Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Rae

I t was only after exiting the barn, the heat of the sun spreading across my skin, that I was able to pull in a full breath. There was something so damn potent about Zach Paulson, that it consumed everything. I needed to get the hell out of there.

I hustled toward the nearest truck, letting out a relieved sigh when I found it unlocked. Hopping into the driver's seat, I flipped the visor down and caught the key ring before it fell in my lap. I shoved the key into the ignition and twisted but nothing happened. "What the hell?" I tried again with the same outcome. "Oh, come on," I groaned. "Not now." Not when I was so close to escaping.

I looked around, finally noticing that the gearshift looked different and there were three pedals instead of two. "Just freaking great. How the hell am I supposed to drive this thing?"

"You have to push in the clutch."

I let out a startled shriek and whipped around to find Zach standing on the other side of the closed door, only just noticing the driver's side window was down. "What?"

"The truck. It's got a manual transmission. You have to push in the clutch to start it."

"Oh." My gaze bounced between the pedals trying to understand what he was attempting to explain to me. "Um... okay." I recognized the gas pedal and the brake, so I could only assume the pedal on the far left was the clutch. I pushed it in and twisted the key again. This time, the truck started up on a deep rumble, the engine so powerful I felt the seat vibrate beneath me. "Got it."

I grabbed the gearshift and tried to move it only for it to make the worst screeching sound imaginable. "Jesus! What was that?"

Zach didn't bother hiding the smile on his face. "Never driven a stick before?"

I shot him a side-eyed look, lifting my brows high on my forehead. "Is that supposed to be a sex joke?"

His head fell back on a deep laugh, the pleasant sound causing my core to clench. On top of having the best ass I'd ever seen on a man, he also had the sexiest throat. Until that very moment, I hadn't even known it was possible to consider a throat sexy, but his was. All thick and strong and corded, in perfect proportion with his broad, solid shoulders. Honestly, everything about the man was sexy as hell. "No, it wasn't a sex joke. Come on." He grabbed the handle and pulled my door open. "Scoot over. I'll drive you."

Damn my heart and its inability to maintain a normal rate in this man's presence. If it kept up like this, I was liable to have a heart attack before I reached twenty-five. "You don't have to," I blurted out quickly. "I mean, it's really not necessary. I'm sure I can figure it out." To prove my point, I grabbed the shifter again, only to grind the gears for a second time.

"I'll teach you to drive a stick, but it'll take some time for you to get it. And I thought you needed groceries," he challenged with cocked brow.

I shot him a glare for being so damn smug and grumbled, "Fine. But I want to learn. I don't want to be dependent on everyone here. People will get sick and tired of me coming to them for every little thing I can't do." I hadn't meant for all of that to spill out. I'd let my frustration at feeling helpless get the best of me and showed more of my hand than I'd intended.

His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "I don't know what it was like back in California, but that's not how it works here. We take care of each other here. If someone needs help, we help. That's all there is to it."

I narrowed my eyes, my turn to issue a challenge as I replied, "Like you did when I first got here?" He broke eye contact, dropping his head as if in shame, and I instantly felt bad for throwing that in his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said?—"

"Stop." My mouth snapped shut. "Don't apologize to me. You weren't wrong. I was an asshole when you first got here. If anyone needs to apologize, it's me."

"It's forgotten," I stated quickly, kicking myself for even bringing up the past.

"But is it forgiven?" he asked quietly.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling like it was full of cotton. "Of course. It's all forgiven. I won't bring it up again." I shifted over on the bench seat of the truck, eager to disable the tension swirling around us. "Now, get up here and drive me to the grocery store already." My lips curved upward into a grin. "I don't have all day."

The drive to the grocery store was made in silence, but there was something companionable about it. It wasn't awkward or charged. It was as if we were comfortable enough with each other to be in the present, no need for mindless chatter to fill the minutes. It was nice, being able to watch the landscape, so different than what I was used to, pass by as we left the ranch and headed into town.

