Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Cormac
Zara sat in my truck, a sullen expression on her face and a box from Sugar Rush in her lap.
I twisted in my seat, looking at her. The freckle on her cheek.
The point of her chin. Her eyebrows were different now.
Sharper. But her hair still swirled around her face the way she’d always hated and I’d once studied like a treasure map.
Finally, she turned toward me.
“I’m grumpy.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. I see that. It sucks your car is making trouble, but Scott’ll get it working in no time. Fortunately, you don’t need it most of the week.”
She wrinkled her nose, blowing out a heavy breath. “I don’t need it most days, but I did need it today.”
I drummed my thumbs on my steering wheel. “Okay. I’ve got time. Where else do you need to go? I’m glad to take you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s okay. You’ve already done more than enough.”
“All I did was make a phone call. No skin off my back.”
A soft laugh puffed from her lips. “You sounded like your dad there.”
“That seems to be happening more and more often lately.” I shrugged. “There are worse things, right?”
“Your dad is wonderful, so yes, there are far worse things.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and looked down as she stacked her hands on top of the box. “I’d planned to hit Grocery Barn on the way back to the ranch, but I can ask Javier or Henrik to drive me another day.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you going out of your way for me.”
“Zara…you just said it yourself, Grocery Barn is on the way back. Plus, I was planning to go myself. I ate crumbs out of the pantry last night. You’re lucky you weren’t there to see it. That was embarrassing.”
Her mouth tipped upward as she shook her head again. “Shut up. I absolutely refuse to believe that.”
“You don’t know my late-night habits. When I get hungry, I get a little feral.”
She flipped open the box and held it out to me. “Then you better eat a cookie before you start gnawing on the steering wheel.”
I picked out a chocolate chip cookie. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
When we got to the grocery store, we each got our own carts. Zara zoomed away from me with barely a backward glance, but I caught up to her in the snack aisle. She was holding two bags of pretzels, her brows knitted in concentration. I pulled up beside her, peering over her shoulder.
“What’s the decision-maker?”
She jumped, both bags flying out of her hands. I managed to snatch one out of the air while the other landed in her cart.
I laughed, putting the one in my hand back on the shelf. “I guess that was it—decision made.”
She poked my bicep twice. “Stop sneaking up on me. My heart can’t take it.”
I held up my hands. “All I did was walk up to you. There was no sneaking.”
“You’re too light on your feet for your own good.” She grabbed the bag from her cart and replaced it with the one I’d put back. “I like this brand better.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Does it taste like spite?”
She flipped her hair back, a smirk curving her mouth. “My favorite flavor! It fuels me.”
I grabbed the same pretzels and tossed them in my cart. “I’ve always heard spite’s a good motivator. Thanks for the suggestion.”
She laughed and tried to muffle it with her hand, but I didn’t miss it. “Shut up, Maccie. And don’t follow me. Grocery shopping is private.”
We met up again in the bread section, Zara once again weighing two options. I made sure to make a lot of noise as I approached, reaching around her for my usual brand. I still earned a frown, but nothing went flying this time.
“This store doesn’t carry my bread,” she muttered.
“I’m going to guess it doesn’t carry a lot of what you’re used to. People around here like keeping things simple. If you want to order something specific, let Pam know. She’ll get it for you.”
Her brow crinkled as she looked up at me. “Pam?”
“The manager. My grandmother has her order her favorite chardonnay by the case.”
“She does?” Just like that, her brow smoothed, and light glinted off her inky irises. “I haven’t even asked how your grandparents are.”
“Wily as ever.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I…uh, live with them.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s a recent event. I was living in town and commuting to the ranch, but in the winter, that can get tricky.
They have this big house, and it’s just the two of them, so when my grandmother suggested it, I thought, why not?
It works well for us. They live on the main floor, and I have the upstairs to myself.
Half the time, they’re traveling anyway, so—”
“Mac.” Zara laid her hand on my chest, and my heart jumped wildly behind it. “You don’t have to explain it to me. We lived with my grandfather when I was growing up, remember? If he were still alive, I’d move in with him in a heartbeat.”
