Chapter Eleven

 

WHEN ZACH WALKED through Cal’s clinic door and glimpsed Nat’s stressed expression, he wondered if he could get away with killing his friend. It was a good thing his other patient had left. He’d hate to have a witness to Cal’s murder. He could just make out what they were saying and stayed quiet so he could eavesdrop.

“If you won’t let me stay here, then just call me a cab, Calum. For God’s sake, how do you think I survived all this time without someone taking care of me? I’ll meet Zach at his house.”

She must have caught sight of him, because she stopped trying to talk Cal into letting her stay. Her eyes widened when Zach stalked across the room, looking no doubt like a storm-trooper ready to give Calum what-for.

“Not his fault, Zach,” she said softly as he reached her side, then surprised him by taking his hand in hers, and linking their fingers together. “We were just snarking at each other.”

The soft plea in her voice worked like magic, and he felt his anger deflate. She didn’t need him to come to her rescue, as much as that protective part of him wanted to. She needed his support, and to make her life easier while she recuperated. At his home, dammit.

Zach still wanted nothing more than to flatten his friend. Tough love was one thing, but Cal needed to back off. He had no clue what they’d been arguing about, but maybe he and Cal just needed to let Natalie set her own pace. Maybe tough love wasn’t what she needed.

Although, his buddy had needed a little tough love himself when they’d come back from that shithole he’d lost part of his leg in. But still. His good buddy needed to learn to dish out his advice in small doses, not ram it down her throat.

Zach’s injury had been nothing like Cal’s. His friend left a piece of himself back there. Literally. It took a year of badgering and getting in his face to get him back on his remaining foot and out of the bottle. But it was worth every minute, and every black eye, when he didn’t duck fast enough and Cal’s fist made a solid connection.

Choosing to ignore rather than smack him, Zach kept possession of Natalie’s hand and said lightly, “Let’s blow this pop stand, honey. Belle picked out a large pepperoni and extra cheese from Pie Town across the street. Just need to pop it in the oven. Ready to head home?”

He could feel Belle vibrating with the need to join the conversation and hoped she remembered what he’d said. He was sure his little girl was on pins and needles as to how Natalie would react to hearing she’d caused the fire, but apparently the idea of pizza and a Christmas tree trumped her worry. At least for now. He didn’t think Natalie could take a conversation with Belle about Christmas trees and decorating on the short ride home, though.

He knew it was too good to be true when Belle took Natalie’s other hand with her sticky little fingers and tugged. Belle leaned in close, as if to keep him from hearing her. He tensed, unsure what she’d say. Spontaneous confession or Christmas talk?

“I’m not supposed to talk much cause your leg hurts and you’re sad, but maybe if you help us decorate the tree, you’ll feel better.”

Zach groaned and wrapped his hand gently around Belle’s little arm, meaning to pull her away. He stopped, mesmerized by the flash of affection he saw in Natalie’s glistening eyes when she looked down at his daughter.

“Belle, honey,” Zach murmured.

“Shhh.” Natalie glanced at him, then back down at his daughter.

“That’s very sweet of you, Belle. Why don’t we wait to see how I feel when we get to your house, okay?”

Zach appreciated Natalie being upfront with Belle, and in a way that didn’t hurt her feelings. She didn’t lie or skate around the subject, either.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he leaned in and swept Natalie into his arms, nodding to Cal as he turned.

“How about helping me get Belle settled in her seat, bro.”

“You got it. I expect to see you back tomorrow, Nat. I want ice on that knee tonight, twenty on, forty off, times four. Got it?”

Zach’s mouth quirked when he caught Natalie rolling her eyes at her cousin. His grin turned strained when she wiggled to get comfortable in his arms and his fingers brushed the underside of her plump breast. Her gaze snapped to his as they both tensed.

He willed his little head to behave as it bumped his zipper. Wanting attention, again. Like her slim hands or lush mouth wrapped around it. He made quick work of getting her settled in his truck, thankful his munchkin and Cal were chaperoning, so he didn’t give into the urge to drop a kiss on her plump lips.

As he pulled away from the curb, he realized it would be a lesson in iron control to wait and hope Natalie’s feelings came around to match his. He wouldn’t curb all his affection, though. The woman was blatantly starved for touch, for caring—for love—soaking it up like a new sponge on the beach, being washed over by the ocean tide.

Almost home, he glanced across the truck to see Natalie staring out the passenger window. Apparently lost in thought for the short ride home, no doubt used to being by herself—to protecting her heart at all costs—as he’d found out from Cal tattling on her.