We rode with the windows down, the fresh, pleasant breeze filling the cab as some country song played at a low volume on the radio. I couldn't remember a time in my life when I'd felt so content, so at peace. Back in L.A., it had been a constant battle with my so-called friends to constantly one-up each other, to always be on top. There was nothing calm or settling about that life. You were either planning how to bring someone down or constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for someone to plunge a knife in your back.

I was finally starting to understand why my parents sent me here and what lessons they were hoping I'd learn once I got away from that viper pit I'd been living in for so many years.

I couldn't help but smile at the number of people who waved at our passing truck as Zach wound it through the streets of downtown Hope Valley. "Man, you're really popular in this town, aren't you?" I observed with a small laugh after Zach lifted his hand from the wheel to return a wave for the tenth time.

"It's more my family than me. They've been here for generations."

I gave him an assessing glance. "I don't know about that. I think you might be selling yourself short." He let out a hum, but didn't say anything more about it as he guided us toward the local market.

Fresh Foods wasn't some big chain grocery store like you'd see in the city. It was much smaller, but as I slowly perused the aisles, scanning the shelves as Zach pushed the cart behind me, I was happy to see that the selection wasn't lacking just because it wasn't some huge warehouse that sold everything from women's sandals to potato chips.

The wine selection was surprisingly good, and I was excited to find they even had a section of different kinds of artisan cheeses.

"You know you're gonna need more than just wine and cheese, right?" Zach pointed out as I tossed a wedge of Manchego and a wheel of a delicious looking white truffle goat cheese.

I shot him a look over my shoulder. "Says who?"

"Doctors and dieticians, I'm sure." He grinned and shook his head as I placed a bottle of cabernet into the cart gently, like it was my most prized possession. And after so many days of peanut butter and that god-awful bourbon, it really was. "You're either going to clog your arteries or develop a drinking problem at this rate."

"Okay, fine, bossy. I'll get other stuff too." With a huff, I forced my feet to move out of what would undoubtedly be my favorite section of the store .

"Do you have a list?" he asked as I started pulling random things from shelves as we moved along the aisles. So far I had a box of dried pasta, a loaf of sourdough bread, a single can of green beans, a bag of trail mix, and a couple boxes of cereal. I turned to find him staring down at the contents of my cart in confusion.

"A list for what?"

He lifted those chocolatey eyes to mine—which reminded me, I needed to grab some chocolate too—and raised his brows high on his forehead. "A grocery list. So you know what you need." He waved his hand over the cart. "I'm not sure what the hell you're plannin' on making with all this, Hollywood, but I don't think it's gonna taste very good."

I stared at the items I'd thrown into the cart. Honestly, I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing. I didn't know how to cook to save my life. Back in L.A., I lived off takeout and dining out at whatever restaurant was the hot spot to be seen in at the moment. I paid someone else to handle the shopping whenever I needed my fridge or pantry stocked.

A blush crawled up my cheeks and the tips of my ears started to burn. Curling my lips between my teeth, I looked up at Zach from beneath my lashes and shrugged. "I've never shopped for my own groceries before."

His mouth dropped open wide enough for a family of flies to move in. "You're kidding me." He let out a bark of bewildered laughter. "You've never grocery shopped before?"

My expression fell into a frown as I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. "Don't make fun of me."

His smile fell instantly. He released the cart handle and rounded it, heading right for me. "Hey," he said quietly, reaching up and taking me by my upper arms. His gentle touch was a contrast to his work-rough palms. In that moment I realized every man who'd touched me before Zach—not that there were many at all—had soft, perfectly manicured hands. My skin broke out in goosebumps as he trailed those hands down to my elbows and back up in a tender caress, a shiver working its way across my spine. I was pretty sure that one touch had ruined me for all soft-handed men from here on out. "Never." He said that one word with such earnestness that it rattled through me. "I would never make fun of you, Rae. I'll tease you, sure, but I will never make fun of you. You have to believe that."

