Page 71 of Set It Right
He cocked his head. “Should I read into that comment?”
“Not at all.” I pushed myself upright, my shoulder bumping into his. “You’ve always taken care of me. I’m not surprised you want to take care of this.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “I suppose I can’t help it when it comes to you.”
My heart slammed against the wall of my chest, fighting for the chance to get even an inch closer to him. But he was already off the bed, gathering supplies from my bathroom. While he was gone, I shuffled to my dresser, finding a baggy T-shirt and a fresh pair of panties.
When he came back, he paused for a second at seeing me dressed, then he was all business, flipping on a light so he could inspect my tattoo. He knelt in front of me, his brow furrowed, and removed the bandage as carefully as possible. After cleaning my skin, he slathered on a thick ointment, lightly dragging his finger along the words. Before he stood, his lips ghosted over my hip, right above the ink.
“What about yours?” I tugged on his sleeve. “Who’s going to take care of your tattoo?”
“I’ve been through this a few times. I’ve got it.” He palmed the back of my head and pressed his lips against my forehead. “Thanks for looking out, though.”
“How’d you take care of the one on your back by yourself?” I followed behind him like a shadow. He bent to tug on his jeans, and my stomach sank with each inch they rose.
He paused when they were all the way up, still unzipped and unbuttoned, and I nearly forgot my question. Then his cheeks flushed pink, and I was enthralled.
“Uh…my grandmother, mostly.” He gripped the back of his neck. “Not the sexiest thing to admit, but it’s the truth.”
With a laugh, I stepped into his space, throwing my arms around his middle. “I love how you are with your family. It’s sexy as hell.”
It took a beat, but he hugged me back, and I felt his smile against the side of my head. “Do you want to run with me in the morning?”
I tilted my head to look at him. His eyes were crystal clear and locked in on me in a way that nearly took my breath away. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was new or if I was just noticing.
“To the river and back?” I asked.
His exhale brought a grin with it. “Always, Zara. To the river and back.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Zara
Cormacarrivedthenextmorning before I was ready for him. I was yawning and holding my sneakers when I swung open the door, finding him jogging in place and more alert than ever.
“I’m out of shape,” I warned, bending over to stuff my feet into my shoes.
He chuffed. “I doubt that. You spend your days climbing mountains and going on hikes.”
“But not running.” I looked up from tying my laces. “I remember running with you being pretty intense.”
“We’ll go slow,” he promised.
We started down the gravel drive, sneakers crunching in rhythm before easing into a jog once we hit the packed dirt road looping the family side of the ranch. The morning air was cool and clean. I filled my lungs so deep with it; it almost hurt.
For a few strides, I was acutely aware of him.
Of everything.
How just last night, his mouth had been on mine. His hands had been everywhere. Of how his T-shirt brushed my arm nowas we ran side by side, close but not touching. Of the quiet space between us that felt…different.
I waited for it to feel awkward.
For one of us to trip over it.
“So,” he said easily, glancing at me, “still think you beat me on our last race around the south fence line?”
Relief loosened something in my chest. “Oh, please. You willingly forfeited that race. I won fair and square.”
