Chapter Eight
Y ou .
He couldn’t stop thinking about that. Couldn’t stop turning it over and over in his mind. Damn that woman.
Getting up this morning and heading to work felt like a farce because he was living for that afternoon break. He was living for their agreed-upon meetup. He didn’t care about anything else. He lost the ability to do it. He just wanted her.
He had waited all this time for her. And then last night she had...
She had managed to stick a ruthlessly sharp knife blade into that wound, and the painful cut had let out some of the poison.
He didn’t know how she had done it. How she’d so incisively given him a truth he needed, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.
He didn’t need for her to understand him in addition to being the hottest sex he’d ever had.
He didn’t actually need for her to be anything, and yet, she was doing her best to be everything.
You .
And by the time the afternoon rolled around, his blood was thundering.
He practically tore the door off its hinges when he got into the house, and when he saw her standing in the kitchen, barefoot and wearing a sundress that came up well past her knees he just about wrote poetry. Or perhaps a prayer of thanks to whoever had invented the sundress.
It was a magnificent work of art. The creation he had never fully paused to consider or appreciate until this moment. Until he had beheld the glory of one on Wendy.
And he was done playing. He was done waiting.
They’d set their boundaries, and he’d made it very clear what he was doing, and what he wasn’t doing. Because of that, he felt like he didn’t need to waste time with pleasantries now.
“You look pretty. I want you on your knees.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. Here.”
But because he was a gentleman, he went over to the stove and took down a tea towel. Then he put the folded-up fabric onto the floor, cushions for her. Because he didn’t want her discomfort. He just wanted a little obedience. He just wanted...
This was a fantasy he hadn’t let himself have. And now he wanted it. And he wanted to hold on to it. Tight.
Slowly, she sank down to the floor, her knees coming down to the center of that folded-up towel.
In his kitchen.
Holy hell.
All this trying to stay clear of domesticity, and he was doing a great job twisting and perverting some kind of housewife fantasy.
But he liked it. He couldn’t help it.
What did he want? Just from his life in general. What had he ever wanted? Past the glory of the rodeo. Past being the one who picked up the slack for people who let go of their responsibilities.
What was left for him?
Was he going to live alone forever?
The years, the long lonely years, stretched out before him, and he realized why he never thought past the rodeo. Why he had put off retirement. Why he had put off this—buying a house. Making a life outside the rodeo.
Because he was clear-eyed. Because he wasn’t an optimist. Because he didn’t do hope, or dreams, and that meant the future was...
He could hardly even see it.
And that was sad.
But this wasn’t.
So he was going to push all that to the side, and just be here. With her.
Because all she needed was him. And all he needed was her. That was for damned sure.
He moved closer to her and undid the buckle on his jeans.
And he suddenly felt unworthy of the gift she was giving him. It had been a follow-through of the game they were playing last night, and now it felt like something he maybe didn’t deserve.
But she was looking up at him with wide, expectant eyes, and he was powerless to turn away.
He shifted the fabric of his pants, his underwear, and exposed himself to her. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and slid her elegant fingers along his length. Then she moved in, taking the tip of him into her mouth, before sucking him in deeply. She was confident. And more than that, her enjoyment was clear.
She wasn’t shy—her eye contact bold, the sounds of pleasure coming from deep within her throat intense and raw.
He pushed his fingertips through her hair, held her there, held himself steady.
He didn’t think he would survive this.
Even in this, he was so very aware it was her. Even in this, it could be no one else. He felt honored. Which was such a weird-ass way to think of a blowjob. But it wasn’t just a blowjob. Because nothing with her was ever that simple. And it never could be.
He was close. So close, and he didn’t want it. Not like this. He moved away from her, and she looked dazed, confused.
“Didn’t you like it?”
“I loved it,” he said, taking her hand and lifting her to her feet. And he kissed her, open-mouthed and hot. “A little bit too much. I need you. To be inside of you. Because I’ve got a month with you, Wendy, and there isn’t going to be enough time. I’m not wasting it.”