I did, actually. I wasn't sure if it was the passion of his declaration or the intensity in his gaze, but I believed him.

I swallowed in an effort to ease my dry throat. "Okay," I said on a croak. "I believe you."

God, this man really wasn't helping me get over my crush. Especially when he smiled like I'd given him the best gift ever. Like how he was smiling at me just then.

"Good. Come on, then. I'll help you out. We'll get you set up with some staples every house should have, and I'll show you some quick, easy-to-make meals that consist of more than just wine and cheese."

He could knock my wine and cheese all he wanted, but there was nothing better at the end of a long day than a bubble bath with a glass of wine and a cheese plate, and that was a hill I was willing to die on.

We went aisle by aisle, filling the cart with enough food to hold me over for a while. He tossed out my canned vegetables in exchange for fresh produce. When I argued, he simply gave me a look—the one that looked a whole lot like the look my mom used to give me when I was little and bitched about eating my vegetables—and kept on walking, tossing in more fresh, leafy greens as he went.

In the past twenty-four hours Zach Paulson had insisted on teaching me to ride a horse, promised to teach me to drive a stick shift, and was now talking about how he'd help me learn my way around the kitchen so I could cook for myself.

Given his gift for filling out a pair of faded Wranglers and all those hard, defined muscles, it was clear that if ever there was a perfect man on this planet, Zach was it. The fact that he looked the way he looked and could cook was enough to seal it, even if he didn't have the world's most incredible ass.

And speaking of his ass... he'd trailed ahead of me in the produce section while I pouted over a head of broccoli, and now that it was in clear view, I was tush-struck.

"It's not gonna kill you to eat more fruits and—" He turned around mid-rant and caught me red-handed, so to speak. A cheeky smile tugged at his lips. "Were you just staring at my ass?"

My entire face caught on fire. My eyes bugged out, and every word I'd ever learned fell right out of my head. "I—what? No ! Of course not. I wouldn't. That's not—" I blew out a raspberry before a hysterical cackle burst past my lips. "Please. Get over yourself."

"You were! You were totally checking out my ass." His laugh filled the produce section. I would never get tired of hearing that sound.

"Shut up," I grumbled, embarrassment heating my entire body from the inside out. "You know, a gentleman wouldn't make a big deal out of it."

His grin grew cheeky, causing my thighs to clench involuntarily. "That's your mistake for thinking I'm?—"

I wasn't sure what he'd been about to say, but whatever it was, the words died on his tongue at the same time all the color drained from his face, leaving him looking a sickly shade of white. His gaze shifted from me to something over my shoulder, and it was as if he suddenly disappeared on me. Like his mind had taken him somewhere else.

He went from laughing one second to looking like he'd come down with the flu the very next. His skin even had a slight sheen to it, like sweat had beaded along his forehead.

"Zach?" I said his name quietly, carefully taking a step in his direction. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

His throat worked on a thick, audible swallow as he kept his gaze trained behind me. I turned to see what he was staring at, but other than a wall of fresh produce, all I caught a glimpse of was a person's back as they disappeared around the corner.

I shifted my focus back to Zach, worry prickling my skin at the way his chest was heaving like he was struggling to take in a full breath.

"Zach," I tried again, but it was as if an empty vessel was standing in front of me. "Zach!" I gripped his arms and gave him a shake, letting out a breath of relief when he finally blinked, the focus returning back to his eyes as he looked down at me. "Are you okay? What just happened?"

"Nothing. I-I have to go," he said, taking two steps backward, like he was preparing to take off at a dead sprint.

My chin jerked back in shock. "What?"

"I just remembered, I have somewhere I have to be. But I'll call Lennix and have her come pick you up."

"Wait. Zach." That didn't make any damn sense. I didn't know who or what he just saw, but whatever it was had been enough to scare him in a way I'd never seen before. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Rae. I'll see you back at the ranch."

That was all he gave me before turning on the heel of his dusty boot and taking off toward the exit like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.