Page 32 of Captivated
He hated beingseen.
He’d counted on Nate not joining him: Zeeb might have only known him for a short time, but he’d gotten a handle on the guy. Zeeb wanted to be alone in the quiet, where no one asked questions he didn’t want to answer.
Eventually, however, the cold started to bite, and he made his way back to the bank, his chest breaking the surface, watercascading off his skin. As he walked up the shallows, he realized too late that Nate was still watching, quiet, steady, unmoving.
Zeeb suddenly felt bare in more ways than one.
He bent to grab his jeans, angling his body away, not quite meeting Nate’s gaze.
“You could’ve warned me,” Nate said, his voice softer.
“About what?”
“The full moon show.”
Zeeb cackled. “Would’ve ruined the spontaneity.” He pulled his jeans on, his damp legs protesting, and finally looked at Nate.
Nate was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You feel better now?”
That depends on whether you ask me any more questions.
Zeeb grinned. “You should try it.”
“Maybe another day.”
He put on his shirt, the fabric clinging to him. “You ready to eat?”
Nate smiled. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He paused. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
Zeeb shrugged as he buttoned up. “Don’t mention it.”
But something in Nate’s voice, in the way he said it—like he meant more than the lake—stuck with Zeeb as he headed for the wagon where he’d left the insulated bag containing their lunch.
And what are you gonna do the next time he asks a question about your past? Find another lake to dive into?
Zeeb would deal with that situation if—or when—it arose.
Chapter Ten
The darkening skywas starting to ring alarm bells.
“Do you get many storms in the summer?”
Zeeb glanced at the horizon. “Yeah, sometimes we get a really good thunderstorm. And seein’ as today was hotter ‘n’ hell, looks like we’re in for a nasty one.” He stood. “Maybe we should leave now. Don’t wanna get caught in it.”
Nate nodded. He packed away his pencils, closed the sketch pad, and folded up the easel. They made their way hurriedly to the wagon, and Zeeb wasted no time hitting the trail back to Salvation.
“It’s scary,” Nate commented, staring at the heavy-looking clouds rolling in. The heat was oppressive, and while storms made him nervous, he couldn’t wait for it to break.
As long as it waited until he was someplace dry.
By the time they reached Salvation, the clouds were a mix of purple and black, and the rolls of thunder grew louder and more frequent. Zeeb unhitched the horses, led them into the stable, then the two of them took Zeeb’s truck and headed for Nate’scabin. As they stepped onto the front porch, lightning snaked a path across the sky, brilliant against the darkness.
Nate hugged himself, shivering.
“You okay?”
He glanced at Zeeb. “Not a fan of storms.”
