Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Zara
Oh, was I ever a fool.
I’d drunk enough last night to wake in absolute misery, but not so much I couldn’t remember most of what I’d done.
I was in Cormac’s guest bedroom. I couldn’t quite recall him putting me to bed, but there were snapshots of him carrying me to his car and whispering for me to sleep well burned in my mind.
This was not great.
I sat up, and the room tilted. Breathing deep through my nose, I waited on the edge of the bed until I was mostly certain I wouldn’t lose the contents of my stomach.
I was surprised to find my phone charging on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water and painkillers.
After checking the time, I poured two pills into my hand and swallowed them along with half the water.
As my mind became less hazy, it dawned on me Cormac had done this.
He’d plugged in my phone and left the water and medicine.
My throat tightened with a sudden surge of emotion and a deep, unbearable sense of loss.
This boy…this man now, had always been good.
To me. To everyone. He still was. No matter what had happened to drive us apart years ago, he was still Cormac.
And I had missed him more than I ever thought possible.
Another deep breath, and I pushed to my feet, making my way into the en suite bathroom.
Once I’d washed off my smeared makeup and scrubbed my teeth with the toothbrush Cormac had left for me—of course he’d left a toothbrush for me—I ventured into the hallway.
If I’d thought I could have gotten away with sneaking out, I might have tried, but voices filtered up from downstairs. A man’s deep voice…and a woman’s.
My stomach went wobbly again. There was a ninety-seven percent chance that voice belonged to Cormac’s grandmother, Lily. As much as I’d love to see her, the circumstances weren’t great. At all.
Still, there was no use hiding.
I found a wool cardigan in the guest room closet to cover my sparkly top and wove my tangled hair into a braid. Only then did I tiptoe down the stairs and slowly make my way into the kitchen, following the scent of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon.
I stopped in the entry, one foot stacked on top of the other. “Good morning.”
Cormac’s grandfather, Connell, looked up from the plate he was dishing.
Still broad and tall. He’d aged since I’d last seen him, but he’d done it well.
There was a twinkle in his soft-brown eyes, and his spine was straight as an arrow.
His silver hair was neatly combed, and his chambray button-down was tucked into jeans that were probably older than me.
His silver belt buckle gleamed at his soft middle, but not shinier than the gold wedding ring on his left hand.
“There she is,” he said gruffly. “Good morning, darlin’.”
Lily pushed up from their round kitchen table and came toward me with outstretched arms. I nearly choked on tears at the sight of her, so beautiful and healthy and alive.
She was in her eighties, but it didn’t show.
She was so elegant, with skin that looked like it had to feel like velvet, a sleek blond bob that brushed her shoulders, and a pale-gray cashmere lounge set.
“Hello, beautiful,” she said, taking my hands in hers. “Cormac said you might not be feeling your best this morning, but you look absolutely stunning.”
“Good morning, Lily,” I said thickly. “It’s so good to see you.”
And to my utter mortification, my eyes pricked with tears that did not go unnoticed. Lily sighed and pulled me into a tight hug. My cheek pressed against hers, confirming her skin was as soft as I’d imagined.
Did Cormac have any idea how lucky he was to have his grandparents? My last year of high school and first year of college, I’d lost my grandmother and two grandfathers like dominoes, one after the other, and I still missed them like nothing else.
“I’m so glad you’re here, sweetheart,” she murmured before pulling back to look me over. “We’ve missed you on the ranch. Summers haven’t been the same without you running around with our Cormac.”
“I’m sorry for being weird.” I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’ll blame it on the hangover and being really happy to see the two of you.”
She waved me off. “Nonsense. You have nothing to apologize for. Come. Sit down. Connell made cinnamon rolls. They’re the perfect cure for a hangover. In fact, I’d venture to say they’d cure almost anything.”
His chuckle was a roll of thunder. “I wouldn’t go that far. Coffee, Zara?”
“Please,” I replied. “If it isn’t any trouble.”
“No trouble.” Lily took her seat and directed me to the chair across from hers. “Cormac rarely lets us take care of him these days. He fusses over us like we’re his children. It’s a pleasure to be the ones who fuss.”
Connell deposited a steaming mug in front of me and topped off Lily’s before bending to kiss her temple.
After I doctored up my coffee and took a few sips, my mind cleared enough to ask, “Is Cormac sleeping?”
“Oh no,” Lily answered. “Our boy is an early riser. He’s out for a run. He should be back soon, though.”
“A run.” The thought made my brain hurt. “He’s disciplined.”
He’d always been that way. Cormac had taught me how to run when I was twelve.
We’d started slow, just to the river and back, and had gradually added distance.
His legs were twice the length of mine, but he’d stayed by my side the whole way without complaint.
I hadn’t done a lot of running lately. Maybe this was the summer I’d get back to it.
Just…not when I was hungover.
“He is.” Connell placed a gooey cinnamon bun in front of Lily and me before taking the seat at the head of the table. “He has a gym in one of the spare rooms upstairs, but he mostly does his running outside. It’s rare he misses a day.”
Lily crinkled her nose. “Even in the snow. It’s barbaric.”
Connell patted her hand. “That’s your California showing. Cormac is a Wyoming boy, born and bred. He’s heartier stock. Cold weather doesn’t slow him down.”
Breakfast with Connell and Lily was a delight, despite my tilt-a-whirl stomach and the low throb in my head.
The coffee and cinnamon bun helped, but it was their company that really eased me through the morning.
