Page 26 of Captivated (Salvation #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Zeeb opened his eyes and blinked.

Something is different.

Then he caught the sound of steady breathing. A weight on his chest. Warmth. His arm around someone.

Nate.

And it was morning.

He moved his head in increments, afraid of disturbing Nate’s sleep. He lay beneath the sheet, snuggled against Zeeb’s side, his hand on Zeeb’s stomach, his head on Zeeb’s chest.

Would you look at that.

Somehow in his sleep, Nate had sought out Zeeb, and Zeeb had put his arm around him, pulling him close. Nate’s face was almost serene, caught in a world where no nightmares pursued him, no trace of the confusion and pain from the night before.

Fuck, he’s beautiful. Not a word Zeeb generally applied to a guy, but hell, it was the only one that did Nate justice.

When he realized he was holding his breath, he knew he had to do something, even though it pained him to wake Nate from his undisturbed slumber.

He gave Nate a gentle nudge. “Hey.”

Nate stirred and stretched. He gave a sleepy smile. “Hey.” Then he widened his eyes and sat up, more alert. “Oh.”

Zeeb sat up too, keeping his hands to himself, even though his fingers itched to brush the hair back from Nate’s forehead. “I guess both of us were pretty wiped out. I slept the whole night through.” A thing he hadn’t done in a while.

Nate took a breath. “Me too.”

He seemed different in the morning light. Softer, somehow. His eyes were less guarded, his edges not quite as sharp. And the wary expression Zeeb was so used to seeing had been replaced by curiosity.

Like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t bracing for impact anymore.

There was a vulnerability to him, something that made Zeeb’s chest ache. He wanted to hold Nate the way he’d done the previous evening, to surround him with strength.

To let Nate know he wasn’t alone.

Zeeb could’ve stayed on that bed for hours, the sunlight pouring in through the small window, warming his skin, but he knew that wasn’t an option.

He got up and scraped his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know about you, but I need coffee.

” A buzz came from below, and he cocked his head.

“Whose phone is that—yours or mine?” He hurried down the stairs to where the two phones sat on the coffee table, and glanced at them. “It’s yours.”

A moment later, Nate followed, still in his boxers, clutching his jeans. Zeeb waited until Nate had squirmed into them before handing over the phone, then retreated into the kitchen area to deal with the coffeepot.

“It’s from my dad,” Nate announced. He opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

Zeeb filled the reservoir, then pulled the coffee from the cabinet and spooned it into the filter paper. He braced his arms against the countertop, head bowed, aware of Nate’s voice outside but not trying to listen, because Nate had clearly wanted a little privacy.

What he couldn’t shake was the feeling of contentment he’d experienced upon waking to find Nate in his arms. It had felt…

Good.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Nate couldn’t miss the note of concern. “I’m fine. I actually slept all night.”

He had a feeling that had been due to his unexpected bedmate.

“Oh, that’s good. Have you spoken with anyone at the ranch about what happened? I only gave Robert the bare facts.”

Nate glanced toward the door. He could hear Zeeb moving about inside.

“I told Zeeb about the camp, about Mark… I didn’t go into much detail either, but…” He paused. “I had another nightmare last night. Zeeb… helped me get some sleep.” When Dad fell silent, Nate frowned. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here. And I’m glad you trusted Zeeb enough to share with him. I said he was a good man, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

And last night he was a rock to cling to.

“So what are your plans for today?”

“Ride, draw… breathe.”

And maybe talk.

Except there was no maybe about it. Now he’d gotten the ball rolling, Nate didn’t want to lose momentum. Because once he’d said it all, there’d be no need to say it again.

His stomach growled, and Nate realized how empty it was.

Not surprising. I hardly touched my supper.

Come to think of it, neither had Zeeb.

“I heard that.” Dad chuckled. “I think the first order of business is for you to find some breakfast. I’ll call you again in a day or so.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Nate told him. “Besides, I’ll be home on Saturday.”

A prospect that tore at him. Home to his sanctuary, but far from Salvation, a place that was starting to feel comfortable.

Safe.

“You obviously feel you’re getting something out of the experience. Otherwise you wouldn’t have driven all the way to Montana.”

Nate couldn’t point to one thing that had drawn him back to the ranch: it was a number of factors. “You were right. This place is good for me.” Another protestation from his grumbling belly brought the conversation to an end. “See you on Saturday.”

“Nate?”

“Yes?”

There was a pause. “I love you, son.”

His throat seized. He could hear that love in his dad’s voice. “Love you too.” He hung up, then gazed at the creek and the meadow beyond.

It’s a new day.

And it was time for the new Nate to take another step out of his comfort zone.

The front door opened, and Zeeb came out carrying two cups. “Here you go.”

Nate took his, sniffing the aroma. “I feel bad about the cookout, disappearing like that.”

“Hey, no one said a word,” Zeeb remonstrated.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Nate took a sip. “So…” His heart raced. “Do you think there’s room at the bunkhouse table for another body this morning?”

Zeeb blinked. “You wanna have breakfast with the rest of us? Because you don’t have to. I can go grab you something.”

His pulse quickened. “I think I should try, even if it’s only the once.”

Zeeb’s eyes gleamed. “No one can say you don’t have guts. Sure. Drink your coffee, and I’ll call Matt and tell him we’re gonna have another guest.” His warm smile settled on Nate, gentle as the morning light.

I can do this.

It was fast becoming Nate’s mantra.

“And after breakfast, can we go for a ride? Not to the lake this time, but somewhere closer to home.” His heart hammered. “Because there are still things I need to tell you.”

