Page 180 of Captivated
Nate didn’t smile, but the tension in his shoulders bled away, and the slow exhale that shuddered out of him told Zeeb it mattered more than he was ready to say.
“I don’t want to rush it,” Zeeb continued. “If we do this, we do it right.” He gazed at Nate, his stomach clenching. “I’m gonna ask things that might hurt. You know that, right?”
He nodded. “I want you to.” He managed a half smile. “If it hurts, it’s real.” Then he went back to stroking Sorrel, communing with him.
Zeeb thought for a moment before removing his phone from his pocket. He opened a doc and typed a single word at the top of the page.
Nate.
Below it, he wrote:This is not a story about revenge. This is a story about survival.
Something eased inside him, calming him.
It’s the right thing to do.
At least it might prove cathartic for Nate.
“Can I ask a question? When I finish it—assuming I ever do—what will you do with it?”
Nate stood so still. “Publish it.”
Zeeb quirked an eyebrow. “Your dad might be in the Senate by then. This could wreck his reputation. Even bring him down.”
Nate’s gaze hardened, but there was no fire in it, only resolve. “You think the people of Oregon need a man likehimspeaking for them? Because I don’t. Besides, I’m not doing this to burn him down, but to lift myself up. To finally be heard.”
Zeeb nodded slowly. “I hear ya.” He glanced at the screen.
The page was no longer empty.
Neither, he suspected, was Nate.
He’s filled with a purpose.And Zeeb would do anything to help him achieve it.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Zeeb sat on the porch,a notebook open on his lap. He’d been doing more thinking than writing, and maybe that was the problem. Despite Nate’s confidence in him, there was one obstacle in his path.
I’m scared of getting it wrong.
This was a big fuckin’ deal. Nate was putting a whole lotta trust in him. The temptation to close the notebook and put it aside swamped him.
“Remember what I told you at the lake about drawing something?” Nate stood in the doorway. “I said if you didn’t draw a line on that blank page, it was going to sit there and taunt you. The same is obviously true for writing.” He came over to Zeeb’s chair, bent down, and kissed the top of his head. “I like the way you smell,” he murmured. “Kinda warm and musky. The way you smelled this morning in bed.”
Zeeb chuckled. “You keep talking like that, and writing is definitely going on the back burner.” He picked his phone upand glanced at the time. “I’m about ready to eat. We should be thinking ’bout lunch. You wanna eat here or at the bunkhouse?”
Nate bit his lip. “After my performance this morning, I might leave it a while before I show my face there.”
Zeeb caught hold of his hand. “Hey. You know not a damn soul is gonna judge you. And now they know the truth? They’re gonna be almost as proud of you as I am.”
Nate’s face glowed. “You’re proud of me?”
“Are you fuckingkidding? You told three strangers and all the ranch hands about the camp. And you said it so calmly.” Zeeb brought Nate’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingertips.
Nate’s breathing caught. “You portray yourself as this rough ‘n’ ready cowboy, all banter and swearing, and then you do something sweet and intimate like that.”
“Hell, we all need a little sweetness and intimacy, right?” Zeeb stilled at the sound of an engine. “We’ve got comp’ny.” He didn’t relinquish his hold on Nate’s hand, however.
Anyone about to walk around the corner of the cabin knew what to expect by now.