And apparently much too used to being mired in depression and pain—both physical and emotional. If only she’d let him, he could replace love and affection with most of the depression, maybe help her memories become less painful, encourage her to share the good times she had with her little guy—help her lesson the pain all around.

“Hey.” Zach closed a hand over her clenched fist. “You okay?” He’d called her name twice, but she’d been too deep in thought to respond. She glanced his way and nodded, but stayed mute with a stubborn tilt to her head.

He pulled into his drive and reversed their routine, getting everyone into the house and settling Natalie on a kitchen chair. A flick of his wrist had the oven pre-heating. He squatted on his heels and dropped a kiss on Belle’s forehead.

“Get settled in the living room with a book, pumpkin. Be good and stay there till I come get you for dinner, okay?”

Belle peeked sideways at Natalie and shot him a look he now knew was full of guilt. He’d have to clue Natalie in, and soon, so his little girl would quit creeping around the house, waiting for the hammer to drop.

God, he didn’t relish that conversation. How will Natalie react? As tense as she was, and clearly in pain from PT, now was not the time to spill the beans about the fire.

At Belle’s hesitation, he stood and took her hand, walking her to the living room. “Come on, pumpkin. I’m going to get the pizza in the oven, and they’ll deliver the tree soon.”

He settled his little girl with her favorite Lowly Worm book and hurried back to the kitchen. The more he learned about Natalie, the more he understood her independent streak. She’d turned herself into a loner after having been a wife and mother, not to mention loving grandchild to her doting grandma, and more sister to Calum than cousin.

Now that she only had Cal left, he wondered if the transformation was complete and irreversible? The glimpse of her softening toward Belle—and the flashes of longing and affection for him that slipped through her barricade—lent him hope he, and Belle, would be able to breach the barricade around her heart. That, and the flare of desire in her eyes whenever he held her supple body in his arms.

Even if they didn’t act on their mutual attraction, he held hope she would open her heart to someone, someday. He squelched the flare of jealously at the thought that someone would be another man, and not him. She didn’t need that vibe from him.

Her soft voice jerked him from his brooding. “If you can help me to my room, you and Belle can have dinner together and do the tree without a third wheel.”

“How about staying down here to eat and hanging with us while we decorate? You can give your opinions on where to hang the decorations. Can’t have a lopsided tree.”

He ignored her irritated look and clenched teeth, deciding to cut her off at the pass. “I know I’m not the boss of you, but I’m also not going to let you spend the entire time you’re here, tucked away in your room. How is that healthy for you? At least stay until you’ve eaten—we’ll get ice on that knee—and they deliver the tree. Then, if you’re determined to be alone, I’ll carry you to your room. Let me at least feed you. Please, Nat?”

He grabbed a flexible ice pack from the fridge, one that was in a sleeve that would wrap around her leg, and had Velcro to secure it, and handed it to her. He could tell his autocratic ways were annoying her, but no way was he was going to let her get into the habit of hiding out upstairs. It was just too darned bad if she felt he was bossing her around. He’d never learned to quell his natural leadership and wasn’t about to start now. She’d just have to suck it up and deal with him. At least tacking on the please at the end seemed to soften her expression and demeanor.

He’d been bossy before being MARSOC, had learned ninja-bossing skills as a Marine, and would probably be bossing the undertaker around from the afterlife.

At the ding of the oven, he grabbed the pizza and slid it onto the middle rack, set the timer for the pie, and one for the ice on her knee, then stepped to her side and lay a hand on her shoulder. “You need the loo before we eat?”

She shivered at his touch. “No, Calum helped me at his place.” Stubbornness replaced the sensual fire that flashed in her eyes. “You know, I’m not going to mooch off you while I’m here. You need to at least let me contribute to the food budget, since I can’t help around the house.”

He rolled with her mercurial moods and topic switch, answering easily, “Sure, no problem. We’ll get that figured out tomorrow.” He understood her need to feel independent and knew paying her way would help curb her feelings of helplessness. He wasn’t going to be a controlling asshole.

He could see her gearing up for another comment, thankfully saved from further discussion when Belle poked her head into the room.

“Daddy, when is the tree getting here? Is the pizza ready? I’m hungry.”

“It should be here before we’re done eating. Why don’t you finish your book? I’ll get Natalie something to drink and bring in the decorations. You can lay them out for us while the pizza’s cooking.”

Belle sidled up next to him and pulled on his hand so she could whisper in his ear. “Did you tell her, Daddy?”

Zach shook his head and glanced sideways to see Natalie narrow her eyes at him, apparently not having lost the keen hearing or intuition of a mother.