Page 27 of Keeping Her Safe

Zachary was reading the crazy redhead’s book an hour later when Max showed up to make breakfast. Zephyr hadn’t come down, and he knew she was in the same spot he had left her. In his life, he had never seen someone turn inward so fast and completely. He asked a question, and her blue eyes started to just stare—they didn’t see anything. At first, he was nervous that he had said something, but he soon realized she was plotting a story in her mind.

She was taking the first steps in a journey that a million would follow behind her on. All she had to do was type the words to lead them through her mind.

When Max came in, Zachary had gone up to see Zephyr. She was on her computer, now typing. She hadn’t even noticed him opening the door. She had looked up and smiled at him, but her hands did not stop moving. So, he left her to her work.

Back in the kitchen, Max was waiting for him. “Is the Mrs. up yet?”

Zachary smiled at the word, his Mrs., “No, I think I’ll let her sleep.”

“What do you want for breakfast then?” Max asked.

“I’m a light eater. Just fruit and toast. I can make it later and eat with the Mrs.” He really enjoyed saying it out loud.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. But I wanted to tell you that there is a farmer’s market happening on Main Street this evening. It happens every week, but maybe you two would like to take a walk through,” Max said, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s a coupon for the Hart Farms stand if you wanted to get something.”

Zachary took it and looked at the coupon, zeroing in on the name. Hart, Zephyr’s name. “Yeah, we’ll try to make it. Is it supposed to be cold out?”

“You’re going to need a jacket. Did you bring jackets?” Max asked.

“No, we forgot them,” he admitted.

“Oh, I can bring over a couple later, then. You’ll need jackets, but maybe you don’t need to buy any. Florida isn’t a winter jacket place.” Max chuckled as if only he knew it was warmer there.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

“Anything else you need?” Max looked around the room.

“Yeah, I’m reading a series of books and am going to finish the first one before I can get another. I hate to leave Zeph alone. She will be working on her thesis all day,” Zachary explained, hoping the other man would buy the excuse.

“What series?” Max asked.

“The Traveler series, by Z Connor. Do you know it?”

“No, but I know my nephew has read them. I think the drugstore would have them uptown, about four blocks from here,” Max replied.

“Do you think they would deliver?” Zachary wasn’t about to leave her alone.

“No, but I can have my brother-in-law bring one over. His office is right next door to the drugstore. I could probably have them here by lunch,” Max said.

“Can he grab all of them? Not the first, but the rest? I will pay for the delivery.”

“Sure. Jasper isn’t busy these days. He’s an accountant, and tax season is way off,” Max assured him as he left.

Zachary sat back down on the couch and opened the book. Once again, he looked at the first dozen pages with corrections on them and smiled at the neat handwriting. He could see her at fifteen, writing these books in notebooks. Her penmanship showed how many hours she had spent just writing long-hand.

He checked on Zephyr again, who was still typing, but now she had her headphones on and was humming with the music. As he’d laid in bed this morning, he realized she didn’t even know she was doing it. It had woken him, and he enjoyed the sound, low and whisper-quiet. It had drawn him out of sleep, and when he had opened his eyes, she was sitting in the chair, bathed in sunlight. It was bouncing off her curls again, and her blue eyes had met his over the laptop. She had been so sexy just sitting there, doing her thing. Her bare feet were tucked under her.

Shaking his head, he went back to reading, letting himself get lost in the world Zephyr had created. He actually felt her on every page, and he felt he was getting to know her better by reading her words. In some way, it felt like he was reading her diary from when she was young.

Sometimes he wondered if she had written these words on the table at the beach house. Was it the weekend he had been there?

CHAPTER 12

Ever since Zephyr had turned eighteen, she had been able to dictate her own schedule. When the story came together in her head, she could write until it was done. She could work all day and night with no issue, then crash when it was finished. Meals turned into quick snacks or ordering out when needed.

Today after Zachary had changed her way of thinking about her story's end, she had started to write. Throughout the day, Zachary would bring up meals and snacks and beverages for her. He hadn’t lingered or demanded conversation, just set down the food near her and came for the dishes later.

With her headphones on and concentrating on what she was writing, she hadn’t noticed he had come into the room. When she looked up, he was sitting on the bed near the chair she was sitting in. With a start, she gasped.

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