6. Miles

6

MILES

If someone had asked what I expected to find when I met Zoe James, I have no idea what my answer would have been. But I did know the woman standing in front of me was not it. This woman was mesmerizing, intoxicating, and captivating. I spent my life around the most beautiful women in the world, and not one of them held a candle to the one I was looking at.

Her natural beauty was part of it. Sure. She had large, emerald green eyes with flecks of gold swimming in them, flawless sun-kissed skin, full lips, and long, thick chestnut brown hair, which combined, gave her a rare girl-next-door with exotic flair appeal. Her thin, worn Atlanta Braves T-shirt and sweatpants did not hide her petite curves; that would tempt a saint to sin.

But there was more to her than just her physical appearance. When we'd briefly shook hands, it had knocked the wind out of me. The contact sent a surge rushing through me like the waters of the rapids, and I'd had to lock my knees to withstand them. I knew she felt it too because she snatched her hand away so fast that I'd barely even registered we'd touched before the handshake was over. My body knew we had, though. My palm still tingled where we'd been skin to skin.

I knew for certain that I'd never met Zoe before or even seen her picture, but there was something so familiar about her. Familiar and exciting. I couldn't explain why I was so drawn to her.

The feelings coursing through me as I waited for Zoe to come back with a verdict of whether or not I could stay for dinner, however, were foreign. It took me a second to recognize them as nerves because it had been so long since I'd felt them. I was nervous. Anxious. Out of my depth.

"Mom," AJ mumbled under his breath as I scratched Daisy behind the ears to try and ground myself in the moment, so I didn't make a complete ass of myself. She was the dog I'd seen in the profile pic.

"What?"

"Can Mr. Ford stay for dinner?"

"Please, call me Miles," I said to both AJ and Zoe.

I knew that it was a sign of respect and formality, but it made me uncomfortable. Especially since the only Mr. Ford I knew was my grandfather, and he was an abusive alcoholic.

"Oh, um, fine, yes."

"Are you sure?" I tilted my head to the side. "I don't want to impose."

Zoe's stare leveled me. She didn't say a word, but I read between the lines of her silence. She was making it clear that my showing up on her doorstep was, in and of itself, an imposition.

Although she may have felt the same physical reaction I'd had to her, my reception otherwise was less than friendly. I'd describe it as downright icy. She hadn't spoken to me for the first thirty seconds she'd opened the door. Not until AJ pushed the issue to make her say hi and even acknowledge my presence.

It had been a long time since I'd shown up anywhere, and people hadn't been happy, or at the very least, neutral about me being there. I'd always considered myself fairly likable, but it was clear Zoe James did not share that opinion. It was oddly refreshing.

"It's fine." She inhaled as a forced smile appeared on her face. "Come on in."

"This is so dope!" AJ whisper-shouted as he ran back into the house. "I'll get a plate!"

Zoe took a step back and stood to the side holding the door. As I passed her, a faint scent of lavender and fresh laundry drifted through the air. It was barely there, but I leaned forward, wanting to inhale the clean, floral aroma that was, in a word, feminine. It was pure.

When she shut the door and brushed past me to follow in the direction her son had just gone, a few soft strands of her long hair brushed against my arm, and it was there again. This time, the flowery scent was even stronger. I had the very inappropriate urge to run my fingers through her hair and bury my face in her neck.

"Papa, look who's here!" AJ called out as we all walked through the kitchen into the dining area, Daisy trotting along happily beside us.

"Huh, what?" A man with a full head of white hair seated at a table with a half-eaten chicken breast in his hand asked.

I recognized him before being introduced. I'd had Braxton do some background checks before arriving in Firefly. Walter Edward James, age eighty-eight. He joined the Army at age eighteen and married his high school sweetheart Clara when she graduated two years later. Clara was a nurse, and Walter worked in construction. They waited to have children until their thirties. Their firstborn was a son named Walter Jr., and four years later, a daughter, Claire. Walter Jr. was killed tragically in a car accident when he was twenty. That same year, Clara was diagnosed with cancer. She passed six months later.

Claire graduated high school and headed off to college. She came home before her freshman year was over, pregnant with Austin. From what Braxton learned and Austin's squad had told me, she was around the first few years of Austin's life, but then, when he was three, she moved to Florida. As far as I knew, she hadn't been in contact with him after that.

"Walter, this is Miles Ford. Mr. Ford, this is AJ's grandfather, Walter James." Zoe made the introduction.

"Please, call me Miles," I said for the second time. I had a feeling Zoe was only calling me by my surname to demonstrate that we were not friends, and this was not a friendly visit. It was a way to keep me at arm's length. Either that or she didn't hear me the first time, which I doubted. I turned my attention to Mr. James. "Mr. James, it's so nice to meet you."

"Oh, well, you too." Mr. James struggled to stand, and Zoe walked to his side and assisted him. Once he was on his feet, he held out his hand. For a man who'd just had trouble standing, his handshake was firm as a rock. "Call me Walter. Mr. James was my father, and he was a mean S.O.B."

