After that moment she gave up. It would take her a year to adjust.
Simon came sliding back. "Moe likes it up front, and Mr. Bigaloe's letting him stick his head out the window. And Mr. Bigaloe says I can touch anything, because I'm the boss. And I can have a soda from the ice place over there if you say so, 'cause you're the boss of me, and I can watch TV in the car. Can I?"
Zoe looked at his bright and dazzled face. On impulse, she caught that face in her hands, gave him a loud, smacking kiss on the mouth. "Yes, you can have a soda. Yes, you can watch TV in the car. And look, look up here. You can make the lights go on and off. And there's a telephone."
"Let's call somebody."
"You do it." She picked up the phone and offered it. "Call Mrs. Hanson. Won't she love that?" "Okay. I'm going to get a soda, and turn on the TV, and call her so I can tell her."
She giggled with him, and played with the controls, and drank a ginger ale just so she could say she had.
When they arrived at Brad's, she took Simon's hand before he could reach for the door handle. "Mr. Bigaloe's supposed to come around and open it," she whispered. "That's part of his job."
"Okay." When the door opened, Simon popped out and looked up at Bigaloe. "That was really good. Thanks for driving us."
"It was a pleasure."
"I guess you could tell it was our first time in a limo," Zoe said when he helped her out.
"I don't know when I've enjoyed driving anyone quite so much. I'll look forward to taking you home when you're ready."
"Thank you."
"Wait until I tell the guys." Simon grabbed the leash and let Moe pull him to the door. "They're not going to believe it."
Before Zoe could tell him to knock, he was pushing the door open and shouting for Brad. "Brad! We watched TV in the car and called Mrs. Hanson and had sodas. And Moe rode up front."
"Sounds like a busy ride."
"Simon, you're supposed to knock. Moe!"
The dog had already made a dash for the great room and the sofa.
"He's all right," Brad told her as Moe leaped on the cushions and stretched out like a furry sultan. "We're getting used to him around here."
"We brought you a present." Dancing in place, Simon thrust the box into Brad's hands. "Mom and I made it."
"Yeah? Let's go back to the kitchen and open it up. Just let me get your coats first."
"I can do it. I know where they go." Simon yanked off his jacket and bounced on his toes until Zoe handed him hers. "Don't open it until I'm there."
"Okay."
"I want to thank you for sending the car," Zoe began as they started toward the kitchen. "Simon's never going to forget it. It was a big thrill for him."
"Did you enjoy the ride?"
"Are you kidding?" She let out a laugh that was still tinged with wonder. "It was like being a princess for twenty minutes. Except we played with all the buttons and the television, so I guess it was more like being a kid for twenty minutes. But you didn't have to do something like that, go to all that trouble."
"It wasn't any trouble. I wanted to do it. I knew Simon would get a kick out of it, and I didn't want to worry about you driving home in the dark. And," he added as he pulled a bottle out of a silver bucket, "I wanted you to be able to relax and enjoy this really nice champagne."
"Oh. Even without the note you sent it would be hard to argue about all that."
"Good." He released the cork with a cheerful little pop and was pouring the second flute when Simon ran in with Moe behind him.
"You gotta open the present now. It's a homewarmer present."
"Housewarming," Zoe corrected, and hooked her arm, the way she often did, around Simon's shoulder. "A belated one, to welcome you back to the Valley."
"Let's see what we've got." He undid the bow, feeling a bit foolish, since he already knew he would save the lacy white ribbon and the little spray of tiny red flowers she'd tucked into it. She'd stamped or stenciled silhouettes of those flowers on the simple brown box, and had nestled the gift inside on a bed of white tissue sprinkled with glitter.
"You sure know how to wrap a present."
"If you're going to give somebody a gift, you should take the time to make it nice."
He took out the tri-colored candle in a squat, clear jar. "It's great." He sniffed. "Smells terrific. You made this?"
"We like to make stuff, right, Mom? See you have to melt the wax and then add the smelly stuff and junk. I picked out the smells."
"For the holidays," Zoe explained. "The top layer's apple pie and the middle's cranberry, with Christmas tree at the bottom. There's a tile in there to set it on. The bottom of the jar gets hot."
