Page 6 of Restored by the Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #3)

EZRA

M y eyes track the crack on the ceiling, counting breaths, only, not due to a nightmare this time. I dreamt of her. Zoe.

Sighing, I run my hand down my face, desperately wanting to erase how fucking real it felt.

We were in my office again, almost identical to Monday, but this time, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it up over her body.

Her hands wrapped around my waist, and I swear I remember the heat of her body against mine.

I saw the bottom of her full, bare breasts peeking out before I woke.

And now, guilt eats at me.

Liz’s face, faded as it has become, watches me from a distance in my mind. People whisper when they think I’m not around about how it’s been three years, it’s okay to move on.

I don’t deserve to move on. Ever. Which means, these damn reactions to Zoe Diaz need to stop.

Pouring my morning black brew, my phone chimes. I open my emails, leaning against the kitchen counter, facing the double French doors leading to the backyard. The one that just came in has me straightening up and scrolling.

From: [email protected]

To: Ezra.Hunter@hunterdistillerycom

Sent: Thu 6:25 am

Subject: Wild Farms - Hunter Distillery contract

Ezra,

Hope this email finds you well. Veronica and I were reviewing numbers and planning for the next quarter.

We’ve supplied some amazing distilleries throughout the years.

We’re ready to take Wild Farms to the next generation, and what we have always admired about your family’s business is the integrity and innovation you bring along with genuine passion.

I know I’ve been stringing you along these last two years. I also know this is extremely last-minute, but I’d like to invite you this weekend to the farm. We’d love to give you an official tour and share our plans for the upcoming year.

Feel free to bring any staff member needed to test out the grain. Veronica insists on hosting you for dinner. We’ll have accommodations taken care of.

Let me know if this is plausible.

Look forward to hearing back.

Bests,

Francisco

Eagerly, I hit reply and accept the offer to meet up this weekend. I don’t have to think twice. Wild Earth Farms is four hours east and the second-largest grain farm on the West Coast. I’ve had my eye on partnering with them for the last couple of years.

Nash will be over the moon when I tell him.

Feel free to bring any staff member needed…

Of course, Zoe instantly comes to mind but that would be the dumbest thing I could do. I wouldn’t survive a weekend away with her.

I drive over to the distillery, drop off my stuff at the office, and start my rounds. My gut twists with anticipation at the idea of running into her.

I’ve been avoiding her for the last three days. That’s not entirely true. I’ve caught myself watching from afar, seeing as she laughs with Cynthia, is kind to the staff, and taste tests Ansel’s creations with enthusiasm.

She’s only been here since Monday, and already she’s thriving.

Like a moth to a flame, I stayed behind last night when I saw she was working late after everyone left.

It was mesmerizing to see how gracefully her slender fingers, with painted tips in a deep purple, used the barrel thief to insert and extract the blend.

She carefully poured the selections into her tulip glass.

Her cute focus as she analyzed the color, aroma, and the legs before sipping reverently. Her eyes closed on an exhale.

I wanted to taste the whiskey on her tongue.

That’s when I got the fuck out of there.

But it’s time. I have to face her at some point. Passing her office, I don’t find her there. I head to speak with Gus when I turn the corner and what I see has my body tense.

Alex is leaning on the wall, laughing at something Zoe is saying. I size up my Warehouse Manager, with his blonde waves almost at his shoulders, taller than Zoe but not as tall as me. His stance is relaxed, flirtatious.

Something takes over, and my feet march over to where they stand. Zoe notices me before the fucker does. Her eyes widen in surprise before they soften with a smile.

Damn. That causes my steps to falter. A tickling warmth bubbles up to my chest.

“Ezra,” she greets.

Alex turns his head. “Hey, boss. Nice to see you around.”

“I’m always around,” I deadpan, letting the silence linger before I ask him, “Where’s the inventory list for this week?”

He blinks a few times before straightening. “I told Brenda I’d have the final list tomorrow.”

“Am I supposed to wait for Brenda to send those over? Seems more efficient to have those sent directly to me.”

What the fuck am I saying? I’ve never had an issue going through Brenda each week. I almost prefer it. Alex grates on my nerves. His confusion is evident as his eyes bounce between me and Zoe, who stands calmly, watching the interaction.

Zoe chimes in, and I hate the satisfaction I feel immediately at her subtle body language that leans closer to me, away from Alex. “I wanted to discuss some additions to SOPs. I believe if we can implement them, they could benefit the flow of production before the holidays.”