"Yes, sir."

"So, I hear you're gonna be playing the role of my grandson in the picture they're makin'."

Beside me, I felt Zoe's energy shift. Her entire body seized with tension.

"That's the plan if everything works out."

"Well, I hope you know what you're doin'. He was a special boy, and it would take someone real special to fill his shoes."

"I don't plan on filling his shoes. I don't think anyone can do that. All I want to do is tell his story. And the best chance I have of doing a good job at that is learning everything I can about him. Which is why I'd love to hear anything you would be willing to share."

"Well, if stories is whatcher after, you came to the right place. I got plenty of 'em. That boy was always getting into mischief. He was only two when?—"

"Why don't we sit down to eat," Zoe interjected.

"Well, then take a seat," Walter motioned to a seat across from AJ.

The tiny hairs on my arms stood on end as I lowered down beside Zoe at the dinner table. My heart was racing, and beads of sweat were forming at the base of my neck. Just being near her was causing me to have a physical reaction. This woman was affecting me in ways that were not appropriate, considering the circumstances.

I tried to get myself under control as I glanced around the table. Walter and Zoe were opposite each other, and so were AJ and me.

"That was my dad's chair." AJ pointed out excitedly.

My eyes shot to Zoe, and I automatically started to stand, feeling like I'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry?—"

"It's fine." She assured me. "Sit. Eat."

"Zoe made my favorite." Walter held up his half-eaten piece of chicken. "Fried chicken, green beans, and her famous macaroni and cheese."

"It's not famous," Zoe quickly corrected.

"Yes, it is!" AJ argued.

"It's not," Zoe stated firmly.

"You won awards," AJ contended. "That makes it famous."

"It was just the county fair," Zoe explained with a heavy sigh.

"She won the blue ribbon four years in a row." Walter beamed with pride.

"Well, I can't wait to try it." I scooped a heaping serving onto my plate, along with chicken and green beans.

Zoe stood, and I did as well, out of habit.

"I was just…" Zoe shook her head slightly. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water's fine."

AJ made a scrunched-up face. "Water?"

"What? I like water. It's good for you."

Zoe came back with a glass of water as Walter was telling me stories about Austin as a kid. He sounded like a handful. He liked to play pranks and got in his fair bit of trouble. Some were fairly innocent, but there were more serious incidents, like driving a tractor into one of the canals and getting it stuck when he was eight and herding fifty cows into the downtown area when he was ten.

"But all that stopped when he met his Zoe." A sad smile pulled on Walter's face. "All that energy he spent on gettin' in trouble, he just transferred it all into his love for her. I thought I'd be bailin' him out of jail before he could drive, but she got him on the straight and narrow. Once he met her, that's all he cared about."

"Tell him about the honey, Mom."

"I don't…it doesn't…" She shook her head.

"That's how my dad asked my mom to be his girlfriend. He made her a pot of honey." AJ took a big bite of macaroni and cheese.

"He made it?" I repeated, sure that AJ must be mistaken.

Zoe sighed. "The summer before my sixth-grade year and Austin's eighth, I volunteered for a reading program in the library where I read to four and five-year-olds. He was there doing community service because he'd egged the library."

"Told you, he was a rascal," Walter chimed in.

"Anyway, I guess he saw me reading to the kids and heard me telling them that Winnie the Pooh was my favorite book. How much I loved it, that I had all the stuffed animals, and I'd always wanted a pot of my own honey. So, I guess…well, Walter you can tell this part."

"So now that was in June," Walter continued. "He came home that day sayin' he needed to get him some bees to make honey. Now, it just so happens that Lincoln Rooney, who I served with, is a beekeeper. He's got him a whole farm up near Charleston in South Carolina. An apiary, he calls it. Anyhow, I called him up and told him what the boy was talking about, and I drove him on up there. Figured it might keep him outta trouble here. Austin worked there for six weeks that summer to get that jar of honey; got stung somethin' awful."

"I didn't know anything about this." Zoe smiled as she shook her head. "Since he was older than me, I'd always known him, but he hadn't known me. I had a crush on him, but I guess he didn't know I existed until that day in the library. So, the first day of school, I show up and am walking down the halls, and Austin James, an eighth grader, comes up to me with a pot of honey, and he said that I was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen, so he had to get me the sweetest thing he could think of. I thought it was a joke or one of his pranks, but it wasn't. He really liked me. He asked me to be his girlfriend a week later, and the rest is…" Her voice trailed off, and tears pooled in her eyes. She wiped them away. "Well, you know the rest."

Walter and AJ continued telling stories about Austin all through dinner. Walter's were firsthand. AJ's were ones that he'd heard from the men he called uncles, Harlan Mitchell and Jack Dawson. Zoe didn't say another word.

We didn't only discuss Austin. I learned that AJ was dyslexic, something that he and I shared in common. We talked about how frustrating school was and how much of a relief it was to find out there was a reason behind our behavior. I also learned that Walter's daughter, Austin's mom, never returned after abandoning Austin, and Walter learned she passed away a few years after Austin did.