I cleared the clog out of my throat. “I remember, yeah. A lot of people don’t really get it. I should have known you would.”
Victoria had been…well, repulsed wouldn’t have been too strong a word.
I should have called it then. That was pretty much an irreconcilable difference.
I’d kept trying, but the writing had been on the wall from the very start.
I couldn’t say I was disappointed it hadn’t worked out.
And the way she’d behaved at work this week had only cemented my decision.
Ending our short-lived relationship had been the right move—along with my resolve to never date a coworker again.
Zara hit my cart with hers. “Anyway, I’m going to find Pam to ask her to order my bread. Meet you up front?”
“I could come wi—”
She raised her hand, a hint of a smile tracing her lips. “Grocery shopping is private, remember?”
I chuckled, bemused. “All right. I’ll just…uh, linger here for a few minutes.”
“Perfect.”
Zara put up a cursory protest as I took her bags and loaded them into the truck.
Then I opened her door for her and waited until she was buckled to close it, and the look she gave me was loaded with something I couldn’t pin down.
Something like confusion, but that wasn’t it.
Loss? Maybe…yet that didn’t really fit either.
There was a time when I’d thought I could read Zara like a book, but that was years ago. Another life. I had to remember that. We were different people now, with a metric ton of experience and baggage shaping who we’d become.
When we were on our way again, Sugar Brush thinning out behind us, she rubbed her palms along her legs and sighed.
“Pam’s nice.”
I glanced over. “Yeah. Most people around here are.”
“I forgot that—what it’s like to know everyone you come in contact with. It’s…I don’t know if it’s comforting or claustrophobic.”
“Yeah.” I drummed my thumbs on the wheel. “It’s a perspective thing. When I was younger, this town felt like an ill-fitting suit—like I couldn’t take a full breath or move my limbs properly. Then I went to Savage U, where everyone was a stranger, and missed the hell out of it.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “There were no Pams in Savage River, that’s for sure. Portland either.”
“There’s no place like home.”
“I’ve heard that somewhere before.” She shifted in her seat, pulling her leg up so she could face me. “Tell me everything that’s happened in Sugar Brush the last couple years.”
I cocked my head. “Everything? You don’t know?”
“Only what I’ve heard from my parents. I want your version.”
“All right.” The easiest thing to talk about was my family.
They’d been up to a lot. Built lives, found happiness.
“All my siblings are parents now. Caleb’s got Jesse, of course.
He’s fifteen and the smartest person I know.
Now he’s got little Desmond with his wife, Alice, too.
If you take a trip to the library, you’ll likely meet her.
She’s the head librarian and knows pretty much every book ever written.
She wrote her own series that’s finally getting published. ”
“Wow. That’s incredible. Sounds like Caleb landed himself quite the catch.”
I had to laugh. “He did, no thanks to himself. He almost screwed it all up by missing what was right in front of him. Fortunately for him, Alice gave him another chance.”
She leaned in, elbow on the console, chin on her fist. “Tell me more.”
“Hannah got married to Remi a few years back. Have you heard of Remington Town? He left Wyoming to become a pretty well-known conflict photojournalist.”
“My mom showed me his books a couple years ago. I recognized a lot of his pictures. He was Caleb’s best friend when they were kids, right?”
“Right. When Remi came back after his dad died, he and Hannah got together. None of us saw that coming, but they’re perfect for each other. They’ve got Silas and Brooks. Silas takes after Hannah, as wild as they come. Brooks is a mellow little guy. He just watches his big brother wreak havoc.”
I saw her smile in my periphery, soft and unguarded. It settled into me like muscle memory. “God, I can’t wait to meet Silas and Brooks. Desmond too. I’m sure he’s adorable. Jesse was so cute when he was little. I already know I’m going to love them all.”
“Hard not to,” I agreed. “I’m sure you’ll see them sooner than later, especially if you come over for Sunday dinners.”
“I don’t want to intrude or wear out my welcome.”
