Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(57)

“You’re a very loving person,” Zoë had protested.

“To friends and family, yes. But I can’t love someone in the romantic way you’re talking about.”

“But you have sex,” Zoë had said, bemused.

“Well, sure. People can have sex without love, you know.”

“Someday,” Zoë had said wistfully, “it would be nice to try both at the same time.”

More labeled boxes were brought in, including those containing Emma’s belongings. After Alex and Duane had left to get the furniture out of storage, Justine and Zoë unpacked shoes and handbags. They put them away on the shoe racks and shelves in the closet of the main bedroom. “I don’t remember all these built-ins being listed on the invoice,” Justine said. “It looks like Alex has been doing some extra work around here. Have you paid him on the side?”

“No, he did it without even asking,” Zoë said. “He really wants to make the house comfortable for Emma.”

Justine’s mouth twisted with wry amusement. “I don’t think Emma was the one he did it for. Is there something going on between you and the human iceberg?”

“No, nothing at all,” Zoë said emphatically.

Justine’s brows lifted. “I would have believed you if you said ‘a little flirtation here and there,’ or ‘we’ve gotten to be friends.’ But ‘nothing at all’ … nope, I’m not buying it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is noticing.”

“What way?”

“Like he’s a starving climber who’s just been rescued after three days with no supplies, and you’re a Cinnabon.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zoë said.

“Okay.” Justine continued lining up shoes.

After a moment, Zoë burst out, “It’s not going to go beyond kissing. He’s made that clear.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because you already know my opinion.” Justine began to open another box.

“He’s a better man than you think he is,” Zoë couldn’t resist saying. “He’s a better man than he thinks he is.”

“Don’t do it, Zoë.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re thinking about doing it, and you’re trying to find all kinds of ways to justify it because of your attraction to emotionally unavailable men.”

“The other day,” Zoë retorted, “you told me that you were emotionally unavailable to men. Does that mean no one should have sex with you?”

“No, it means only a certain kind of man should have sex with me, or he’s going to get burned. And if he does, it’s his own fault.”

“Fine. If I get burned as a result of becoming involved with Alex, or anyone, I won’t ask for your sympathy.” Zoë’s irritable tone caused Justine to glance at her in surprise.

“Hey, I’m on your side.”

“I know that. And I’m even pretty sure you’re right. But it still feels like I’m being bossed around.”

Justine pulled shoes out of the box. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she said after a moment. “You’re going to be so busy with Emma, you won’t have the time to fool around with Alex.”

Later Duane and Alex carried furniture and mattresses into the house and set various pieces where Zoë indicated. The afternoon sun was ripening by the time the heavy work had been completed. Now it was just a matter of putting an array of smaller items in their places, which Zoë would finish tomorrow.

Alex carried Zoë’s old dressmaker’s mannequin into the smaller bedroom, which hadn’t yet been painted. He unwrapped the mover’s blanket from around the mannequin. It was richly covered in a treasure garden of brooches made with crystals, gemstones, enamel, or painted lacquer. “Where do you want this?” he asked Zoë.

“That corner is fine.” Zoë had left most of her brooch collection pinned to the mannequin, having only removed about a half dozen of the more valuable ones. Taking them out of her bag, she went to pin them back onto the mannequin.

“I’m sorry this room isn’t finished yet.” He frowned as he glanced around the small space. The carpeting was new, but the room still had to be repainted and the old light fixtures replaced. Although a new wall-to-wall closet had been framed, it hadn’t been drywalled or fitted with doors.

“You’ve done an amazing amount of work,” Zoë replied. “And the most important things were the kitchen and my grandmother’s room, which are beautiful.” Scrutinizing the mannequin, Zoë pinned a brooch on an empty space. “I’m either going to have to stop collecting,” she said, “or get another mannequin.”

Alex stood next to her, looking over the array of jewelry. “When did you start the collection?”

“When I was sixteen. My grandmother gave this to me for my birthday.” She showed him a flower covered with crystals. “And I bought this to celebrate graduating from culinary school.” She held up a red enameled lobster with gold antennae before fastening it to the mannequin’s chest.

“What about that one?”Alex asked, looking at an antique gold-framed ivory cameo.