They told me about their travels, which were far and wide.
They held hands and looked at each other like the secret of the universe was within their connection.
And when it came time to ask me about my life, they didn’t dance around my divorce.
Lily was frank, and Connell was gentle, but by not avoiding it, it became less of a thing and just another event in my past.
It made me think of how my own grandparents would have treated me.
If he were alive, my grandpa would have taken me on hikes in our woods to hunt for morels. He’d have let me be quiet with him or talk about anything I wanted.
My grandma would have sat me on the floor in front of her and brushed my hair until I fell asleep with my cheek on her knee.
Granddad might’ve taken me for a milkshake and a drive. He’d have cussed Jackson out and stood by me while I threw shells into the ocean, giving me space for my anger.
I missed them something fierce, but sitting with Lily and Connell, accepting their brand of comfort, was almost as nice. It wasn’t the same—how could it be?—but it settled a little piece of my wobbly insides.
The back door creaked open just as Connell launched into a story about getting stranded in Lisbon. A rush of cool morning air slipped into the kitchen, along with the steady thud of running shoes on the mudroom tile.
I didn’t turn at first. I didn’t have to look to know it was him.
“Morning,” Cormac called, slightly winded.
Then I looked.
That was my first mistake.
He filled the doorway between the mudroom and kitchen, chest rising and falling in slow, controlled pulls of breath. His shirt was twisted and tucked into the back waistband of his black shorts, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his skin, catching the light streaming through the kitchen windows.
His hair was damp and pushed back from his forehead. My gaze followed a droplet sliding from his temple down the side of his neck before disappearing along the ridge of his collarbone.
That was when I saw something I hadn’t expected.
Script inked in dark lines. Words I couldn’t read from where I was sitting, but they followed his shape. Lower, his bicep flexed as he reached up to drag a hand through his hair, revealing a black-and-gray landscape wrapped around the muscle.
I averted my gaze, very carefully studying my coffee.
“How many miles today?” Lily asked.
“Five,” he replied, stepping into the kitchen fully. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. The sky is clear.”
Clear.
Unlike my head. Why wasn’t he putting his shirt on? He definitely should have.
Connell tapped Lily’s hand. “Want to take a walk with me?”
“If it’s along Main Street and ends with a glass of wine at Joy’s, I’d be delighted.”
His smile was warm and indulgent. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”
Cormac crossed to the sink, the muscles along his side stretching and shifting as he reached up to grab a glass from the cabinet. I swallowed. Hard.
He turned on the tap and filled the glass, then braced one hand on the edge of the sink, drinking it down in long pulls. His throat worked as he swallowed. A bead of water escaped the corner of his mouth, tracking over his sternum.
I absolutely did not follow it with my eyes.
Except I did.
When he finished, he refilled the glass and tipped his head back slightly, eyes closing for a second as he drank.
His skin was flushed from exertion, golden and alive.
There was a small scar beneath his ribs I didn’t remember.
And when he turned, he revealed ink stretching across his back. Another tattoo, this one bigger.
Lowering the glass, he finally looked at me, his gaze flicking over my borrowed cardigan, my braid, then my face. Something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile. Not quite concern.
“You’re up,” he said.
“I am. Not us up as you, but I’m up,” I replied, aiming for breezy and landing somewhere near breathless.
“How’re you feeling?” He pushed off the counter, turning to face me fully.
“Alive,” I said. “Marginally.”
“That’s always a good sign.”
He stepped closer to the table. I tried not to stare at the tattoo along his collarbone again and failed miserably. I was curious, wanting to know what it said.
“When did you get those?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His brows lifted. “The tattoos?”
Heat flooded my face. “No, the…yes.”
Lily hummed into her coffee.
“A few years ago. The one on my arm’s for the ranch. My backpiece too.”
I glanced at his arm again. Now that he’d said it, the lines resolved into something that looked like the ranch’s gate with barbed wire threaded around it.
“And the words?”
He lifted his hand to his collarbone, fingers brushing below the ink.
“A reminder,” he stated simply before pulling his T-shirt from his waistband and tugging it over his head.
Lily pushed her chair back. “Connell, darling, didn’t you say you wanted to show me that article about that vineyard in Argentina?”
Connell stood immediately. “I did.”
They couldn’t have been more obvious as they made a swift exit, sneaky little smiles on their faces. It was adorable and sweet and made my chest pang for my own grandparents once again.
When we were alone, Cormac slowly exhaled. “You don’t have to look like you’re about to bolt.”
“I’m not.”
“You keep eyeing the door.”
So I don’t look at you…and your muscles…and all the changes I wasn’t around to see happen.
“You took care of me last night,” I said softly.
His jaw flexed. “Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
“Zara.” My name sounded different. Deeper. Rougher around the edges. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that.”
My heart gave an unsteady thud.
“I should, um”—I gestured vaguely toward the hallway—“let you shower.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Probably a good call.”
He stepped closer as he moved past me, the heat of his body brushing my arm. My breath caught, and he paused at the edge of the kitchen, looking back.
“Once I’m dressed, I’ll drive you to the guesthouse, then we can go pick your car up from Scott.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t,” he replied. “I’m going to, though.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
He nodded. “Good. It’d be a waste of time.” His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. There and gone. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Then he disappeared down the hall, and I found myself staring at the doorway long after he was gone, my pulse fluttering in my throat.
I’m glad I’m here too.