Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(34)

As he ran a hand over his face, he kind of liked the way it felt. Maybe he’d keep the beard even longer.

Zara had hung her shirt and pants over the towel rack, and they were slowly dripping on the floor. He’d move them into the shower when he was done.

But it wasn’t her shirt or pants that caught his attention. It was the tiny scrap of black cotton underwear that made his heart clench. It had two holes in it that he could see, and the elastic was stretched out.

He was upset because those panties seemed to bring home to him just how hard her life had been. She’d had to claw and fight for everything. She should be wearing something lacy that would make her feel sexy and confident in herself and her femininity. But instead she’d made do with worn-out cotton panties. It made him sad and angry at the same time.

There was also a long Ace bandage hanging next to her pants. She obviously used it to bind her breasts, to flatten them to add credence to her disguise as a boy.

He wanted to shred it with his bare hands and throw it in the trash. Wanted to stomp out of the bathroom and tell her she never had to do that to herself again.

Instead, he took a deep breath and controlled himself.

He was proud of Zara for doing what she needed to in order to survive. What kind of underwear she wore made no difference in her daily life. But he had to wonder if she’d been hurt or assaulted in the time she’d been on her own. She likely had been . . . and the thought made him almost crazy. No one should have to be subjected to violence, but because he had such strong feelings about Zara, he especially hated that she had been.

He couldn’t change her past, but he sure as hell could influence her future. No one would make her do anything she didn’t want to do again. He’d make sure of it.

Quickly stripping off the clothes Zara had bought for him, Meat stepped into the shower, refusing to think about the fact she had stood in this exact spot, naked as the day she was born, not ten minutes ago. He picked up the bar of soap—again trying not to think about how it had recently been all over Zara’s body—and began to clean himself.

The faster he got through his shower, the faster he could be near Zara again. Meat had never felt this . . . urgency and desire to simply get to know another person before. He hated to even spend ten minutes out of her sight, because that was ten minutes he wouldn’t be talking to her. Figuring out her likes and dislikes.

Ignoring the twinges of pain from his body, Meat did his best to hurry through his shower. He had a hug he needed to give . . . and suddenly that was way more important than anything else.





Chapter Twelve

Zara had sat on the edge of the bed, afraid to touch any of Meat’s computer equipment and not quite comfortable enough to completely relax. True to his word, Meat had taken just about ten minutes on the dot to shower and change.

When he came out of the bathroom, she could only stare. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

“Sorry,” he’d said when he emerged. “Gray’s going to look at my ribs, and it’s easier to just leave my shirt off for the meantime. If it bothers you, I can put it on.”

Zara simply shook her head. Bother her? No, seeing his just-about-perfect chest wasn’t a bother. He had a slight sprinkling of hair and not an ounce of extra fat on his body. The nasty bruises on his stomach and chest looked bad, but they didn’t take away from the fact that Hunter Snow was built like a brick house.

They stared at each other for a long moment before a knock sounded at the door, scaring the shit out of Zara.

“Easy, Zar, I’m sure it’s Arrow or Gray.”

Actually, it was both. As well as the rest of his friends. Even Black was there. He immediately stretched out on one of the beds after Ro ordered him to get off his “fucking feet” before he fell over.

The men were gruff and blunt with each other, but oddly, Zara found she liked that. She was slowly feeling more comfortable around them.

Arrow placed two large bags on the floor by the bed and a third on the small table in the room. Zara was more interested in the smells coming from whatever was in that third bag than what was in the other two.

He immediately started unpacking the bag with the food—and Zara could only stare in disbelief. Where he’d found all that food in such a short period of time, around here, she had no idea, but her mouth immediately started watering.

He unpacked two containers filled with soup, several Styrofoam boxes with broccoli and carrots, and a final large container holding some sort of meat.

Zara barely heard what was being said around her; all her attention was on the food.

Arrow handed her one of the containers of soup and a spoon. Without pause, Zara took it over to a corner and slowly sat. She pulled her knees up and held her treasure close to her chest as she peeled the lid off. Fragrant steam rose from the soup, and she inhaled deeply. She stirred it, watching pieces of chicken and fresh vegetables float to the top.

Ignoring the spoon, she brought the container up to her mouth and took a tentative sip, not knowing how hot the delicious-looking liquid was. Her eyes came up—

And she froze when she saw all six men staring at her with varying looks of concern, anger, and sympathy on their faces.

She slowly lowered the soup and searched for something to say that would break the tension.

“It’s all yours, Zara,” Arrow said gently. “The rest of us have already eaten.”