13. Boone
There was nothing more intoxicating than watching Juniper cook. In her baggy t-shirt and leggings with her hair cascading down her back, she was a vision, and I was hooked.
I was sitting at the peninsula with a glass of iced tea in front of me, watching as she moved around the kitchen, collecting bowls, utensils, and ingredients. Every time she stopped to drop something off on the counter in front of me, she smiled. I parted my lips to complain that I should really be cooking while she rested, but she beat me to speaking.
“Sit, Boone. You’ve cooked me so many meals, it’s only fair that I repay the debt.”
I wanted to tell her that there was no debt to repay. That I was honored to cook for her. That she gave me a purpose. She was my distraction. But I knew the moment I spoke those words, she would know what they meant.
I was falling for her.
Sure, we’d only known each other for a short time, but she was the air I breathed. She filled my thoughts every moment of every day. Being in her presence gave me the light I needed to continue. She was the puzzle piece that I was missing.
And I didn’t know what I was going to do when the time came for me to leave.
Her insistence that I go on a date with Meaghan was like a dagger to the heart. But in a weird way, I was grateful she woke me up to my focus on her. After last night with Kevin, I needed to be prepared that she might go back to that loser. If distracting myself with Meaghan would make that hurt less, I would keep that bandage in my back pocket.
But that was a problem for future Boone. Tonight, I was going to enjoy it being just me and Juniper. No one else.
“Have you ever had chicken parm?” Juniper asked as she set the package of raw chicken down on the counter before removing a knife from the drawer and slicing open the plastic wrap.
I settled back on the barstool and folded my arms. “My mom made it once for her boyfriend…” My voice trailed off as I realized what I just said.
Juniper’s gaze drifted to mine like she realized what I’d just said as well. Her lips parted before she smiled. I’d never mentioned my mom to her before. I dropped my hands to my legs and rubbed my thighs as I cleared my throat.
“Your mom?” she asked, her gaze turning tender. My heart pounded so hard I feared it would leap from my chest.
I cleared my throat again. “Yeah, my mom.”
Juniper lowered the knife to the countertop and focused on me. “Tell me about her.”
I wanted to tell Juniper everything. I just couldn’t face the look on her face when she realized how I’d failed the one person I was supposed to protect. But her wish was my command. I would tell her anything if it meant she would continue looking at me the way she was looking at me right now.
“She was dating…” I paused as I tried to remember the deadbeat’s name. “Ri—Rick at the time.”
Her eyebrows went up as she returned her focus to the chicken. “At the time?”
“Yeah. Mom dated quite a few pieces of work growing up.”
She was quiet, no doubt noticing the bite in my tone. It that came up every time I talked about the men who abused my mother. She had pulled the chicken breasts from the package and placed them in a bowl. Then brought them to the sink and turned on the faucet.
“And she made Rick chicken parm?” she asked as she turned to look at me while the bowl filled with water.
Her expression was so soft and inviting that all my previous anger and regret melted away. I didn’t want to be that guy. I wanted to be the man she thought I was every time she looked at me.
“That would be a loose interpretation of what she did. The breading only stuck to one side, and she heated the oil so hot that it charred the chicken and set off the smoke alarm. She had to dump it in the backyard, and we drove to get fast food instead.”
She laughed, the sound of her voice sent a rush of pleasure through my body. It was the best kind of music. “So, it was a bad experience,” she said as she turned off the faucet and walked over to the paper towels and unrolled a handful.
“I’d say that.” Especially since Rick came home drunk to find the house in shambles, and he beat Mom until she blacked out that night. But the time I spent with my mom at McDonald’s was a happier memory.
Juniper turned her attention to the chicken and swished it around in the water. She held up a chicken breast and pressed it between her fingers so water dripped back into the bowl before she set it down on the paper towels she’d laid out.
