Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-five
Zara
Cormac arrived the next morning before I was ready for him. I was yawning and holding my sneakers when I swung open the door, finding him jogging in place and more alert than ever.
“I’m out of shape,” I warned, bending over to stuff my feet into my shoes.
He chuffed. “I doubt that. You spend your days climbing mountains and going on hikes.”
“But not running.” I looked up from tying my laces. “I remember running with you being pretty intense.”
“We’ll go slow,” he promised.
We started down the gravel drive, sneakers crunching in rhythm before easing into a jog once we hit the packed dirt road looping the family side of the ranch. The morning air was cool and clean. I filled my lungs so deep with it; it almost hurt.
For a few strides, I was acutely aware of him.
Of everything.
How just last night, his mouth had been on mine. His hands had been everywhere. Of how his T-shirt brushed my arm now as we ran side by side, close but not touching. Of the quiet space between us that felt…different.
I waited for it to feel awkward.
For one of us to trip over it.
“So,” he said easily, glancing at me, “still think you beat me on our last race around the south fence line?”
Relief loosened something in my chest. “Oh, please. You willingly forfeited that race. I won fair and square.”
“I twisted my ankle in a prairie dog hole. You left me crying in pain on the ground.”
I laughed. “First, you weren’t crying. Whimpering, maybe, but not crying.” I bumped his arm with mine. “Second, I came back for you.”
“After you declared victory.”
“It was my only chance of ever beating you. I couldn’t let it pass me by.”
We settled into a steady pace, the rhythm of our footfalls syncing without us trying. That had always been our thing: we found each other’s cadence without effort.
“I forgot how pretty it is this time of day,” I said, softer now.
Cormac’s gaze found mine. “Most people don’t see it. They’re still asleep.”
“Or working.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Or avoiding runs any way they can.”
“Rude.”
He bumped his arm lightly into mine, and the bare brush sent a spark through me. The tension I’d woken up with had begun to unwind. He wasn’t distant. He wasn’t being overly careful. He wasn’t pretending it hadn’t happened.
He was just…Cormac.
Talking about the new guests arriving this week. Teasing me about the time Hannah had convinced me to try barrel racing and I nearly took out three fences. Asking about a trail I’d hiked last week and whether the wildflowers were in full bloom.
At one point, he surged ahead a few strides then turned to jog backward in front of me. “Still with me?”
“Barely,” I shot back, though I was fine. Mostly.
His eyes dragged along my face, checking me over for himself. Then he faced forward again and slowed without comment.
We rounded the far pasture, where the land opened wide and rolling, the mountains rising blue and hazy in the distance. A cloud of dirt drifted up every time our shoes scuffed the edge of the road. A hawk circled overhead.
I realized I was smiling.
And a big part of me suddenly felt like it had been righted.
This was why I’d come here. Not only to start over, but to return to the beginning, where everything had been fresh and easy. Where I’d felt most like myself, with all good things in front of me, and people who loved me beside me. Where summers lasted forever and friendships never died.
And Cormac was central to all of it.
“I’m glad I came back. Glad we found each other again.”
He turned, his eyes bouncing over my face. Something was there, words unsaid, but he kept them to himself and just nodded, the corners of his mouth curving into the barest smile.
“I’m glad you came back too, Zara.”
He took it easy on me, leading us on a route I was certain was much shorter than he usually ran. When the guesthouse came into view, I slowed to a walk, my hands on my hips as I sucked in air. Cormac slowed beside me, breathing as easy as always.
The jerk.
We slowed even more when we neared my door, but my heart was a speedy rabbit in my throat. I never got nervous around Cormac, but suddenly, I wasn’t sure how to act or what I should say. I knew I wanted to kiss him again, but I wasn’t sure if I should, or if he’d want that.
We spoke at the same time.
“What are you—?”
“I should probably—”
He laughed and held his hand out. “You go first.”
I stopped, turning to face him. “I was going to ask what you’re doing the rest of the day.”