Once dinner was over, AJ went upstairs to finish his homework, but on the down-low, he told me he was going to play video games, and Walter retired to his room.

"You really don't have to do this," Zoe said for about the sixth time as I rinsed off a plate in the sink.

I'd insisted on helping clean up despite the fact that I was pretty sure I was overstaying my welcome. I couldn't help it. I just didn't want to leave. Tonight was the first time in a long time I could remember feeling…anything.

"You cooked. You shouldn't have to clean, too."

She let out a forced laugh. "Says who?"

I glanced at her over my shoulder. "Me."

She sucked in a shaky breath as a flush rose on her cheeks. I turned back around, liking the fact that I'd been the one to put color in her face.

I heard her behind me wrapping up food. "So, did you have a big family growing up?"

"No. It was just me and my mom."

"Oh."

"What about you? Did you have a big family?"

"Just me and my parents."

"So, we're both only children."

"Yep."

There was a beat of silence as I rinsed out the dish the macaroni and cheese had been in. "The dinner was really delicious," I told her again.

"Thanks. Did your mom teach you to cook? When you were growing up?"

Now, it was my turn to laugh. "No. She wasn't very domestic. I did the cooking and cleaning in our house."

"Who taught you?"

I shrugged as I rinsed off the serving dish the green beans had been in. "I learned different things from different people. I had a tutor on set that taught me the basics of cooking, how to defrost things, and what the ideal cooking temperatures were for cooking different foods. Then, on the first sitcom I booked, there was a wardrobe assistant who noticed that I was coming to set with dirty clothes. She gave me a crash course in laundry. I was six. I had a costar on Happy Trails who taught me how to drive and change a tire. He was sort of a father figure to me. There were people like that who I picked things up from and other things I figured out myself."

There was silence behind me. I wanted to glance back and see what Zoe's reaction was. I never talked about my childhood. Not in interviews. Not in my personal life. Not ever. Not even with Braxton, who was the closest person to me.

My manager, Marla, who had discovered me, had a pretty good idea of what I'd gone through because of things she'd witnessed, but we'd never talked about it.

"What was your mom doing when you were figuring things out?"

"She was young when she had me, so she was dating and partying a lot."

"How young was she?" Zoe's voice was soft and nonjudgmental.

"Sixteen."

I realized, as I said it, that Zoe was the same age when she had AJ. I wasn't sure why I hadn't put that together before now. My dad hadn't stuck around like Austin had, though. And my mom didn't have a place to live like this house. She'd had to stay in her childhood home with her alcoholic and abusive father. I wasn't making excuses for her, but there were reasons why people ended up the way they did.

After setting the final glass in the dishwasher, I shut the water off and turned around. "I'm sorry for just showing up on your doorstep like that."

Her head tilted to the side. "Are you?"

My lips curled in a half-grin. "Well, not really. I can't remember the last time I've enjoyed an evening this much."

Her head fell back, and she laughed.

"I'm serious," I maintained.

She lifted her head back up, and when her eyes met mine, she was looking at me like I had an extra head growing out of my neck. "I just saw you walking a red carpet. You dated a Victoria's Secret model."

Had I? I couldn't remember.

"None of that is real," I explained as I took a step toward her. She tilted her chin up, and her eyes lifted beneath dark, inky lashes. "Tonight, really was the best night I've had in as long as I can remember. Thank you for sharing your family with me."

Her breath caught, and her lips parted slightly. The air between us was crackling with intensity.

Earlier in the night, I'd had the urge to run my fingers through her hair. Well, the urge I had now was telling that urge to hold its beer. I wanted to lean down, and kiss Zoe more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

My eyes flickered down to her lips, and I noticed that she had a piece of green bean in the corner of her mouth. "You have a little." I lifted my hand to my mouth.

"What?" She mirrored my gesture but missed the scrap of food. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's." I tried to show her on my face again.

She moved her hand closer to it but still didn't manage to wipe it off.

"Can I?" I asked.

Her eyes widened slightly as her chin dipped in a nod.

My pulse rate doubled during the .05 second time it took for my hand to touch her face. I slid the pad of my thumb across the corner of her mouth. As I did, her lids closed, and her lips parted slightly.

The sound of galloping horses snapped me out of the trance I'd fallen under. I took a step back and realized I'd been leaning my head closer to hers as AJ came flying down the stairs.

"Oh good! You're still here! Can we take a selfie?" he asked as he rushed into the kitchen.

"AJ," Zoe said his name in a warning, looking almost embarrassed that her son had made that request.

"Of course." I smiled.

I took his phone and snapped several photos before wishing them both goodnight and leaving.

As I walked to the car, I told myself that if AJ hadn't come down the stairs, there was no way I would have crossed the line with Zoe James. That would be totally inappropriate and probably unethical. I wanted to believe myself…. I just wasn't sure I did.