Chapter 9
Jade’s been gone for a few days now, and things are going surprisingly well. I was uneasy about how it would be without her here, especially since Boone has been pretty busy since coming home from the circuit. We haven’t seen each other much, so I wasn’t sure how he felt about me staying here. Jade assured me he was fine with it, but I don’t put it past my sister just to tell me that to calm my nerves. Boone has always struck me as a private type of guy. He’s not closed off, by any means, but he tends to keep to himself, and his evenings after Suzy goes to bed are mostly spent in his room, which I can understand.
Living with someone isn’t easy, especially if you’re big into your own time.
I’m in the middle of cooking dinner when my phone buzzes with a message. Suzy is sitting at the counter on a bar stool behind me as she colors. I’ve noticed she really enjoys doing this, and it’ll keep her entertained for hours—okay, maybe not hours, but you get the point. Grabbing my phone, a text from Boone flashes on the screen. He was supposed to be home today but ended up having to run up to the Grazing Acres Ranch because the bulls got out and he had to go help round them up. The guys all ended up going up there to help herd them back to the ranch, so I offered to stay with Suzy.
It’s not like I’d be any good at wrangling a herd of bulls anyway. Although—and I’d never admit this out loud—I would kill for a chance to watch all of them do just that. A handful of ridiculously hot—and probably sweaty—cowboys riding horses, probably slinging lassos, as they bring a bunch of bulls back home. Yes, please.
That mental picture reminds me of the time a few years back when I came home for summer break after my freshmen year at college and had to stay with my sister and Boone because my parents were remodeling their house. I got roped into helping Boone build the shed they have out back.
With the sun beating down, the heat blazing, it was the first time I ever admitted to myself how attractive I found my brother-in-law. Of course, deep down, I’d noticed this about him long before that day, but I always denied it. He’s tall, rippled with strong, bulging muscle—the type that comes from years and years of riding bulls—and he was shirtless and covered in sweat. A sinful pair of well-worn Wranglers sat low on his hips that made averting my gaze impossible, a maroon and black tool belt wrapped around on top of them, with his discarded t-shirt tucked into his back pocket and a cowboy hat shielding his eyes from the sun as he carried slats of wood from the back of his truck to the area where the shed was being built.
He was—and still is—a gay man’s wet dream, and I’m sure he doesn’t even realize it. His large, hardworking hands. Corded veins covering his forearms. The sweat droplets that glistened under the sun that streaked down his chest. Even the way I got an eyeful of the thick, black hair under his arms when he had them above his head as he carried the wood.
That shouldn’t have been a turn on.
His armpit hair had no business being that sexy.
I vividly remember wanting to drag the flat of my tongue from the bottom of his navel all the way up to his tempting Adam’s apple just to taste his sweat and feel his slick, hot skin beneath me. Hell, even now, years later, the visual is enough to stir something low in my gut. Boone Stanton, while he is my brother-in-law, is one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen. It’s unfair, honestly.
Shaking my head and forcing my mind out of the gutter, I open the text he sent.
Boone: That took a lot longer than I thought it would. I should be on my way home soon. Sorry. Do you think you could start dinner for Suzy?
Me: Already ahead of you.
Snapping a picture of the stove, I attach it to the message, hitting send.
Boone: Damn, that looks good. What is it?
Me: It’s just a bow tie skillet lasagna. Nothing special. I got some garlic bread in the oven too and I fixed a salad in the fridge.
Boone: Okay, Gordon Ramsey. I’m on my way.
Sniggering, I lock my phone and set it on the counter as I get back to cooking. Admittedly, it does smell fucking incredible. I taught myself how to cook in college because I was tired of living on Top Ramen and take-out. Surprisingly, I enjoy it a lot more than I thought I would.
The food is almost done when Suzy comes to stand beside me, setting a ripped-out piece of paper on the counter by the stove. “Uncle Grady, look what I made!”
“That’s so pretty, Suzy Q. You did such a good job. Is that me?”
“Mmhmm.” She points to the figure I think is me. “That’s you, and I’m right beside you. Daddy’s next to me. Oh, and there’s Mabel. And then Mommy.”
“You’re a little artist who’s going places, sweet girl. I just know it.”
Suzy preens under the compliment, her cheeks a little rosy. “You can keep this,” she says.
“Thank you. I’ll hang it up on the bulletin board in my room. How’s that sound?”
She nods.
“Can you set the table for me?” I ask her, reaching into the cabinet to grab three plates. “Put these on the table in front of the chairs. One for you, one for me, and one for your daddy. Then, when you’re done with that, let me know, and I can give you the next step.”
A smile grows on her face as she nods and takes the plates from me. Turning the burner on simmer, I place the lid on the skillet, and walk over to the fridge to pull out the salad and parmesan cheese, setting them both on the counter behind me. The timer goes off, letting me know the bread is done, so I pull that out, setting it on the side of the stove I’m not currently using.