She glanced over at me and I could tell that she wanted to ask me a question, but she wasn’t sure if she should. “What?” I asked. I didn’t want her to ask me about my mother, but at the same time I wanted to tell her everything.
She chewed her bottom lip as she narrowed her eyes. “Where is your mom now?”
I watched her, knowing that if I told her, there was no going back. She was going to have more questions and there was no way I wouldn’t answer them. Maybe this was for the better. If she realized what I’d done, she’d walk away. From the way I needed to be around her, I knew I wouldn’t be the one to leave.
“I—I mean, if you want to tell me.” Her cheeks flushed as she returned her focus to the chicken. “You’re an idiot, Juniper,” she whispered to herself.
“She died.”
Juniper’s body tensed before she glanced over at me. “Oh, Boone. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay. I want you to know.” The last sentence was out before I could police the words or lessen the intensity with which I spoke them.
My meaning wasn’t lost on Juniper. Her body stilled as her gaze stayed focused on me. I held her gaze, wanting her to know that the words I’d said were true. I wanted her to know all the good things about me. I wanted her to see me with her goodness. I wanted to be the man that her and her family seemed to think I was.
I wanted it more than I wanted anything else in my life.
“How did she die?” Juniper finally whispered.
What did I say to that? The truth? Telling the truth would cause Juniper to pull far, far away from me. I couldn’t stomach the look she would give me. I needed to hang on to her affection for a bit longer. “She got sick,” was all I could get out.
Juniper’s gaze turned sympathetic. “I’m so sorry. That must have been so hard for you.”
All I could do was nod.
Juniper finished rinsing the chicken. She dumped out the bowl of water and then began to pat off the chicken breasts. I enjoyed watching her, but hated myself for not being completely truthful. Mom had been sick, but it had been in her mind, not her body. Juniper probably thought she had cancer or something. I could have saved my mom if I’d been stronger, but I hadn’t.
Her death was my fault.
“Well, I hope you enjoy this meal,” Juniper said, tearing me from my reverie. She’d finished patting the chicken and was washing her hands.
“I’m sure I will,” I said, offering her a smile.
She blushed and I loved the way her cheeks turned pink. She didn’t respond as she moved to open the egg carton and pulled out an egg. She cracked the shell on the counter and brought it up over the small pie tin she’d pulled from the cabinet. She hooked her fingers inside the shell and pulled it apart.
Just as the egg and yolk plopped into the dish, she sucked in her breath. Her face paled and she dropped the shell into the egg. Her hand flew to her mouth while the other went to her stomach. She bent over and rushed from the room.
Without thinking, I was off the chair and following after her. As soon as she was in the bathroom, I heard the toilet lid open, and she was heaving into the bowl. My heart ached for her. I wanted to help, I just didn’t know how.
She pushed her hair out of the way before her hand dropped to the ground and she heaved again. I stepped behind her and gathered her hair in my hands, pulling it off her neck. She made a small, whimpering sound—probably trying to tell me not to worry about it—but before she could protest, she returned to vomiting once more.
I stood behind her, holding her hair back until she finished and flushed the toilet. Her body was limp as she moved to lean against the tub next to her. I let go of her hair, and it fell around her shoulders as she closed her eyes and leaned forward to hold her forehead in her hand.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered.
I frowned. “Don’t be.”
She glanced up at me from between her fingers. “You just heard me puke.” She closed her fingers and crisscrossed her legs so she could rest her elbow on her knee.
“Not the first time a girl has thrown up in front of me.” Maybe boot camp didn’t count, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
She peeked back up at me. “Really?”
I dropped down so I was at eye level to her, resting my elbows on my knees. “Really.” I reached over and unrolled some toilet paper. Then I reached forward and started to wipe some of the throw-up that had gotten in her hair.
Her gaze followed my movement, and she sucked her breath in before pulling the toilet paper from my hand and quickly taking care of the rest. “Stop being so nice,” she whispered as she leaned forward to throw away the toilet paper.
