Chapter Eleven
Zachary
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Gaston and Felicia were very good at entertaining. They shared stories about what dinner and lunchtime looked like during camp season, how crazy and loud it all was. They loved the joy they brought to the kids’ faces and the restoration that the peacefulness of the ranch gave to the veterans still fighting their demons from war.
Grace seemed to relax, too—especially after the second glass of brandy. Then again, we’d had enough food and pie that we could down a whole bottle and I doubted anyone would get even tipsy. I kept wondering why she’d so quickly shut down the idea of both of us supporting this project. It seemed almost like instinct, as if the alternative simply wasn’t thinkable. I didn’t even think it was because she’d be collaborating with me; it was more that she couldn’t give up control to anyone. I wanted to get to the root of it, but I didn’t want to bring it up now in front of Gaston and Felicia. I’d have plenty of time to address it later.
“Right, I think it’s time for you two to go to the cabin,” Felicia said. “The rain has eased up a bit, but who knows for how long? I think you can make it there just with an umbrella.”
Grace yawned. “That would be amazing. I’m actually pretty tired.”
“No wonder,” Gaston exclaimed, pointing to the grandfather clock opposite him. It was almost midnight.
“There are fresh towels there,” Felicia said. “My sister was supposed to visit, so I put them there for her. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pajamas or anything like that to give you.”
“We’ll manage,” I told her confidently.
“The couch is comfortable enough but not very big,” Felicia commented.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said. “Which cabin is it?”
She gave us a key with the number 14 and pointed to the right. “It’s the first one you see there. It’s the one that’s in the best condition. You can’t possibly miss it. If you need anything, please call.”
Three lightning bolts flashed in the sky. Thunder cracked soon after.
“You’d better be quick. I have a feeling it’s going to start pouring again,” Felicia said.
“You’re right,” Grace replied as we left the house.
She walked in front of me at a quick pace. There was mud everywhere. Even the air smelled cold. I quickly unlocked the door when we reached the cabin, and we both closed the umbrellas before stepping in. Grace immediately turned on the light, and I barely bit back a groan.
“Oh my. This place is much, much smaller than I imagined,” she said.
The couch was tiny. I was certain that even after pulling it out, I wasn’t going to fit. The entire place was downright claustrophobic. The bedroom was just off the main room. There was no door to separate them.
Grace bit her cheek, turning slightly toward me. As we chucked our shoes at the door, she offered, “You take the bedroom.”
“What?”
“Zachary, you can’t sleep here. Look at this couch.”
“Then I’ll sleep on the floor, Grace, but you’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“You’re going to be awake the whole night, tossing and turning.”
“I’ll manage.”
She curled her lip up and smiled. “Yeah, but then I’ll hear you from the bedroom, which has no door. Then I won’t be able to sleep either.”
“And you can manage that?” I teased.
“Considering you’re willing to break your back, I could risk a night of bad sleep because I’ll hear you complain about it. Let’s ask if any other cabin is inhabitable. I don’t need much.”
“Grace, you saw the other cabins. They’re teardowns.”
Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. So, you’re okay with this?”
I was not fucking okay. But if there was one thing I’d learned, it was to make the best of circumstances. Complaining about something wasn’t going to make it better, and I couldn’t find a solution this late at night. Driving back to New Orleans was completely out of the question.
“Yes. Do you want to shower first?” I asked.
“I was just going to suggest that.”
She walked away so quickly that it made me think my presence was unnerving her.
“Grace, I can sleep in the car if it makes you feel better,” I suggested.
That would be even shittier than the couch, but I didn’t want her to have to put up with this if it made her uncomfortable. That was the last thing I wanted to do after what she’d revealed about her ex.
She turned around. “What? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s going to be fine. I’ll pretend you’re not here.”
I started to laugh despite myself. “And why is that?”
“Because it’s the first time I’m sharing sleeping quarters with a man who’s not my husband.”
“Grace...”
She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I said that...”
I couldn’t stand not being close to her, so I took a few steps forward. I wanted to look her in the eye, so I bent my knees until I was eye level with her.
She smiled. “You don’t have to do that. I can look up.”
I straightened up, and she wasn’t averting her gaze anymore.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t.”
