Page 163 of Captivated

This was too close for comfort.

Then he chuckled. “You chose this one just so you get to hear me mangle all those elvish words, didn’t you?”

The light in Toby’s eyes was a glimmer of hope in what had become a very dark world.

Chapter Forty-Four

August 17, 2024

Zeeb had been stabbedone time in a bar brawl. He’d nearly been gored by a bull in Wyoming. He’d even gotten kicked by an ornery foal once. Probably still had the horseshoe print on his ass. Not forgetting he’d had the shit kicked out of him by a bunch of rednecks less than a week before.

None of those moments held a candle to sitting at Robert’s dining table in the big house, a fork poised mid-air, while every single ranch hand smirked at him as though they knew his internet search history.

Lord, he hoped not.

Nate sat beside him, all bright-eyed and innocent, politely asking Butch to pass the rolls like he hadn’t just brushed Zeeb’s hand under the table and then yanked it back like the contact had burned him.

Even if the touch had burned, Zeeb wouldn’t have minded. It had been the best damn thing to happen all week.

Diana sat next to Robert, and she was doing her fair share of staring too. Every time he glanced up, she flushed and averted her gaze, but Zeeb knew when he was being scrutinized.

What he wondered was why.

“You want some more chicken, Zeeb?”

It was an innocent question, but something in Walt’s voice made it sound dirty as fuck.

Zeeb gave him the stink-eye. “Still chewing the last piece here.”

“Oh.” Walt’s lips twitched. “I thought maybe Nate was feeding you under the table.”

Nate glanced up, his eyes as wide as his side plate. “What? I’m not—what are you talking about?”

Butch snorted so hard, Zeeb swore coleslaw was about to come out his nose. Matt put his fork down and folded his arms, his eyes bright, as if he was watching a bar fight about to break out in a monastery.

“Leave ’em be, Walt,” Teague drawled. “You’re just jealous.”

Jealous? What the fuck is goin’ on around here? Is there something in the water tonight? And since when did Teague become the voice of reason?Normally he egged them on.

“I think they’re sweet,” Paul said, not glancing up from his plate. “Like a pair of skittish colts. Only difference is colts usually do something about it.”

Christ, not another one.

Nate flushed from throat to hairline. Zeeb tried not to stare, but it was like watching the setting sun hit the mountain peaks around the south camp—so damn beautiful, so hard to look away from.

Diana took a drink from her wine glass. “I think it’s lovely that young love can still make grown men this uncomfortable.”

What the fuck?

What made it worse? Robert didn’t say a damn thing. Except that wasn’t surprising. Zeeb got the feeling that while he was there in body, his mind was at the hospital.

Zeeb stabbed a piece of potato salad. He didn’t dare sneak a peek at Nate again. Didn’t dare look away either. “We’re not—” Then he thought better of it and clammed up.

Don’t give ’em any ammunition. This bunch don’t need it.

Matt leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “In that case, if Nate doesn’t want Zeeb, I’ll take him.”

Nate blinked. “What?”

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