His mouth hitched. “I was going to tell you I promised to help my granddad with a project, so I should probably get going.” His eyes drifted down my body. “Is your tattoo feeling okay? Did you apply more ointment when you woke up?”
Brushing aside my disappointment, I nodded. “It’s fine, and yes, I did. I want it to heal well, so I intend to follow all Giselle’s instructions.”
“Good. That’s good.” He scuffed his toe in the dirt. “What are your plans for the day?”
“I’m meeting with Phoebe, Hannah, and Alice later to plan the booth for the market.”
His eyes flared. “They’re really putting you to work, huh?”
“They are, but they’re going to be sorely disappointed if they expect me to craft.” I laughed and shrugged. “I’m looking forward to hanging out with them and doing something for the town.”
“They’ll make it fun and painless.”
When he glanced away, I stepped forward, my toes hitting his. His breath caught, and he turned back to face me, a brow lifting. I pressed my palms to his chest, feeling his heart jump.
I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
“Was last night a one-time thing, or can I kiss you before you go?”
Cormac’s expression shifted so fast I almost missed it. His brows lifted, mouth parting like I’d knocked the wind out of him, then something heated slid in from behind.
His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer.
“Zara,” he said quietly, my name rough in his throat.
I held his gaze. “I don’t want it to be one time. It’s up to you.”
His fingers tightened at my hips, and he walked me backward until my shoulders hit the door. His body followed, caging me in, and his breath came hard.
“Do you actually believe I’ve been able to think about anything else since last night?”
My pulse stuttered.
“Cormac—”
He kissed me, and there was nothing tentative or unsure about it.
His mouth moved against mine with the kind of urgency that stole the air from my lungs. I fisted my hands in his T-shirt, pulling him closer, needing his weight. His hand slid up my side, careful when it brushed near my tattoo and firm everywhere else, fingers splaying to cover more of me.
I tilted my head, deepening the kiss, and he groaned low in his chest. His thigh pressed between mine, and I gasped into his mouth, the sensation sharp and sweet and overwhelming.
I took a moment to acknowledge how natural this was. There was nothing awkward or wrong about kissing this man I’d known all my life. Every time our mouths touched, I only wanted more.
Kissing Cormac Kelly was another extension of our connection. Maybe this had been inevitable; we’d just needed it to be the right place and the right time.
Everything faded with his mouth on mine. I had no idea how many minutes had passed. There was only the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the steady slide of his lips over mine, the way his hands kept adjusting, like he couldn’t settle on just one place to touch me.
Finally, he pulled back enough to breathe, his forehead dropping to mine, his chest rising and falling hard against my palms.
“Zara,” he said again, but this time, it sounded like a warning.
“Cormac.” I smiled against his lips. “You should come in.”
His eyes opened, dark and wrecked. “I want to, sweetheart. God, do I want to. But I can’t. Not today.”
But he didn’t go anywhere.
He kissed me again, slower this time, deeper in a different way. Less frantic. Like he had all the time in the world to map the shape of my lips and feel of my tongue.
When he finally forced himself to step back, it looked physically painful. His hands dragged down my arms before letting go entirely.
“If I don’t leave right now,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m not going to.”
My breath was still uneven. “But you have things to do. Important things.”
A flicker of temptation crossed his face, but he shut it down as quickly as it had appeared.
“Right. Promises I made. Can’t let my granddad down.”
“He seems pretty forgiving,” I argued, knowing I wouldn’t win.
Cormac huffed a laugh. “He is, but I’m still going.”
He took one step back, then another, like each one required effort. His gaze lingered on my ponytail he’d undoubtedly messed up with his wayward hands, my hot cheeks, kiss-swollen lips.
Then he shook his head, tearing his gaze away. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later, Maccie.”
He turned and jogged down the path toward the main house. Halfway there, he glanced back.
I was still standing exactly where he’d left me.
And I was smiling.
I touched my mouth again, warmth blooming through me.
Yeah.
Definitely not a one-time thing.