The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

friend of mine. Zach this is my fiancé, Steve Land, and his parents Barbara and Joe Land."
    As they all shook hands, Julie couldn't help but notice that Zach, all grown up, was just as straight and tall and solid as she'd ever imagined he'd be. He had dark hair, thick and clipped short and neat, even darker eyes, a strong, determined jaw, a beautiful smile. A hint of strength and power emanated from him as he stood there in a perfectly tailored suit. The stamp of confidence and ease showed in every move he made, a kind heart in the way he'd always treated her.
    "Old friends, you say?" Steve asked him.
    "Yes," Zach said, not taking his eyes off her. "And neighbors."
    "Oh?" Steve's mother sounded interested all of a sudden. "You're from St. Louis, too?"
    "St. Louis?" Zach asked, blank faced.
    And just like that, Julie felt the treacherous ground she was standing on shift this way and that.
    Julie jumped in, begging him with her eyes to just let it be. "He used to be. It's been ages since we've seen each other." She smiled up at Steve in the end. He wasn't going anywhere. He wanted to marry her, after all. Then she turned to Zach and uttered a bold-faced lie. "And your family moved to... Where was it, Zach? Ohio?"
    He took a breath, his jaw tightening. She could just imagine what was running through his head. Just like old times, huh Julie?
    Years ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to call her on a lie. He'd always thought she could be better than she was. She held her breath, waiting....
    "Yes." He finally nodded, staring at her. "I'm surprised you remember."
    All the lies, he meant.
    She hung her head, realizing he had the power to shame her, even now.
    "And you two know each other because...?" Steve asked.
    "Julie and my little sister Grace were inseparable for years when they were younger," Zach explained. "I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. In fact..."
    He slipped a hand into the inside front pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, silver case. Taking a business card out of it, he scribbled something on the back, then gave it to her.
    "Do that, Julie. Give her a call." His look practically dared her not to.
    Or what? He'd track her down? Not that it would be difficult. She'd never bothered to change her name. At the time she'd been tempted, she hadn't had the money, and once she had it, she realized she hadn't left anyone behind who'd care enough to come looking for her.
    She took the card, promising to call.
    The hostess, sleek and elegant in a slim, black floor-length skirt and a crisp white blouse, joined them, nodding respectfully to Steve's father. "Your table's ready, Mr. Land."
    Steve's mother paused for a moment, then turned to Zach. "You've just arrived in town, Mr. McRae?"
    "Yes, ma'am," he said.
    "Alone?"
    "Yes. I was supposed to have dinner with a colleague, but he got tied up at the last minute. I decided to come anyway and try it on my own."
    "Well, we can't have you eating dinner all alone. Why don't you join us? We've met so few of Julie's friends, and with her not having any family left..."
    Zach gave Julie another one of those looks. "I'd love to join you. If that's all right with everyone."
    Barbara Land looked gleeful, as if she'd read between every line and knew Julie was hiding something and that Zach might well be the key. Steve gave Julie an odd look, his arm tightening once again at her waist. She could feel all those not-so-subtle male signals rolling off him. Hands off. She's mine. As if Zach had ever seen her as anything but a lost little girl or a reckless teenager.
    There was a short, awkward silence before Steve conceded. "Please, join us."
    Moving through the crowded restaurant, Zach caught her by the arm. She stared down at his hand, surprised at Zach the man touching her, at the little tingling energy she felt between them. It gave him the time to draw her back from the rest of the group and whisper, "Got rid of the family again, huh, Julie?"
    He knew well that she'd spent most of her high school years claiming to be an orphan or the sole child of a father who was off building a bridge in South America and hadn't been seen in years.
    "Wouldn't you, if they were yours?" she asked.
    "No, I wouldn't."
    "Of course not," she admitted more sharply than she intended with her nerves getting to her, as they wove their way through the myriad tables and chairs. "You're perfect, and you have a perfect life."
    He caught her arm again and stopped her right there in the middle of the