I look over as if he’s gone crazy. “For real?”
“You seem like you’re not happy to see me.”
“How’s Felicia?” I ask with acid in my tone. I said I would play it cool, but thinking of her makes me stabby. She’s a vile bitch and even if Zach and I never ended up back together, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near him. Her soul is as black as her hair.
Zach fixes his hat and grins. “If you’d returned my call you would know.”
“You called yesterday, and I was busy.” The truth is I didn’t want to call him back—I was angry he hadn’t tried to call sooner.
“I figured you’d call back.”
“Why didn’t you come by?” I inquire. “It’s not as if you don’t know where I am.”
He looks over with his eyes blazing. In that glance, he melts me. “I know exactly where you are, Presley.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
Zach pulls the truck over and turns to face me. “Felicia and I aren’t together anymore. I spent the last few days moving her out and finding her a place to live.” He pauses for a second. “You see, I meant every word I said. But I had to be fair to her, and my coming over to your house after ending a five-year relationship wouldn’t have been. So, you’re in the batter’s box.” He leans back and throws the car in drive.
I let the information seep in.
Zach is no longer with Felicia.
I’m single.
He drives as I mull over all the insecurities I have and whether I can even think about this. We have no shortage of sexual attraction—we never have. I know we’re compatible. I know we have the ability to love one another, and I realize I’ve always loved him. And if I’m truly honest, I know he loves me. He wouldn’t have left her if he didn’t. He wouldn’t look at me like he does. And he wouldn’t be here right now. Zach has hurt me though.
But we’re both adults now. Things have changed.
Hell, I’ve changed tremendously. It’s unfair to think Zach is the same. It’s a lot to consider. My stomach clenches and my heart races.
He arrives at the gate where we need to enter to ride out to the cattle. As he opens the truck door, I grab his arm. “What’s the count?” I ask, using his analogy. Zach communicates better in baseball terms.
He smiles as he tips his head. “Darlin’.” his Southern drawl becomes apparent. “There’s no strikes, no outs, and we’re only in the first inning.”
I cover my laugh with a cough. “You need to work on your game, Zachary Hennington. I’m not even sure I’m going to take a swing.”
Zach’s eyes brighten as his smile grows. “I’m pretty good at reading the batter, and I think she just might be ready to lift that bat off her shoulder.” He leans close and all but whispers, “Question is, will she get a hit or strike out?”
I tap my chin. “Hmm. Depends how good the pitch is.”
“Right down the middle.”
“What if it curves?”
He takes my hand in his, yanking me forward. “It’s the perfect pitch, Presley. It won’t sink, curve, or slow down. It’s not even a fast ball. It’s that one pitch that only comes around when the pitcher wants the batter to hit.” His lips are so close. Every part of me tightens as I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. Instead, his mouth goes to the side of my face. “The pitcher is practically begging the batter to take a swing. Take the bat off your shoulder, darlin’.”
He releases me and hops out of the truck whistling. I sit there frazzled, my breathing heavy. What happens if I strike out?
A S WE READY THE HORSES, I can feel Zach’s eyes on me. I fight every bone in my body from looking over at him. I have to say something, one way or another, but fear overrides my desires. My heart needs to be protected, and I need to be certain I’m ready to even consider another relationship.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him, though.
I’ve always wanted him. Now we’re here, all these years later, with a second chance.
“Zach.” I start to say something . . . anything, but before we can say anything else, Wyatt and the other guys come up.
“Took you two long enough.” Wyatt smirks. “I thought maybe you’d stopped off for a quickie.”
Zach glares at his brother, but of course, nothing bothers Wyatt. He’s best left ignored. “And here I thought all the Hennington boys had stamina. Guess you’re the weakest link.” I shrug and climb onto Shortstop.
The irony is laughable.
“You make sure you ride Shortstop really hard, but don’t let it get too bumpy.” Wyatt smirks as if he read my thoughts.
“Jerk.”
“Been called worse.”
I hear Zach’s chuckle, and I stick my tongue out at Wyatt.