“Don’t know what to tell you, man,” Donovan said. “Until she confides in you there isn’t a lot you can do to reassure her. Take it from someone who knows, it’s better to forget all that PC bullshit about time and space and respecting boundaries. The first thing you have to do is make sure she can trust you, and that isn’t going to happen the very first time you tell her that. But if you combine that with also trying to get her to confide in you about what she’s afraid of, then hopefully you’ll wear her down. Push but don’t be an asshole. And in the meantime, shower her with as much personal attention as possible. She’ll figure out you aren’t going to hurt her.”

“You sound so sure about that,” Joe said dryly. “I don’t know that I ought to constantly be in her space. That could be sending her all the wrong signals, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Don’t have your head stuck so far up your ass that you don’t recognize the one when she’s right under your nose,” Donovan chided. “If you insist on living in denial and end up hurting her because you were just being a stubborn horse’s ass, you’ll never forgive yourself for rejecting her. Not to mention, if you make it clear after trying so hard to get her to trust you that you have no interest in her, then she’s going to leave and you’ll never get her back.”

A knot formed in Joe’s stomach and he found his fingers clenching into tight fists at the very thought of Zoe leaving and him never seeing her again.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he said before ending the call.

He walked back over to where Nathan and Shea were sitting. He slid onto the couch on Shea’s other side and rubbed his hand over the top of his head.

“I had Van do some checking up on Zoe, and he didn’t turn up anything.”

Shea stirred, her eyes swimming with seriousness as she stared up at him. “I wasn’t wrong, Joe. She’s terrified of someone or something.”

“I know, honey,” he said, squeezing her knee.

“I don’t want to intrude,” she continued. “I’d rather just stay away from her unless I have advance warning so I know to steel myself better. I wouldn’t feel right divulging something if she hasn’t trusted one of us enough to tell us.”

“I agree,” Joe said. “She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

“You sound certain of that,” Nathan said, one eyebrow arching in question.

Joe shrugged. “I’m not going to give her much choice.”

“I didn’t think you were ready for something like this,” Shea murmured.

“She’s the one not ready,” Joe countered, realizing in that instant that it was true. “I was ready the minute I laid eyes on her.”

This was also true. He just hadn’t wanted it to be. Then. Now? He couldn’t remember a single argument that had rolled off his tongue in the past as to why he should remain single. The only problem was, this wasn’t a slam dunk. Far from it. Zoe wasn’t going to fall right into his arms, and neither was she going to accept that a man she’d only met twice wanted forever.

Hell, he was having enough problems accepting it for both of them. No, the problem wasn’t him accepting—he accepted it just fine. The problem was in believing that it had come this easy when for so long he’d fought the very idea. As much as he hated to admit it, his brothers had all been right.

He would know when the one entered his life. Well, now he knew, and what scared the shit out of him was that knowing was one thing. Making it happen was an altogether different fight. One he had no intention of losing.

CHAPTER 12

THE next morning, Joe awoke with a single purpose. He hadn’t slept much. Anticipation and nervousness had crowded his mind and vied for equal attention until the two swam together and blurred. He formed and reformed his plan of attack a dozen times, but each time, it came down to a single objective. Spend another day with Zoe no matter how he had to make it happen.

Knowing what time his mother always prepared breakfast, Joe got up after dozing for a couple of hours, showered and dressed, a sense of urgency beating down on him. As he walked into the cool morning air, he felt invigorated. His skin prickled and his blood surged hotter than ever before. Anticipation of seeing her again, of unveiling more of the mystery that was Zoe Kildare, nagged incessantly at him until it became all consuming. An obsession.

The few minutes it took to drive into the compound and park outside his mom’s door gave him no time to formulate his thoughts any better than the entire night had. He didn’t even know what he was going to say yet.

He let himself in the front door and sniffed appreciatively at the air. Pancakes and bacon unless his nostrils told him wrong, and they were rarely ever wrong when it came to pinpointing what his mother was cooking. Lord knows he’d had years to perfect his guesses using only his nose and his growling stomach as his guide.

“Joe!” his mom exclaimed when he entered the kitchen.

“Got enough for one more?” he asked hopefully.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t I always? I never know who will pop in for breakfast so I always make plenty. Your father keeps grousing that I waste too much food, but he never complains when it means he gets seconds. Of course I only serve him half of what he’s allowed so he thinks he’s getting away with something when I agree to give him seconds.”

He laughed and hugged his mom. Ever since his dad’s heart attack several years earlier, his mom had taken the reins of his diet and his physical activity, forcing him to work fewer hours at the hardware store, which inevitably meant hiring part-time help or relying on a family member to pick up the slack.