Something that looked like grief danced over her features, and he did his best to ignore that. They stripped each other naked, and made it as far as the living room rug. He pulled her over the top of him, and thrust up inside of her. Let her set the tempo of the lovemaking this time. Let her have control. She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder, planted her hands on his chest and rode him, the view provided by the position making him feel like his heart might explode.
Then she closed her eyes and let her head fall back, small incoherent sounds issued from her lips creating a glorious soundtrack to his need.
Her climax came quick, and he was grateful, because that meant he could give her two.
As she continued to move over him, he pressed his thumb right there, to that sensitized bundle of nerves, and began to stroke her. She shivered, the second wave of her desire cresting as she cried out his name on a shudder and a shout. And then he followed her over the edge. It had been so much faster than he wanted it to be. But it had been perfect.
That woman. Damn that woman.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said without thinking.
“I have the girls.”
“Well, all of you have dinner with me tonight. I missed you last night.”
“You left last night on purpose.”
“I know I did. But I don’t want to be alone in this house tonight, and I don’t want to be without you, and I don’t care if that makes sense.”
“It’s the sex talking,” she said, throwing her arm over her face and rolling over onto her back.
“Sure it is. But it’s great sex, so it can talk as loud as it wants.”
“You’re impossible, do you know that?”
“Whether I do or don’t is sort of immaterial, don’t you think?”
“No.” She frowned and rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. “I have a question for you.”
“What is that?”
“Does anyone take care of you?”
“What?”
“Your brother left, and you made it sound like you got a lot of responsibility afterward?”
“Not a lot. It’s just there were a lot of assumptions about Buck’s place in the family. A lot of pressure for him to be great at riding in the rodeo, to help my dad with the ranch. He was the oldest, and then I became the de facto oldest. I had to pick up where he left off. But I already had my own place in the family, and nobody stepped in to fill that. So it was just a matter of doing a little bit of double duty. But I don’t resent it.”
“You’re lying. You do resent it a little.”
“Okay. Maybe. But like anything else, what difference does it make if I do or don’t? It is what it is.”
“Maybe. But if you admit your resentment, it might inspire you to figure out how to live your life a little bit differently, don’t you think?”
“There is no different for me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t deserve to be upset about Buck,” he said, his voice hard.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m the reason he left.”
Her eyes went round. “You...you’re the reason?”
“I didn’t mean to be. But he was...he was a mess after the accident. Not physically. Mentally. It reminded me too much of other grief. Other times. The thing is, I know life is hard. But you have to be...you have to be realistic. You can’t sit around hoping for things to be different, you have to deal with what’s in front of you.”
“And that’s what you told him.”
He nodded once. “Yes. It’s what I told him. And the next day he was gone.”
“Boone...”
“I don’t deserve your sympathy, it’s misplaced. But I don’t feel guilty either. Buck was imploding, and he was going to do what he was going to do. I nudged him, I guess, with some harsh truth. But like I said, I don’t wallow. I just deal.”
She was silent for a moment. “Except for you dealing means...not even planning your future? Not wanting anything?”
“It’s not quite like that. But I take things as they come, knowing there are certain expectations and I’m going to fulfill them.”
“You’re just going to ride bulls forever?”
“No. I’m retiring.”
“Oh. Well. That feels like big news, Boone.”
“I’ll probably end up being the commissioner. After my dad retires. That’s part of the deal. That was kind of supposed to be Buck’s thing, but now it’s not going to be. Because he’s not around.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m kind of uninterested in that bit of trivia. I don’t care what I want. What I want doesn’t really matter. What I want is secondary to what’s going to happen. For my family.”
“What you want isn’t trivial.”
He wasn’t in the business of being self-indulgent, and there were limits to how deep he wanted to get into a conversation like this. But it was hard to hold back with her, so he didn’t.
Because they were here, and she was beside him, naked and soft and the epitome of every desire he’d ever had.
