Page 38 of Grateful Hearts

The fire that had been simmering in him the past few days had reignited. He didn’t care what her reason was. He was going to find her, bring her back, and get to the bottom of whatever made her think she could just leave him.

Chapter Fifteen

The kitchen was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic tapping of Chantel’s knife on the cutting board as she diced onions and celery that would eventually go into the cornbread stuffing.

The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft, golden glow through the windows. She loved mornings like this—calm, productive, and full of promise.

But her mind wasn’t entirely focused on the dishes she was prepping. Instead, it kept drifting back to the night before, sitting by the fire with Zach.

He had asked her if she could ever see herself dating someone in the military. His tone had been casual, but the way his gray eyes searched hers told a different story. He wasn’t just making conversation. He wanted to know what she thought abouthim.

She’d given him an honest answer. Yes, she could. It wouldn’t be easy, but the kind of loyalty, bravery, and dedication a military career required was something she deeply admired. And Zach? He embodied all of that and more.

Even though she’d only known him for a few days, she could see the kind of man he was. He was thoughtful, kind, sarcastic in a way that made her laugh, and so damn handsome it was almost distracting. If given the chance, she would stand proudly by his side.

Chantel shook herself out of her thoughts, laughing softly.Focus, Chantel. Food first. Daydream later.

She moved to the pantry, mentally running through her to-do list. Cornbread stuffing was up next, and she needed theingredients from the top shelf. Standing in front of the pantry door, she hesitated, remembering yesterday morning’sincident. A smirk tugged at her lips as she raised a fist and knocked lightly.

“Anyone in there?” she muttered to herself, chuckling.

Satisfied no one was using the pantry forquestionable activities, she opened the door and stepped inside. She grabbed the step stool, unfolded it, and climbed up, stretching on her toes to reach the bag of breadcrumbs she had cut up the day before and a container of sage that was out of reach.

She had just managed to grab one of the items when a voice came from behind her.

“Need a hand?”

Startled, Chantel let out a small yelp and lost her balance. The container of sage slipped from her fingers as she wobbled on the stool. Before she could fall, strong hands caught her midair, pulling her securely against a solid chest.

“Zach!” she gasped, her heart pounding from both the scare and his closeness.

His arms stayed around her, holding her steady. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, but his grin betrayed zero guilt.

She opened her mouth to scold him, but the words got lost somewhere between her racing heart and the way his gray eyes softened as they gazed into hers.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low.

“Yeah,” she breathed, though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

Time seemed to slow as they stood there, barely inches apart. His hands remained on her waist, warm and steady, while her hands rested lightly against his chest. She could feel the faint rhythm of his heartbeat.

Chantel’s heart hammered in her chest. He smelled like cedarwood and something undeniably him, a scent that made her want to lean closer. She felt tiny in his arms, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she loved it.

???

Zach never expected his morning to start out by having Chantel fall into his arms. However, now that he stood there, looking into her eyes, he wasn’t complaining.

She looked almost scared, her wide eyes darting between his face and the pantry shelves, but Zach could see past her nervousness. The way she was biting her lip, the soft blush on her cheeks—it wasn’t fear. It was the same thing he’d been feeling since the moment he met her.

“Zach?” she questioned.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.

Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked up at him. “You have?”

“You have no idea,” he murmured, his hand sliding from her waist to cradle her cheek. “Can I?”

Chantel swallowed hard but managed a shaky smile. “If you don’t, I might never forgive you.”

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