Page 60 of Keeping Zita

The second his arm closed over her waist, she turned, snuggling into him as if she’d done it every day of her life. He rolled to his back so Zita would be more comfortable. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and one leg hitched over his thigh, as if she was claiming him.

Obi-Wan was completely all right with being claimed. As long as it was this woman doing so.

He was tired too, but sleep didn’t come right away. He was enjoying the feeling of holding her. Having her trust him to sleep in her bed and not do anything she hadn’t specifically consented to. Smelling her shampoo. Simply being this close to another human being. It had been way too long since he’d had anything like this. And he liked it. Craved it.

But only with Zita. No one else. He was sure being with any other woman couldn’t match the feeling he was experiencing right now.

He finally fell asleep half an hour later, a smile on his face and contentment in his soul. This was what he’d been looking for without even knowing it. If he could feel like this now, before being as physically close as two people could be, he was almost scared of how vital this woman would become if—hopefully when—they moved their relationship to the next level.

Scared, but one hundred percent willing and onboard. Zita Darlington could destroy the life he’d known up until now, and he was looking forward to seeing what that was like.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Zita was exhausted. As she’d expected, the day was crazy. The rain made everyone cranky and impatient. People slipped and fell constantly, needing scrapes cleaned and bandaged. The bugs were relentless. One of the camera operators had a fairly serious injury when she fell and a jagged stick impaled through the webbing of her hand.

That incident took up a good bit of her time, as she went back to Fallport with the woman to get the stick removed at the clinic, and to make sure it was thoroughly cleaned. Thankfully, once she was cleaned up, the wound was relatively minor, all things considered, and she’d be able to return to her job the next day.

By the time she got back to the set, she had three people lined up she needed to deal with, though nothing life-threatening.

The only good to come from the rain was that it was perfect for the scenes Logan shot that day. Showcasing the miserable conditions he had to suffer through as he continued to make his way toward the border and safety. The rain and clouds made the atmosphere on the set almost spooky, which was perfect for the shots of the extras hunting the American who they knew was out there somewhere.

By the time Grubbner called it quits for the day, everyone was more than happy to get out of the wet woods and back to Fallport and the motel.

Sage seemed unfazed though, which might’ve irritated Zita if she didn’t think about how close the conditions were to what he probably experienced on a regular basis. Of course, he probably wasn’t standing in the cold rain, but flying through it instead. Which she thought might actually be worse.

Every time she’d turned around throughout the day, Sage was there. With a towel, holding an umbrella over her as she tended to someone. He’d even driven her and the camera operator into town without complaint.

When she’d tried to protest, saying she was sure he had things to do, he’d simply shaken his head, insisting that tomorrow was his busy day, the one with the choppers. So she’d given in and taken the help and comfort he offered.

It was wonderful to have someone at her back. She was used to it when she worked on an ambulance, but not in the same way. Sage was there not because it was his job, but because he wanted to be. Because he cared about her. She loved that feeling.

Zita also loved waking up in his arms…though she’d missed falling asleep in them twice now, because she was already dead to the world by the time he’d come back to her room.

But after two nights, she wanted more than just sharing a bed. It was getting difficult not to move her hands to more intimate places when she was with him. To not tell him how much she wanted him. To hide the intensity of her attraction.

She had the feeling he was enjoying their courtship. That he was old fashioned when it came to dating. And she was okay with that, it was a refreshing change from the men she’d met who took her on one date and expected that was all that was required to get her into bed.

But it was frustrating that he didn’t even seem interested in getting her into bed…not so much as a single inappropriate touch.

And now here she was, headed back to the motel, her clothes damp, her hair frizzy. Feeling tired, hungry, frustrated and, yes, grumpy, because the man she wanted was acting more like a friend than the lover she desperately wanted.

So when he glanced at her and asked what she wanted for dinner, she sighed. “I’m not hungry. Just bring me to the motel.”

“You have to eat, Zita,” he said calmly. “I’ll drop you off so you can shower and get warm, and I’ll go out and grab us something.”

Now she could add angry with herself, for not having the guts to tell him she didn’t want food. She wanted him to stop tiptoeing around their attraction. To either make a move, or maybe tell her that he’d changed his mind and decided they should just be friends.

But she could hardly hold his reticence against him when she didn’t have the courage to speak up either. She was an adult who should be able to go after what she wanted.

And he was being a gentleman, not a horndog. Which she would appreciate if she wasn’t so frustrated.

To her horror, tears formed in her eyes, and anything she might’ve said got stuck in her throat. She turned her head to look out the side window as she tried desperately to gain control of her emotions. All she wanted was to be alone to get her head on straight. To find the courage to tell Sage what she wanted.

Sage didn’t say anything, simply drove them to the motel. After parking in front of room twelve, he got out of the Jeep and hurried to her side. Zita had just opened the door when he reached her. He took her head in his hands and tilted her face up. He frowned a little at seeing the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“You’re exhausted,” he said softly.

“Yes, but that’s not what’s bothering me,” she whispered back.