Page 94 of Zorro

There was no teasing, no slow burn, just need. Raw and soul-deep. His hands cupped her face like she was the only thing in the world worth holding, and her fingers tightened into his shirt, fisting tight like she needed him to keep her from falling apart again.

Her mouth opened under his, welcoming him like she’d always been his to claim.

When he kissed her deeper, tongue sliding against hers, slow and searching, she made a sound in her throat that undid him completely.

Zorro pulled her closer, as close as two people could get without becoming one.

He kissed her like a man who’d been starving, and Everly kissed him like a woman who’d finally understood the meaning of no longer being alone.

“Dinner tonight.” He cupped the back of her head as she cried harder. “Skinny dipping, I believe, is on the dessert menu. Dress accordingly.”

She huffed out a laugh and slipped her arms around his neck and held him tighter. “Tears and laughter. You know how to show a girl a good time.”

He separated them just enough to look into those shining eyes filled with something that made his heart beat a little faster. “Just wait until tonight. I have a whole modeling session featuring me, some decadent panties, and a scrap of khaki that won’t take more than a second to remove.”

14

Zorro had completely disarmed her. The sound of his voice had stopped her dead in her tracks. That was a man who wasn’t just giving lip service to building something between them. That was her alpha. Her warrior. Her healer. Her beloved.

She needed caffeine. Immediately.

Her body felt…used. In the best way. A warm ache still lingered between her thighs, her skin still prickled where Zorro’s hands had mapped her, and her mouth, her mouth still remembered his name in a way that felt holy.

She wasn’t herself today.

Or maybe, she was.

Just not the woman she used to be.

Once she had been all edges and ice, wrapped in sterile routines and weaponized detachment. She didn’t let people in. She certainly didn’t wake up yearning to touch someone again, to hear his voice, to feel seen.

Now, all she wanted was for the day to end so she could have that sweet, sensual date with him, and crawl into bed beside the man who had demolished her with steady strength, quiet dominance, and that goddamned smirk. Seducing her with tears and laughter and confessions that felt like a weight being lifted all over again. The guilt she'd buried as recently as this morning was being systematically eradicated by a man who knew exactly how to kill her demons.

This man. Her disaster. Her miracle.

She sighed and stepped into line at the café kiosk, rubbing one temple as the scent of espresso and desperation filled the air.

There was a woman near the front, tall and sun-warmed, with a slow, easy smile and wild curls swept back in a knot. She was handing out tiny cups of something dark and fragrant.

“Sample?” she asked, offering one to Everly.

Everly blinked. Took the cup.

Lifted it to her lips.

Oh. Oh, God.

The flavor hit like silk and smoke, rich and impossibly smooth, with a hint of spice at the back of her tongue.

She closed her eyes. “What…is this coffee alchemy…this witchcraft of flavor?”

The woman smiled wider, her eyes brightening with pride. “Try this. My specialty roast, Costa Rican Oro. It’s inspired by my family plantation in Costa Rica, La Buena Tierra Plantación.” Everly took another sip, translating the name into English, the Good Earth. “I roast it myself, adding hints of dark chocolate and spice. My husband swears it’s too strong, but he drinks it anyway and pretends he’s not hopelessly addicted.”

She set down the steaming mug, the rich mocha notes mingling enticingly with the smooth, deep aroma that filled the air. “Our family’s been producing coffee since 1808. Maybe you’ve heard of our brand, the Golden Grain. We have several cafés all over the world, with several in San Diego, but my heart is still back home in the roasting shed, wood, stone, and the magic of turning raw beans into perfection.”

She smiled again, warmly now, full of quiet confidence. “Maritza, owner’s daughter, head roaster, and manager. Welcome to the Golden Grain experience.”

Everly laughed. “I can see why your husband is addicted. Can I get this online?”