Page 25 of The Cinnamon Spice Inn (Maple Falls #1)

EIGHTEEN

ZACH

Zach woke up this morning feeling like he had spent the night wrestling an alligator—and lost. His body ached, not from doing anything physical but from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself in check.

Last night had been brutal. He hadn’t been able to sleep, not with the taste of Madison still on his lips, not with the memory of her pressed up against him like she belonged there.

He had lain awake for hours, staring at the wooden ceiling of the honeymoon cabin, his mind refusing to stop replaying every glorious second.

The way she smiled with those dimples of hers, the fierce expression in her eyes, the way she had teased and taunted him. It was all a test—the pool game, the bet, everything—and Zach couldn’t believe how badly he’d failed.

Now he knew that in a parallel universe, if he’d never gone to the tavern and got drunk that night, or if Madison had just waited a little longer and seen him push that girl away, things might have worked out differently.

Maybe they’d even still be together now.

But what happened happened; there was no point digging it all up again.

That way would only lead to heartbreak for both of them.

They weren’t the same people they used to be.

Six years had passed since they were a couple.

She was a New Yorker. His life was here.

Where he wanted it to be. And she was only passing through town.

If he let himself believe, even for a second, that she would stay or that there was a chance they could somehow make it work this time, there was a very good chance he’d be setting himself up for a world of pain, all over again. This time, Zach wasn’t sure he could survive.

Plus, she had someone back in New York, didn’t she?

“And how is your lovely Jo?” Edith had asked.

“Misses me,” Madison had replied—or something like that.

Zach didn’t know the details, obviously, but there was something there between the two.

Maybe he was being a coward. Maybe he should fight for her.

Tell her how badly he still wanted her, needed her.

But when it came to Madison, Zach knew better than to trust what he wanted over what he knew was true: She didn’t stay, and she wasn’t built for small-town life.

She was made for bigger things—for bright lights and city streets.

Zach was just a slow-living kind of guy with rough hands and a pickup truck who could fix a roof and run a mile without stopping. He couldn’t give her the life she deserved.

Still, here he was, standing shirtless in the cold morning air, hoping some fresh air would shock her out of his system.

It wasn’t working. Not when she had been in his head all night. The feel of her against the brick wall, the taste of her mouth, the way she fit into his arms like a piece of him he hadn’t realized was missing until she slid back into place.

Zach exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. He needed to get her out of his head.

Today was opening weekend at Liam’s pumpkin patch.

It wasn’t Zach’s normal scene, every family in town would be there, but Zach knew Liam couldn’t do it on his own.

Even with his family and the extra farmhands, he needed help.

Liam’s twin, Jackson, would be home soon, but he wasn’t here yet.

Helping Liam would keep Zach busy too, and he needed to keep his mind occupied.

It was a solid plan until he looked up and saw Madison jogging through the trees toward him, looking down at the leaves crunching under her sneakers.

Then she looked up and stopped frozen just a few feet away, her chest rising and falling as she regulated her breath.

Her cheeks were flushed and some stray wild curls had slipped out from under that ridiculous orange beanie.

Her black leggings hugged her thighs and he swallowed, already hard for her.

He should’ve said nothing. But the invitation that fell onto his tongue seemed like the most natural thing in the world, like the script had already been written. His voice came rough and low. “Got a fresh pot of strong coffee on, if you want. Freshly ground.”

Madison’s dragon-green eyes blinked, startled. Zach hated himself for how badly he wanted her to say yes.

“Raw sugar. Fresh cream,” he added, hoping she remembered the special way he used to make it for her. Would she still want it that way? How much had she changed?

For half a heartbeat, she hesitated. He saw the way her fingers curled into her sleeves, the way her body tilted almost imperceptibly toward him.

God, he could already see it. Her standing near his bed in the cabin, cradling a mug in both hands, leaning against the counter like she used to lean against his truck. She was warm, familiar, his.

He remembered the times they had spent in this cabin all too well.

Remembered holding her on the couch, her head resting against his bare chest. Or the way she’d unbutton her shirt, daring him with nothing more than a glance.

And he would go to her. He’d slide his hands up her thighs, tug that flannel higher until it was bunched around her waist. And lift her onto the counter with a low growl against her throat, tasting her skin, feeling her breath catch as she squeezed her legs around him and he slid into her, slow and deep.

Zach swore under his breath and shoved his hands into his pockets.

None of that mattered now. Their relationship was in the past. He could want her all he wanted. She was no longer his.

Madison shifted her weight from foot to foot. For a second, Zach thought maybe she’d say yes. Maybe she’d step closer, cross the distance. Then everything would fall apart, or maybe finally fall into place.

Instead, she gave him a tight smile. “Thanks,” she said, breathless. “But I should get going. Lots to do at the inn.”

Zach swallowed the disappointment like a shot of whiskey.

He watched her turn and head toward the Cinnamon Spice Inn. He had to force his feet to stay rooted to the spot. But even as she ran away, Zach swore he could still feel her there. As if in another dimension, she’d stayed.