“Okay, I’m all done with the plates,” Suzy says softly.
“Good job, sweetie. Can you next grab three napkins off the counter over there and set them beside the plates, and then give each of us a fork out of the drawer?”
“I can do that!”
She gets so excited when she’s able to help. When she gets to feel like a “big girl” and help with dinner or put the clothes away. It’s so cute.
As she’s doing that, I stir the pasta one more time, noting that it’s done. And it’s perfect timing, too, because just as I turn the stovetop off, Suzy shouts, “Daddy!”
Turning around, my eyes find him leaning with his shoulder against the doorway, a wide, bright grin tugging on his full lips as Suzy runs across the kitchen over to him. He’s wearing a dark brown cowboy hat that looks well worn, and he’s dressed in a plain white t-shirt that molds to his arms and chest in a sinful manner, a light pair of straight leg Wranglers, with a pair of dark brown boots. Dirt—or something similar—coats his tan, corded arms and his shirt, and his cheeks are flushed, probably from all the hard work he did outside today. He squats down, opening his arms as her little body collides with him, and he looks so fucking hot, I have to turn away and busy myself with stirring the pasta to avoid risking getting caught checking him out. That wouldn’t be good.
Yes, he and my sister are getting a divorce, but he’s still very much off limits to me. I don’t think that’d fly over well with Jade. “Hey, thanks for letting me crash here while I was figuring my life out. Oh, by the way! Stole your ex-husband.” Not that I’m even his type or on his radar at all. He’s known me since I was a young teenager; he probably looks at me like I’m a child. He’s way out of my league, even if he wasn’t off limits.
Boone crosses the room, his boots sounding on the linoleum. “Smells delicious,” he mutters, his voice deep and gruff, sending a shiver down my spine that I work very hard to hide.
Glancing over my shoulder, I offer him a small smile. “Thanks. You’re right on time. It’s done.”
He hums in appreciation, and it has no right sounding as seductive as it does. Jesus Christ, I need to get my libido under control, and fast. At this rate, I’m going to pop a fucking boner at the dinner table.
Grabbing two of the plates off the table, he dishes Suzy up, then himself, and once he’s done, I get mine too. I grab a Coke out of the fridge, but before I shut it, I ask, “Want anything from in here?”
“Can you grab me a Bud Light?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Dinner passes easily enough. Suzy asks Boone a ton of questions about his day and the bulls he helped get back to the ranch, and he asks her about her day in return. It’s cute watching them interact. Yes, they’re doing very normal father-daughter things, but the pure love and adoration Suzy looks at Boone with is sweet. In the way I’ve heard her talk about him before, it’s clear she’s very proud of him.
After we finish eating, Boone tells me he’ll take care of the dishes, so I head down the hall to my room and try to make myself scarce, giving the two of them space to spend time together without me hovering. One of my biggest worries about staying here is that I’ll be in the way. Eventually, I hear them both head upstairs, where he’s probably giving her a bath and getting her ready for bed.
Busying myself with work, I go through all the pictures I took at the arena this week. They’re gearing up and getting ready for the annual Grand Prix, so I’ve been watching all the equestrians practice while snapping pictures and videos that the social media team can tease to their platforms. Boone’s also been busy. They have a fundraiser they’re all preparing for, so I’ve been bringing Suzy along with me and she seems to be enjoying herself. She loves watching the riders and the horses, and she’s good about being quiet when I’m trying to work. They asked me to shoot the Grand Prix event, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s still not a permanent job, but I think I’m getting closer. Hannah seems to really enjoy my work, and we get along nicely.
I lose myself to editing, and before I know it, the sun has disappeared, and it’s later than I thought. After I shut my laptop down, I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, and climb into bed.
Where I lie and stare up at the ceiling…for hours.
Seriously, where the hell is the sandman when you need him?
Annoyed, I grab my Kindle off the nightstand and exit my room. I’ve become very fond of sitting on the back porch at night when I can’t sleep, choosing to read instead. It’s relaxing. I bring my comforter, wrapping it around myself because the October chill can be a bit much. I love the midnight sky here. Nothing beats a small-town view of the sky. Since I was little, I’ve enjoyed sitting outside at night, staring up at the stars and the moon. I remember many nights, sneaking out onto the roof at my parents’ house, reading until all hours of the night. It’s something I missed when I was at college. BPU is located in such a crowded city that the stars are practically nonexistent out there.
It”s nice being back in Copper Lake, if only for this reason. But if I’m being honest with myself, it’s for a lot more reasons than just that. When I was in high school, I went through a phase I’m sure every kid from a small town goes through. The growing pains. The urge to leave. Experience other places and start over. The idea of growing old here freaked me out. I wanted more. And then when I graduated and went to college, when I finally left this small town I thought I hated, I realized how much I missed it. I missed the feel of it. The unhurried pace. I missed the lack of traffic and chaos. Getting out isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
“What are you doing out here?”