“You have to know my parents consider you family, Zara.” The words came out easily because they were true. “There’s no possible way you could intrude. You could move yourself into their house, and they’d welcome you, no questions asked.”
Her hand fell away from her chin, sliding back to her lap. “I kind of did that when I was hired for the summer.”
“Pretty sure they offered you the guesthouse.”
“I’m pretty sure my mother called your mother and asked.”
I chuckled. “Proves my point. That’s a family thing to do, isn’t it?”
The wind picked up as we drove, buffeting the truck just enough to remind me how exposed this land was. There was nowhere to hide out here. I wondered if she felt it too, the way this place stripped you down to the essentials.
“I guess it is. If I had a house, it would be wide open to Zane and Steven’s kids.”
“Think they’ll have any?”
“Oh yeah. Probably not for a while, but for sure. They’ll be incredible fathers.”
“I see that.” I snuck another look at her. “Want me to keep going?”
“Please.”
“Phoebe and Deke Slater got married a few years ago and had Abigail. Deke’s a carpenter and Joy’s nephew. You know, of Joy’s Elbow Room. Actually, I don’t think you ever went in there.”
“I didn’t,” she replied. “I was too young, but I was always curious.”
I nodded. “You’ll have to check it out before you go home. It’s a dive, but the beers are cold, and the burgers are pretty fantastic. I’ve been known to win a game or two of pool there.”
“I never mastered pool. You’d certainly beat me if we ever played.”
The road ahead was straight as an arrow, not another car in sight, the sky stretching wide and pale above us. I let myself look at her longer. Her night-sky hair draped over one shoulder. Her gaze soft and bright as it rested on me.
We’d taken drives like this plenty before. Back when she was too young to have a license, we’d meander down the endless, empty roads outside of town, windows down, dust curling behind us, music blasting so loud it rattled the doors.
Then later, during my visits to Oregon, when things were grim and she needed to get out of her house so badly, she looked seconds away from screaming or bursting.
We’d borrow her mom’s car and wander unfamiliar roads, rain streaking the windshield, neither of us caring we were lost. All that mattered was we were together, putting distance between us and everything else.
That wasn’t what this was.
But it was impossible not to feel the echo of it in my chest.
Instead of bringing it up, I said, “I could teach you.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.” Then she nudged my arm, and the brief contact sent a ridiculous jolt through me. “You told me what your siblings have been up to. What about you?”
“Me? There’s not much to tell. I’ve been working a lot.
Last year, I took over as the lead of hospitality operations.
That’s taken most of my time and attention.
You met Mrs. Keller—you can imagine the kind of extra tasks I have to pile on my already full plate. We have a dozen Mrs. Kellers a season.”
“I can imagine. I know what it’s like to get buried by work and not take time for myself. I hope you’re at least making time for Victoria.”
I jerked so hard the truck drifted over the yellow line, tires humming in protest before I corrected. My heart kicked hard against my ribs. “What?”
She straightened in her seat. “Victoria…your girlfriend. Are you okay? Was I not supposed to know about her? If you’re keeping it a secret, her dragging you into your office was probably not the most subtle thing she could have done.”
She’d surprised me that day. Her behavior had been out of character and unprofessional. Allowing her an audience had been the only choice I’d had, but I hadn’t liked it.
She’d had some vague work thing she’d wanted to discuss—nothing I’d needed to be involved in. Then she’d asked me to have dinner with her.
As friends.
I still wanted to kick myself for allowing our short relationship to happen. I could only blame loneliness and a long dry spell.
“It’s not a secret. It’s not anything.”
“What do you mean?”
I pulled in a deep breath. “We dated for a short time, but it didn’t work out.”
“Oh.” She tapped her fingertips on her knee. “Does she know that? Because it seemed to me—”
“Yes, Zara. She knows.”
I was firm but as kind as I could have been with her in my office. We weren’t a match. No sense in moving forward with anything, no matter how casual—not when my head was somewhere else.
I wasn’t a man who played games like that.
Thinking about one woman while with another wasn’t me.
And as long as Zara was here, thinking of anyone else would be impossible.
Some things really never changed.