“What I want has been trivial for years. No one asked me if I wanted to lose a sister. No one asked if I wanted my brother to go through what he did. And most of all, since the moment I met you, Wendy, what I wanted hasn’t meant a damned thing.”
She looked down and then back up, a sheen of tears glimmering there, and he hated that he’d put them there. And he loved it.
Because it mattered, this thing between them. It mattered now and it always would.
“I don’t like that, Boone.”
“You know it’s true. We had to do the right thing.”
“We did the right thing,” she said. She scooted closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder, then leaned in, her breast pressing against him. “And this is our reward.”
She felt hollow and sad after her exchange with Boone earlier.
This is our reward .
Was it? Was this all?
Was this it?
This furtive, intense sex that was trying to compensate for all their years of pent-up desire? Maybe that was all. Boone wasn’t offering more. But Boone was also...
He was stoic and strong. He was commanding and he was so damned good.
All things that were beginning to indicate to her he was a champion martyr.
What I want is trivial.
He claimed he didn’t blame himself for Buck leaving, but he clearly did. He seemed to almost relish things being hard.
He was good at being uncomfortable.
She would have said a bull rider had to be, but in the grand scheme of things, she didn’t think Daniel did discomfort. Ever.
Eight seconds of physical pain, and then alcohol to numb the aftereffects. Sex when he wanted it with who he wanted it with, while his wife kept house and peace at home.
Not Boone.
He rode bulls, not because he wanted to—though he claimed he’d found passion for it—but because he was fulfilling the destiny of his older brother, who was gone now.
He took care of his parents and worked to fill a space his dad wanted him in because he felt like he had to. Because of their losses, she assumed. It had started with his sister, that much was clear.
Even wanting her was an extension of just how happy Boone was to sit in discomfort.
He seemed happy enough to indulge with her, but there was a ticking clock on that indulgence. Wendy was starting to feel wounded by that. Crushed by it.
She was starting to question it.
Boone seemed to have made his peace with the pain in life.
She wondered if he had any idea how to have joy.
Do you?
Ouch.
That was a dark question from her psyche she didn’t really care to answer.
But then she picked the girls up from school and she knew the answer was a definitive yes. She knew how to have joy.
She had it in spades, even while she had something less than joy, and that might be one of the greatest tricks in life.
To be able to feel this immense pure joy while in the middle of such a massive shift. While in the middle of questioning everything she knew about herself and her life, and where she was headed.
“How was school?” she asked, once Sadie was buckled in and Mikey had finished a monologue about art class.
“Great,” said Sadie.
Which was what Sadie would say no matter what.
“What was especially great?”
“Oh nothing.” She sounded vacant, and guilt made Wendy’s heart squeeze.
Had there been something going on at school that she’d missed while she was busy being consumed by thoughts of torrid sex?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mom.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talking will make you feel better,” Mikey said from the back.
“Shut up, Mikey, I’m not you!”
“Okay, that’s enough. You don’t need to tell Mikey to shut up. She’s trying to be nice.”
“She’s being pushy, you both are. If Dad were here, he would know not to push me.”
Because your dad doesn’t care as much as I do.
Wow. Thank God she’d managed to hold back those words, because that wasn’t fair at all. Daniel had been a dick to her, but when he was home, he was a good dad. The girls were mad at him right now, but they wouldn’t always be.
Well, Mikey always would be a little. She had a pure soul that was rooted in honesty, and in some ways, Wendy thought her daughter was a little too like her. Like she wanted maybe a little bit too much from a world that was never going to give it. That made her unforgiving and rigid sometimes, and also made her say things to her grumpy older sister like talking will make you feel better , because she only ever said what she believed.
Sadie, though, would forgive him. Because Sadie wanted things not to hurt so much, and forgiving her dad would make that relationship hurt less.
Wendy needed her girls to be able to forgive him.
She needed to keep some of the spite to herself.
You have Boone for your spite.
Well, that was almost a worse thought. Boone wasn’t her human crutch, and he sure as hell wasn’t there to just listen to her endlessly complain about her marriage.