Alex takes a step closer to her and lowers his voice. “You available for lunch? I’d love your take on–,”

“She’s not.” My voice leaves no room for discussion. Both of them study me, waiting. Ignoring him, I turn to her. “Wild Earth Farms contacted me. I need you to accompany me this weekend. If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss it.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. Now is perfect. Shall we?”

I almost grin seeing Alex’s slight frustration at both of our dismissals.

Instinct has my hand settle at the base of her back, walking us past a stunned Alex.

The temptation to glare at him in passing stuns me.

But the feel of her body, coming through the silk blouse tucked into her wide-legged slacks, has my focus.

She hasn’t pulled away. If I’m not mistaken, she practically leans into my touch.

Shit, I’m in trouble.

Closing my office door behind us, I motion to the couch across the room from my desk. She demurely sits on one end. I sit on the other. She patiently waits for me to guide this.

Clearing my throat, I turn my body toward hers. “Francisco’s family has owned Wild Earth for three generations.”

“Their reputation is stellar,” she says, her enthusiasm building. “Small town, loyal neighbors. Laurel and I have wanted to go to their infamous seasonal festivals. Isn’t their Fall one coming up?”

“I believe so. This weekend is extremely important. I value integrity, and this family farm has it in spades. I need our QA with me to assess the production, test the grain, and together, we finalize the deal.” This is a big ask.

Technically, I could take Nash with me. I don’t need a Quality Assurance manager with me.

But I've committed to this. Gotta see it through. Part of me hopes she turns me down.

“I’m honored to be trusted so soon with such a huge decision. Who else would be coming?” she asks.

Shit.

“Just you and me.” Silence swells. “Separate rooms. Strictly a business trip. We’d head out Saturday morning. Five am. I’d pick you up.”

“I have my rental–,” she begins.

“Waste of gas. Taking two cars for a four-hour trip. Two nights. We head back to Eden Ridge Monday morning. You’ll have the rest of the day off.”

The more word vomit spews from my mouth, the greater the anxiety. Glutton for punishment, it seems. Or maybe, I want to prove this energy between us isn’t real. A business trip will quickly evaporate the novelty of being around her. And I can get back to my predictable existence.

“Alright.” She sits up. “I’m game. If you could send me the details regarding the merger, I’ll prepare a presentation mapping out expectations and regulations. Would it be alright to contact their offices to gather what we need?”

Why did she have to stir my mind and body?

I’d hate for this to get so out of control, and I end up firing her like a coward to escape her because she’s so damn good.

Those deep brown eyes spark to life when she’s passionate.

Her full lips, slightly glossed with some tint, part as her fingers fly over her tablet, marking notes.

The impulse to grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss overwhelms me. I abruptly stand and walk over to lean against my desk. Distance.

Her hand hovers over her tablet as she watches me. A question in her expression.

“Have Cynthia give you access to anything you need. You’re free to contact Wild Farms. I trust you.” I didn't mean to say that, but it's true.

Her smile lights up this whole damn room. It’s uncomfortable, but you want to soak in it because you know once the initial sting fades, it’ll feel real good.

Standing, she holds the tablet against her chest. “Alright, boss. I’ll email you by end of day.” She turns to leave but hesitates before facing me again. “Have you ever been?”

“To Wild Farms? Yes.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Their Fall festival?”

Once. Fuck.

Eight years ago. The memory hits like a blazing poker stick, cauterizing an open wound.

My body heavily leans on the desk behind me.

My name echoes. Her husky whisper tries to reach me, but it blends with hints of Elizabeth’s voice.

Elizabeth, picking up a large rustic orange leaf the size of her head, laughing.

“Ezra,” Zoe whispers, her hand gently on my forearm as my body is slammed back to earth.

I jolt, hardening my body.

Zoe’s wide eyes study me as fury burns every nerve ending, but she doesn’t cower. She steps closer, that hand, feeling how tense I am, caressing my skin with her thumb.

“It comes out of nowhere. A word. A scent. A random object,” she continues, whispering. “Deep breaths. Ground yourself back to the now. Where are you?”

I’m hearing her words, but my mind still feels like sludge.

She looks around the room, still close, still touching me. “Where are you? Right now? Be specific.”

“My office,” I grunt.