“You don’t have to.” Zeeb’s voice was soft.

Nate straightened. “Yes, I do.” He took another sip. “By the way, you make great coffee.”

Zeeb chuckled. “I also make a mean omelet.”

“Then the next time you stay over, you’ll have to make one for me.”

Zeeb stilled, his gaze locked on Nate. “Is there gonna be a next time?”

Nate couldn’t bring himself to utter the words right there on the tip of his tongue.

If having you near me all night means I get to sleep like a log, I’d ask you to stay every night until I leave.

He shrugged. “Who knows?”

All he knew was he’d woken up feeling safe, secure—cared for—and it was a feeling he was hungry to experience again. And deep down he knew Zeeb would stay if Nate asked him.

Zeeb paused at the bunkhouse door. “You sure about this?”

Nate chuckled. “I’m starving, and that means I’m going in.”

His forced humor didn’t fool Zeeb for an instant.

He brought his hand to Nate’s back. “You heard me cuss a few days ago, remember?” Nate nodded, and Zeeb grinned. “Well, what you’re about to hear is just like that—only a lot more of it. But under all that swearin’ ‘n’ banter, these guys have all got hearts of gold.”

Nate drew in a deep breath. “Then introduce me to them.”

Zeeb rubbed Nate’s back in a slow circle. “You got this.” He pushed the door open and led the way inside.

“You’re too late, it’s all gone. That’s what you get for—” Butch gaped when he caught sight of Nate. “Well, good morning.” He glared at Matt. “What are you waiting for, the Rapture? These guys need feeding.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “You know, I think I prefer you those mornings when Sol fucks you into the mattress. All you do then is grin. Well-fucked Butch is way more fun than Cranky Butch.” His eyes gleamed. “Or should that be Cranky Bitch?”

Beside Zeeb, Nate stifled a gasp, then burst into laughter.

Matt stood. “I kept yours warm. Take a seat and I’ll dish it up.” He headed for the kitchen.

Zeeb was surprised to realize how on edge he was.

They won’t bite, honest.

It wasn’t until that moment he realized how badly he wanted Nate to succeed.

Nate glanced around the table. “Morning,” he said with a nod, his gaze alighting on Dave. “By the way, I’m sorry for disappearing the way I did the other evening.”

Teague chuckled. “I was surprised you stuck it out that long. I only hang around with this bunch of bastards because I have to.” His eyes twinkled.

Nate laughed, and this time it wasn’t forced.

“Was it my fault you left?” Dave’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. Ever since then I’ve had the feeling I ruined the night with my inappropriate ramblings. I was just so angry.”

Nate took a seat and Zeeb poured them both some coffee. He sat in the chair next to Nate’s.

Nate took a deep breath. “Actually? I’m glad you brought it up. That guy you were talking about? Mark Omerod?” His cheeks were flushed.

Zeeb froze, his heart pounding. He’s not gonna ?—

Dave nodded. “I guess it was just the shock of reading his obituary. Knowing him as a kid and all…”

Nate swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “You were right, by the way. He was a sweet guy. And I also agree with what you said about his parents. They have a lot to answer for.”

Under the table, Zeeb reached for Nate’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

You are one brave man.

Dave blinked. “You… you knew him too?”

Nate nodded. “I met him in circumstances I don’t want to describe. Mark? He was a bright light in that foul darkness.” He shuddered. “Now it’s my turn to apologize for ruining your breakfast.”

Butch stared at him. “Well, I’ll be…” His gaze grew warm. “You ain’t ruined nothing, Nate. In fact, I’m glad you could join us this morning. An’ I hope to see more of you before you leave.”

The door opened, and Sol entered. He stilled when he saw Nate, but recovered quickly enough to greet everyone. He went over to where Butch sat, and stroked his nape.

“You got room for me at this table?”

Butch smiled. “Always.” He poured Sol some coffee.

Zeeb had a feeling Sol’s appearance was no coincidence. He glanced at Nate to see how he was dealing, and to his relief Nate seemed calm.

Then Zeeb realized he was still holding Nate’s hand.

He released it, and reached for his coffee. Nate gave him a slight smile and mouthed Thank you .

Zeeb felt about ten feet tall.

Matt came back with more food, and Nate attacked it with gusto.

Butch snickered. “Nate, why don’t you quit tryin’ to eat that breakfast an’ just inhale it? You know, get the job done faster.”

Nate swallowed. “But if I do it that way, I miss out on tasting it.” He pointed to the home fries. “These are the best I’ve ever tasted. No wonder my dad puts on a few pounds every time he stays here.”

“If you like, I’ll show you how I make them,” Matt suggested. “Then you can make them for Derek.”

Nate chuckled. “I don’t think his waistline would thank me.” He glanced at Zeeb, his eyes sparkling. “If you’re not going to eat yours, I might steal them from you.”

Zeeb picked up his fork. “You steal so much as one of my fries, an’ you lose a finger.” He grinned. “But I’ll make sure it’s on the hand that doesn’t hold a paintbrush.”

Nate laughed and resumed eating.

Zeeb wanted to cheer, to fist-pump the air.

Man, they really nailed it in that song.

What a difference a day makes.

Whatever Nate had gone through during his unscheduled trip to Oregon, it had propelled him through a doorway, and Zeeb was going to make it his mission to help Nate keep going forward.

He gazed at Nate, noting the rise and fall of his chest, the tremor in his hand as he reached for more bacon.

You ain’t out of the woods yet, are you?

But he was leaving that foul darkness behind him.

Zeeb would see to that.