Page 26 of Finding Zara


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“Of course you are.”

“A lot.”

“Excellent, excellent. So how about this… Just focus on how he makes you feel. He’s a great guy. You like him. You want him, and it sounds like he wants you. So don’t think about the long term or the short term, or about any of the other rules you’ve made for yourself. Just live in the moment. Because you deserve it, Zee. You deserve to have a bit of fun.”

I took another sip of coffee as I let Ally’s words sink in. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did deserve to have a bit of fun. Maybe I actually could take a little something for myself and not overthink it. If Matthew was okay with it too, that is. I shivered a little as I felt the heat pool in my belly.

“Where’s your head at?”

“I think I’m at the seriously considering it stage.”

“Woohoo!” Ally shot to her feet. “I’m at the pancakes for breakfast stage, so let’s go do that. You gotta build up your strength for the incredible sex fest you’re about to have.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re crazy.”

* * *

Once Ally had opened my mind to the possibility of sleeping with Matt, it became all I could think about. So much so that I became acutely aware of Matt’s every move, finely attuned to his whereabouts at any moment. Under the house fixing the foundation. Up in the roof fixing some joists. At his truck making phone calls. In the living room working on the flooring. I also couldn’t help but notice that he was keeping a polite distance from me. Problem was, I didn’t know if he was giving me the space I’d asked for or losing interest.

Standing in the kitchen packing up some boxes to move to the little guest house, my thoughts were in turmoil. It had been a torturous few days, if I was honest, and the idea that maybe Matt suddenly wasn’t even interested anymore made everything worse. Muttering to myself, I climbed up onto the counter to pull some vases from one of the top cupboards.

“I really think you should consider investing in a step ladder.”

I jumped, grabbing the bottom of the cupboard to steady myself. I’d been so caught up in my own chaotic thoughts that I hadn’t heard Matt opening the sliding door. Turning to look at him over my shoulder, my blood thrummed in my ears. He was no more than three steps behind me. His gaze roamed over my body: up my legs, over my ass, around the curve of my breasts and finally up to my face. I had to grip the cupboard tighter as my breath caught. The heat in his gaze lanced straight into my core. “I was just, uh…”

Then the heat was gone, almost as quickly as it had flared. “Let me take that,” Matt said, when I didn’t continue. Taking the crystal vase from me, he flashed a grin. “You sure you should be up there?”

“Probably not.” Definitely not, if I was going to feel a zing like that straight up my arm when our fingers brushed. Placing the vase carefully on the counter, Matt reached up and lifted me down, pulling his hands away swiftly as soon as my feet touched the floor.

“Thanks.” We were standing close enough that our bodies were almost touching.

“Do you need a hand?”

“With?” God, why did he have to smell so good?

“With the kitchen stuff.”

Forcing myself to take a step back, I cleared my throat. “You’re seriously offering to help me pack up the kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

Glancing around at the half-packed boxes and reams of paper, I said, “I’m going to take you up on that, sir.” He smiled again, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. Ignoring the way my heart did a slow roll in my chest, I turned away from him. “If you can pass me everything from that top shelf, I’ll wrap it all up.”

“Sure.”

It was quite ridiculous how such a mundane task like wrapping glassware in paper and putting it in boxes could be such sweet torture. But here I was, standing close enough to Matt that his scent filled my head, brushing my fingers against his as he handed me the objects from the cupboard, turning to pick up an empty box and bumping against him as I turned back. By the time we were carrying boxes out to the guest house, my nerve endings were in overdrive.

“This box is stuff you’ll use all the time, right? Mugs and glasses?”

“Yes.”

“So, that cupboard, then?” He gestured to the cupboard just behind me, which was above the kettle I’d just plugged in.

“Sure.”

He stepped toward me, reaching for the door, pulling it open. I was in the way, but I held my ground. Matt looked down at me, his hand still on the mug he’d just put away. Then he lowered his arm slowly, his eyes searching mine. I swallowed as heat flickered in the green depths.

“Zara,” he said softly.

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