He would say he was happy to do that, she knew.
Because that was Boone entirely.
What did his feelings matter?
What did his desires matter?
She thought of him ordering her down onto her knees. With a cushion firmly in place for her comfort.
She turned her car down the driveway to the ranch, and had the sudden image of one of her first dates with Daniel, at a pizza parlor that had pinball machines. She’d watched him play for a couple of hours, and she’d thought then that she was so dizzy with her infatuation for him she might as well be one of the balls in the machine.
She felt like a pinball now.
Worried about her kids. Worried about their relationship with their dad.
Flashbacks to giving a blowjob to the hottest man she knew.
Ping. Ping.
And right into the hole.
“We’re having dinner at Boone’s tonight.”
“I’m not in the mood!” Sadie wailed. “I don’t want to be social. I just want to have a plate of food and go to my room.”
Well, this was wonderful.
“You can have a plate of food at Boone’s and then leave, no one is asking you to stay and chat all night.”
“You can’t just dump this on me.”
“I can’t just dump you eating dinner next door to the house we’re staying in, with someone you like a lot, who has generously given us a place to stay?”
“Yes!” She said that as if it was obvious, and also as if Wendy was an actual monster.
“Fine, Sadie, I’ll leave you a plate at home, then.”
“You’re leaving me by myself?”
She said that tremulously and angrily, and if Wendy weren’t also overwrought, she might have laughed. “Unsolvable problem, Sadie,” she said. She was often reminding her daughter that she loved to present her mother with a problem, then when given solutions, she had a ready spate of reasons they wouldn’t work.
Which was fifteen and fair, she guessed, but why did everything have to be a struggle?
“I just don’t know why we have to go to Boone’s.”
“Because he is my friend and I wanted to spend the evening with him, and he wanted to see you both because he hasn’t.”
“I want to go to Boone’s,” said Mikey. “I haven’t even been inside the house and we’ve been here for four days.”
That earned a growl from Sadie, and Wendy accepted that there would be no consensus. Which was just life and parenting sometimes, but she didn’t like it especially.
She knew she could be a hard-ass about Sadie’s attitude if she wanted to be. But the thing was, Wendy had an attitude about things a lot of the time too. She’d smashed Daniel’s headlights in after all. And yes, it had felt deserved.
But she knew all of this felt real and deserved to Sadie.
Maybe also you feel a lot of guilt over the whole thing.
Maybe.
Which wasn’t fair, it wasn’t her fault.
Not the divorce...you wanting to spend time with Boone.
Yeah. Okay fine.
They got home and Sadie went straight to her room while Wendy started dinner with Mikey sitting at the kitchen table. She could have cooked at Boone’s, but she would rather be here talking to Mikey while she worked, and in close proximity to the melting down teenager.
“I don’t know what her deal is,” Mikey said.
“She’s fifteen.”
“I won’t act that way when I’m fifteen.”
Her heart squeezed tight. Oh, Mikey. You will.
“Thanks, honey.”
“What are you making?”
“Lasagna.”
“Yum.”
At least she was doing something right in Mikey’s world. Right now, she’d take it.
And after she was done with dinner and it was time to head to Boone’s, Sadie appeared in a hoodie, with her hands stuffed in her kangaroo pouch pockets and the hood firmly over her head. But she appeared.
“Lasagna?” she asked.
“Yes. I can dish you a plate and you can go back to your cave, or you can come over for a little while.”
She shrugged. “I’ll come over.”
So they made their way over to Boone’s with a big bowl of salad, a pan of lasagna and no small amount of resentment from Sadie, like a parade. If only a very small one.
Boone opened the door and grinned. “Thanks for the dinner party.”
And she noticed Sadie was charmed by him, even if reluctantly.
The house was better organized now, even though they’d spent the last two days having sex, which had taken up a good portion of her cleaning time. Apparently when she was motivated she could get a lot done.
But to his credit, Boone had set the table nicely for them, and he had an array of soft drinks in the fridge, which she knew was for the girls.