“Stop being nice?” I asked. I hadn’t moved, and now that she’d straightened, she was inches away from me.
“Yes. Stop being so nice to me. I just threw up on myself, and you’re taking care of me in a way Kevin never wo”—” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard as tears filled her eyes.
I hated that that man hurt her like he did. She deserved so much better than what he was giving her.
“A way Kevin never would?” I finished for her.
She pinched her lips together and nodded. She looked so tired both emotionally and physically. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted her not to worry about her safety or the safety of the baby.
“Kevin’s an ass,” blurted from my lips.
Her eyes widened, and I wondered for a moment if I’d said the wrong thing—even if it was the truth. But I was right, and I was going to stick to it. I held up my hand to stop her protest. “You’re carrying his baby. He should treat you like a queen. Hold your hair back, cook you dinner, carry you to bed…” My voice drifted off as I stared at her. “You should be the most important person to him.”
Juniper was staring at me now. A tear slid down her cheek. I hated to see her cry. I reached forward and caught the tear with the tip of my finger. I brought my hand back, rubbing my thumb with my forefinger.
“I should shower,” she said as she moved to stand, only to stop and grab her head like she was dizzy.
“Whoa, whoa,” I said as I reached out to catch her if she needed it. “Just sit.”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her stomach and closing her eyes. “I get nauseous when I stand.” She blew out her breath. “I’m looking forward to this going away in the second trimester. At least then I won’t go walking around with throw-up in my hair.”
Silence fell around us as Juniper kept her eyes closed. I glanced around, wondering if I should make the offer that lingered on the tip of my tongue. I used to wash my mom’s hair in the sink when she was too weak to stand in the shower…I could do the same for Juniper. Feeling frustrated with my indecision, I decided to act. After all, it was my job to protect and take care of her. She was my one and only focus.
“Come with me,” I whispered as I extended my hand for her to grab.
She eyed me before she slipped her hand in mine. “Okay,” she whispered.
I helped her to stand before I wrapped my arm around her back and swept her knees up. I pulled her to my chest. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”
“Hang on, I need some mouthwash,” she whispered as I passed by the sink. I set her feet down onto the ground but kept my hand around her back as she hurriedly tipped the bottle to her mouth, swished, and then spat it into the sink. She turned to me and smiled. “I’m ready.”
She didn’t ask questions as I carried her through the house and into the kitchen. I sat her down on a chair next to the table, then moved to take care of the egg in the bowl. I got a container for the chicken and put it in the fridge. I figured she wasn’t in the mood to eat quite yet.
After I cleaned the sink and cleared off the counter, I made my way back to her and offered my hand. She lifted her arm, and I picked her up once more and carried her to the sink.
I glanced down at her. “Do you trust me?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer but praying that I hadn’t overestimated our relationship.
She eyed me before she nodded. “Yes.”
My heart surged, but I didn’t linger on her response. I pulled her closer to my chest and lifted her high enough to clear the counter.
She squeaked. “Boone, what are you doing?”
I glanced down to see her staring up at me. Her eyes were so wide and trusting that my heart swelled.
“I used to do this for Mom,” I said softly as I set her down on the counter next to the sink.
She drew her eyebrows together. “You used to do what?”
“My mom wasn’t the best at picking men. There were a few who would abuse her. Once they left, she would be too weak to stand for a shower, so I used to wash her hair in the sink.” I swallowed and closed my eyes as emotions rose in my stomach. “To get the blood from her hair.”
Juniper took my hands in hers. “Oh, Boone,” she whispered.
I opened my eyes to see her staring at me. I hated that she looked so sad when all I wanted was to see her smile. I reached out my free hand, and my fingers lingered next to her cheek before I mustered the courage to tuck her hair behind her ear. It may have been my imagination, but I swore she leaned into my touch.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, my voice low with emotion.
