Page 157 of Captivated
Teague shrugged. “I’m just telling you what he said. He also says he’ll be here for it.”
“That makes sense,” Nate remarked. Zeeb glanced at him, and he sighed too. “It would take his mind—and ours—off Toby. Not that we’re going to stop thinking about him, but we need a break.”
Teague stood. “I assume you’re going to be on Nate’s couch. I think you slept at the cabin damn near every night of Nate’s last week here. So this’ll be just a rerun.”
That twinkle in Teague’s eyes told Nate maybe Teague didn’t believe that for a second.
“Matt’ll have your food ready for Nate to collect.” Teague peered at Nate. “Unless you want to cook for the two of you. If that’s the case, just give Matt a grocery list, and he’ll sort it for you.”
“I like the idea of cooking.” Nate caught Zeeb’s sharp intake of breath, and glanced at him. “Icancook, you know.”
Teague snickered. “I’m gonna leave you two to fight it out.” He put his hat back on. “If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you at the Saturday night supper.” Then he smiled. “Talk about role reversal. You looked after Nate when he stayed here. Now he’sgoing to look after you.” He gave Nate a nod, then left the bunkhouse.
“Tell me what you want to bring to the cabin, and I’ll put it all together.” Nate stood and went over to the bunks. “Where do you keep your clothes?” When there was no reply, he turned to look at Zeeb. “Are you all right?”
Zeeb frowned. “You don’t mind me stayin’ at the cabin?”
Nate walked slowly back to where Zeeb sat. “Why on earth would I mind? I get to have you close to me. And you don’treallythink you’re going to be sleeping on the couch, do you?”
That flush rising up Zeeb’s neck was answer enough.
Zeeb stared at him. “You came back.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Nate smiled. “Because I couldn’t stay away. Because every night I wasn’t here, I thought about you. Wondering if you felt the same. Wondering if I imagined the way you looked at me that last day.”
Zeeb’s jaw clenched. “You didn’t imagine it.”
The silence that followed was rich with the promise of what could be.
A promise Nate wanted to explore.
“I thought I could ignore it,” Zeeb said at last, his voice low. “I thought if I kept my head down, kept working, it’d go away. Only it didn’t. If anything, it got worse. Then you showed up at the hospital and I forgot how to breathe.”
Nate let out a shaky laugh. “I’ve been losing sleep over you too.” He swallowed, his pulse quickening. “I’ve been trying not to say something because the timing wasn’t right, what with you in this state. It was more than that, though. I didn’t want to screw things up.” Another hard swallow. “But I can’t do it anymore.”
Zeeb’s breathing caught, and Nate sat beside him on the couch, so close their thighs were touching.
“I’m not good at this.” Zeeb’s gaze flicked to Nate’s mouth, then back up to his face. “I’m not good with words.”
DearLord, Nate’s heart was pounding. “Then don’t use them. You—we—don’t need them.”
Zeeb reached out but stopped just short of touching him. His hand hovered over Nate’s chest, as though he wasn’t sure he had the right.
“You’re here.” The awe in Zeeb’s voice unraveled him a little. “You’re really here.”
“I am.”
And the space between them, that electric thread, was about to snap.
Zeeb brushed the back of his fingers down Nate’s jaw, his touch featherlight. Nate closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths.
“Okay?” Zeeb asked.
“Yes.” The word slid from his lips in a whisper.