I startle at the sound of Boone’s sleepy voice, my head snapping in the direction it’s coming from. He’s dressed in a pair of low-slung plaid pajama pants…and nothing else. His chest is bare. His arms are bare. Even his feet are bare. And his hair is tousled, probably from sleep, but it definitely looks like it’s from something else entirely. Something dirtier. Something that has heat pooling near the base of my spine and my mouth watering. Even one side of his mustache is smooshed up, like he was just sleeping on that side of his face. It shouldn’t be cute, but it is.
“Shit, you scared me,” I breathe out, readjusting myself so my body is turned slightly more toward him as he takes a seat next to me. “We seem to always be doing that to each other,” I add with a breathy chuckle.
“Sorry, Suzy had a nightmare, and I haven’t been able to fall back to sleep since she woke up.”
“Is she sleeping again?”
He nods. “She doesn’t have nightmares often, but when she does, she falls back asleep easily. But once I’m up, it’s impossible to go to sleep again. It’s frustrating.”
“I’m sorry. I’m the same way, except getting to sleep initially is the problem for me.”
Boone nods, and we fall into silence for a moment before he asks, “So, how’d your parents take the news of you dropping out?”
“Oh, fantastic,” I reply sarcastically. Boone laughs because he knows my parents better than that. “Nah, I haven’t told them yet. I’m a chickenshit, but I plan to soon. I know they’re going to be so disappointed, though.”
He huffs out another laugh. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of surprised you even agreed to go to BPU at all.”
Glancing over at him, my brows pinch. “Really? Why?”
“You’ve just never struck me as the corporate office, business type. You’ve had a camera in your hand for as long as I’ve known you. I figured you’d go that route.”
Hearing Boone say that feels validating in a way I didn’t even realize I needed, like somebody other than me can see the passion I have for this.
Nodding, I admit, “I wanted to, and still do. I guess I just…I don’t know. Wanted their approval? Wanted to make them proud, I guess. And I felt the only way to do that was to follow their plan.”
Boone’s watching me intently—in a way that makes me want to squirm. “What changed?”
I shrug, feeling emotionally exposed. “I don’t know. The idea of doing something I didn’t love—or even like—made me want to scream. Couldn’t do it anymore.”
“That makes sense,” Boone mutters, his heavy gaze still on me. “I can respect that. I wouldn’t want to do something I didn’t like either, or not be able to do the thing I love.”
“Did you ever get shit for wanting to ride bulls?”
“Oh, all the fucking time.” He huffs out a laugh.
“Really?”
Nodding, he says, “Oh, yeah. Not so much anymore, but in the beginning, for sure. My dad was always on board because he grew up in this world too, but my mom and my grandparents wanted something different for me. There’re so many variables that go into bull riding that can make or break your career, not to mention it’s dangerous as all hell.”
Yeah, that’s why it’s hot as hell, I think, but don’t dare speak out loud. Instead, I ask, “When did it stop? Like, when did they accept that this was your path?”
“I don’t think my grandparents will ever fully come around, but they at least don’t say anything to me about it. Not since I went pro. Same with my mom. I know she’s worried I’ll get hurt and be forced to retire that way, but she keeps that to herself, and instead, tells me how proud she is of me.”
It’s a fist to the gut hearing that because I know I’ll probably never get to hear my mom tell me she’s proud of me. “My parents won’t ever come around.”
“Respectfully, screw them, then.” My head snaps up, gaze meeting his, taken aback. Boone chuckles. “I’m sorry, that’s not very nice of me to say, but I stand by it. If they can’t be proud of you for chasing after your dreams, and if they can’t get on board with that, then that’s on them. Not you. You shouldn’t live your life to please anybody but yourself.”
“Thanks,” I mumble awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. I can’t deny how good it feels to have somebody else on my side, though.
“And for what it’s worth,” he continues. “You’ve got a gift behind the camera. You should pursue that.”
I look away, covering the bottom half of my face with the blanket to hide the grin tugging on my lips. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in I don’t even know how long. When I turn my head toward him again, I find him still watching me. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that sends heat down my spine. It’s like Boone is really seeing me right now, and I can’t decide if I hate it or love it.
I’m probably imagining it.
Boone stands up, stretching his arms over his head, and as much as I try to avoid looking, I can’t help it. His back muscles bunch and twist, and they look so tempting under the moonlit glow.
“Well, I’m gonna try to head back to bed,” he announces. “You should too.”
And then he goes back inside, leaving me out here, replaying the entire conversation like a damn schoolboy with a crush.
Fuck me.