I slipped my hand from hers and made my way down the hallway to her bedroom. After gathering a few towels and the shampoo and conditioner from her shower, I made my way back to the kitchen. Juniper was still sitting on the counter, her legs swinging and her arms wrapped around her stomach as she stared at the floor in front of her.
I cleared my throat and her gaze snapped to mine. The smile on her lips made my heart soar. “Ready?” I asked.
She nodded. “Only if you are.”
I made my way to her and set the items down on the counter. After fashioning a makeshift headrest next to the sink, I rested my hand on her shoulder. “Lean back.”
She obeyed, scooting down the counter and then lying back as I held up her hair so it didn’t get caught. I made sure she was comfortable before I dropped her hair into the sink. I flipped on the faucet and waited for the water to warm before I pulled the spray wand out and started to wet her hair.
“So, you took care of your mom?” Juniper asked.
Her eyes were closed and her eyelashes splayed across her cheeks. She was beautiful. I must have been staring too long because, a moment later, her eyes opened and she glanced up at me. “Boone?”
I snapped my attention back to her hair and cleared my throat. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I said as I made sure that the hair at the nape of her neck was wet enough. My entire body was zapping with electricity from all the points of contact I was making with her right now.
“You were a good son,” she said as she closed her eyes once more.
Her words felt like a dagger to my heart. As much as I wanted to agree with her—to believe that I was the man she thought I was—I couldn’t. I knew the truth. I just didn’t know how to tell her.
I returned the wand and grabbed her shampoo and lathered up my hands. I slipped my fingers into her hair and started to massage. The look of satisfaction on her face had my heart pounding. When she let out a soft moan, it took all my strength to keep my mind focused on the task at hand.
Thankfully, I finished soon and was able to rinse the shampoo from her hair. I took less time applying the conditioner, which really was a mercy move for myself. Once her hair was clean, I flipped off the faucet and squeezed the excess water from her hair. Then I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her head.
I put my hand under her upper back and helped her sit up. She smiled at me once she was fully sitting.
“Are you sure you weren’t a hair stylist in the past?” she asked as she tipped her head to the side and let the towel fall into her hands. Then she started working the towel down her hair.
“Nope, not a hair stylist.” I dried my hands off with a nearby kitchen towel and then shoved them into the front pockets of my jeans.
She smiled as she nodded. “I know. Navy SEAL,” she whispered.
I drew my gaze up to hers and nodded. “Yeah,” I said.
“Well, thanks for this. I feel so much better.” She set the towel down on the counter next to her and then moved to get off the counter.
Before I knew what I was doing, I closed the space between us, wrapped my arm around her waist, and slowly lowered her down onto her feet. Her hand went to my chest to steady herself, and I could feel her gaze. It was trained on my face.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Her feet were safely planted on the ground, but I hadn’t let her go. Instead, I did the stupid thing and glanced down at her. The moment my gaze met hers, I realized that I never wanted to let her go. I wanted her to be mine.
“Of course,” I whispered, hoping that she would understand just how I felt about her from those two words.
“I think I’ll go get changed now,” she said. She didn’t pull away, instead, she smiled up at me as if she were waiting for me to let her go.
“Right,” I said as I dropped my arm and stepped back. “Go, get dressed.”
She nodded.
“I’ll work on the dinner.”
Realization passed over her face as she turned to me. “Oh, Boone, I’m so sorry,” she said.
I shook my head. “Just go.” I shrugged. “I like cooking.” What I didn’t say was, I like cooking for you. But that was the truth. She was the only person I wanted to cook for. The only person I ever wanted to cook for.
She nodded and walked over to the doorway that led to the hall. Then she stopped. “Thanks, Boone. Thanks for taking care of me.” Her intoxicating eyes met mine as she smiled at me.
“My pleasure,” I said.
With that, she turned and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me wondering what the hell I’d done and how I was ever going to walk away from this woman when the time came.
I was smitten. And if I didn’t get out now, I doubted I would ever be able to.