“Just try me.”
“I’d like two beds here.”
“No, you’re right. I can’t make that happen.”
She winked at me, which meant she was more at ease. “See? I’m going to take a shower.”
“Fine, I’ll set up the sofa bed.”
After Grace closed the door to the bathroom, I set the couch cushions in the corner of the room and wrangled the rickety frame out of its enclosure. When I finally got it open, I took one look at it and knew there was no way I could fit. I tested my theory, lying down on it. My feet hung off the bed. I angled myself, thinking that might give me more room—nope. To make matters worse, it was hard as a rock. Maybe the floor would be better.
Whatever, I’d just have to power through.
Grace was taking her sweet time in the shower, which was fine with me. I found some linens in a dresser next to the TV and plenty of blankets. I put everything I needed on the sofa bed, including three pillows, although I couldn’t see how that would make things any better. At least it was just going to be one night.
Grace came out a few seconds later, fully dressed, then gasped.
“Zachary. Oh, come on.” Her eyes focused on the couch. Clearly she was seeing the same problem I was. “That’s... I don’t even think you can fit diagonally on it.”
“I can’t. I tried. Don’t worry, I’ve had worse.”
She cocked a brow. “Really?”
“No, I just wanted to make it sound better.”
“Well, Mr. Smooth Talker, jump in the shower. It takes forever for the water to get warm, and I think it still is, so don’t waste too much time.”
“I’m on it,” I said, heading toward the bathroom.
While I showered, I kept thinking about how this could work out. I wanted to be involved in the ranch, but I knew Grace did too. I had to get to the bottom of why she couldn’t see us working together. We’d apologized, and I thought we’d cleared the air. She knew I meant her no harm, especially after our swim in the river. Maybe she still thought I was an asshole.
I came out with the intention of addressing this, then nearly swallowed my tongue because Grace was lying down on the couch with the covers up to her chin.
“I’ve decided this is my spot,” she said. “I already made the bed, but this is comfier, and I’m small. I fit on it perfectly, see?”
I noticed her head was on one of the pillows and her toes were peeking up from under the covers. She’d painted her nails red, and I liked it.
“Grace,” I said carefully.
“Nope. Really, I won’t hear anything different. Bed is yours. I’ll sleep here. I won’t toss and turn. And even if I do, I checked, and it doesn’t creak. I guess that’s a perk. The only one I can think of,” she rambled.
I walked over to the edge of the sofa bed where she was lying. “You’re not sleeping here.”
“Yes, I am. It’s decided.”
I bent over her, looking her straight in the eye. “You are not sleeping here.”
“What are you going to do to stop me?”
I reached out for her with one arm, lifting her off the bed. With the other, I grabbed the blanket she was clinging to for dear life, but that wasn’t going to help her case. I carried her and the blanket toward the bedroom.
“Zachary.” She sounded frantic. “Zachary, you’re...”
It took me a few seconds to realize why she was frantic. Grace wasn’t wearing her jeans anymore. And she either had the world’s tiniest underwear or she wasn’t wearing them either. My hands were firmly gripping her naked ass cheeks.
I groaned as my cock stood to attention. I’d gotten hard so fast, it was damn painful. I felt as if I was going to burst out of my jeans.
“What the fuck, Grace,” I said, lowering her onto the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“I tried to warn you.”
Her face was reddening as she scrambled to pull the covers around her, but she only managed to push them away completely. She was wearing black panties and her T-shirt from before. No bra. Those nipples... Christ. I’d been fixating on them ever since we’d gotten caught in the rain coming back from the stables the first time. I’d been able to push the image out of my mind during dinner, but now it was going to be impossible.
“Ugh, why can’t I get this blanket to cover me?”
I tugged at the blanket, intending to help, but accidentally brushed her thigh. Her skin instantly turned to goose bumps. She drew in a sharp breath, and I stilled completely. She pressed her thighs together, and I knew exactly what that meant. Even the small contact had excited her.
“Grace...”
“Zachary, I...”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I put a knee on the bed, between her feet. She instantly opened her thighs invitingly. I lost all sense of decency and kissed her so fiercely that she lost her balance. Somehow, I needed her even more than last time.