“Thank you,” she said softly, as the girls dished their plates and took their seats.
“How is everything?” Boone asked.
Thankfully Sadie didn’t implode and Mikey took the lead, talking about her art classes and her new friends with a lot of enthusiasm.
It made Wendy feel conflicted because Mikey was clearly finding a group she enjoyed here, even after four days, and Wendy was planning on going somewhere else after the month ended.
You were planning on getting away from Boone’s charity, it doesn’t mean you have to leave.
No, it didn’t.
But how could she live near him without...
Why was she so afraid of that? Why couldn’t she entertain the idea of a future with him?
She knew why. She knew all the logical reasons why. You shouldn’t go from being married to being with someone new, and the stakes were so high. Her daughters had been through enough and she didn’t want to drag them through any extra instability. And it was possible she felt pressure to be the most perfect parent so they would always stay on her side.
Well. She wasn’t going to win that game. She was the parent most actively parenting, so she was going to be the bad one sometimes and there was nothing she could do about that.
She looked across the table and met Boone’s gaze.
And resisted the feeling of rightness that washed through her.
This had been a weird mistake.
A form of torture.
She hadn’t thought it through.
Sitting around a family dinner table with him and eating all together. Seeing where he could fit into her life. Into the most important spaces of it.
“And how was your day?” he asked, now looking directly at Wendy.
She blushed. She could feel it. Her whole face went hot and she hoped—she really hoped—her children would continue to be the preteen/teenage narcissists she could generally count on them to be and not notice subtle shifts in their mother.
“It was good, thank you. And yours?” She nearly coughed as she took a bite of her salad.
“Best I’ve had in a while.”
She almost kicked him under the table.
True to her word, Sadie melted away as soon as dinner was over, but Mikey lingered, and Boone and Wendy ended up at the sink doing dishes while she chattered about the drawing techniques she was experimenting with, and how her favorite YouTubers did certain kinds of animation styles.
Wendy looked sideways at Boone, who looked down at her and smiled. Her shoulder touched his, and it was her turn to feel like she was in middle school.
Her stomach fluttered.
And without thinking she leaned in and brushed her arm against his very deliberately, which earned her a grin.
And another stomach flutter for good measure.
“But I really need to get some alcohol markers, because I think it would help with making the lines on my art crisper.”
That jolted Wendy back into the moment. “Oh. Okay.”
They finished up the dishes and she walked back to the house with Mikey.
“I really like Boone,” Mikey said. “He’s cool.”
“Yeah. He is. I like him too.” An understatement, but the most she was going to say to her twelve-year-old, who blessedly hadn’t noticed any of the subtext happening all night.
Unfortunately, Wendy felt steeped in subtext.
And in the aching window into another life tonight had given her.
What would it be like if she stopped worrying about what she thought was smart, or right—in the context of what other people would say—and just went for what she wanted?
If she closed her eyes and thought of her perfect life, Boone was in it.
So why was she fighting that so hard?
To try and protect herself.
But that ship had sailed, along with her inhibitions, right about the time she’d first kissed him.
The only real question was if she was going to keep on letting her childhood, the pain in her past, Daniel, the pain of his betrayal and the years’ worth of lies decide what she got to have.
Yes, it was fast. But it also wasn’t.
Boone had been there all along, and so had her feelings for him.
She had kept them in the most appropriate place possible. She had been a good wife. She’d honored her vows.
But the feelings had been there all the same. Daniel had been a great reason not to act on them then. He didn’t get to be her reason anymore.
She was her reason.
And because of how she loved she could trust everything to flow from there.
Because she loved her girls, and their happiness would feed hers. She could trust herself.
To make the best decisions she was capable of making—not perfect ones, but not wholly selfish ones either.
She just had to hope that in the end, Boone wanted the same things she did.
But if not...
She was strong. And she had a lot of things to live for, and smile for.
She knew how to hold happiness and sadness in her hands at the same time.
So, if she had to, she’d just hold it all, and keep living.