name?”

“Sofia. With an ‘f’. She was really specific about that.”

Zoe giggled, and as always, he marveled at that sweet, girlish giggle coming from one of the most guarded women he’d ever known. It was a little glimpse into her softer, gentler side, the one that she allowed him to see more and more often.

“Sofia with an f, huh?” she said as they walked across the parking lot hand-in-hand. “I’ll remember that.”

“You’d better.” Scars opened the door of Satan’s for her, and they stepped into the raucous cacophony of music and voices. “I’m not totally sure that she could take you, baby, but I figure she’d make you work for victory.”

“Women’s mud wrestling fantasies again?” she teased him.

“Only if you’re one of the ladies in bikinis.” He looked hopeful. “Please?”

“Not a chance.”

“Awww.” Scars looked heartbroken. “Killing a man’s dream. Cruel and heartless.”

“You’ll live,” she said airily. “And I know how to make it up to you.”

Right away, he perked up. “Do tell…”

“How about I show instead, handsome?”

“The ‘show’ part of ‘show and tell’ is always better,” he agreed. “Go on, then.”

Just as he’d hoped that she would, she got up on her tiptoes, and lifted her face to his for a kiss. God, he loved this – loved the fact that every single time she did this exact thing, he was reminded of that first tippy-toe kiss, that first time he’d taken her as his own, that first time she’d shown that sweet, soft side of herself to him. Like light through water, like silken flame, she glowed and blazed, and he just sank down into the kiss, forgetting everything except her.

After a minute, maybe two, maybe a day, he raised his lips from hers, just a bit. She smiled at him, those emerald eyes hot with lust, and he smiled back.

“Back room later?” he whispered. “For old time’s sake?”

“Hell, yes,” she whispered back. “You want to see what’s under my jeans today, babe, and believe me, you don’t want to wait any longer than you have to.”

“You don’t say?” Scars kissed the top of her shining head, gave her a small hug. “You went shopping?”

“I did.”

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