He took out the white tile with cranberries painted on each corner.
"Mom painted the berries, and I put the glaze stuff on."
"It's terrific." He set the tile on the counter and the candle on top. Then bent down to hug Simon. When he straightened, he grinned at the boy. "You may want to look away."
"How come?"
"I'm going to kiss your mother."
"Gack." Though Simon covered his face with his hands, there was a warmth in his belly.
"Thank you." Brad laid a light kiss on Zoe's lips. "All clear, kid."
"Are you going to light the present?" Simon demanded.
"I am." Brad took a long, slim tool out of a drawer and lit the wick. "Looks great. Where did you learn to make candles?"
"Just something I picked up. I've been experimenting. I'm hoping to get good enough to carry a line of candles and potpourri and that kind of thing in the salon."
"I would carry something like that at HomeMakers."
Zoe stared at her candle. "You would?"
"We'll be stocking a lot more items like decorative candles after the expansion. You'll have to show me some of the others you've done, and we'll talk."
"Is it okay if I go in the game room?" Simon asked. "I brought back Smackdown, so we can have our rematch."
"Sure. There's another game loaded. You can switch it."
"Are you going to come play now?"
"I've got to start putting dinner together, but you can go work up an appetite. I want you hungry. I had the frog legs flown in special."
"Uh-uh."
"Giant frog legs. From Africa."
"No way."
"Or we can just have steak."
"Frog steak!"
"Naturally." On a mock scream, Simon tore out of the room.
"You're awfully good with him," Zoe said.
"He makes it easy. Why don't you sit down and—" He broke off when Simon's shouted "Holy cow!" burst out of the game room. "He found the new game."
"Bradley."
"Hmm?"
"I have to ask you for a promise. Don't say all right yet," she cautioned, turning her glass round and round by the stem as she studied his face. "It's important, and if you take the time to think about it first, I'll believe you'll keep your word."
"What do you want me to promise, Zoe?"
"Simon—he's so attached to you. He's never had… somebody like you pay attention to him, not this way. It's getting so he's depending on you paying that attention. I need you to promise that whatever happens with us, whatever way it turns out, you won't forget him. I'm not talking about riding in limos. I'm asking you to promise that you won't stop being a friend to him."
"He's not the only one who's attached, Zoe. I can make you that promise." He offered his hand. "You've got my word."
She took his hand, squeezed it as the tension that had built inside her while she made her request dissolved again. "All right. Well." She looked around the kitchen. "What can I do?"
"You can sit down and drink your champagne."
"I ought to be able to help with those African frog legs."
He cupped the back of her neck with his hand, kissed her, not quite so lightly, not quite so casually as he had when Simon had been in the room. "Sit down, and drink your champagne," he said again, flicking a finger at her earlobe. "Nice earrings."
She gave a quick, baffled laugh. "Thanks." Though she still felt as if she should be helping, she perched on a stool at the bar. "Are you really going to cook?"
"I'm going to grill, which is entirely different. All the Vane men grill. If they didn't they'd be drummed out of the family."
"You're going to grill? In November?"
"We Vanes grill year-round, even if we have to chip through the ice, brave blizzards, risk frostbite. However, it happens I have this very handy deal right here on the range."
"I've seen those in magazines." She watched him fire up the built-in grill on the stovetop. "And on TV, on some of the cooking shows."
He tucked potatoes already wrapped in foil around the flame. "Just don't tell my father I used this instead of standing outside like a man."
"Lips are sealed." She sipped champagne while he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "You made these?"
He considered for a moment as he set the platter on the counter in front of her. "I could lie and really impress you, but instead I'll dazzle you with my honesty. They're from Luciano's, and so's the chocolate bomb for dessert, and the lobster tails."
"Lobster tails? Luciano's?" She selected one of the canapйs, slipped it between her lips, and moaned as the flavors melted on her tongue.
"Good?"
"Amazing. It's all amazing. I'm trying to figure out how Zoe McCourt came to be sitting here drinking champagne and eating canapйs from Luciano's. It doesn't seem real. You are trying to dazzle me, Bradley. And it's working."
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