Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Mila leaned back against Boone’s chest, spooned between his legs, the two of them still naked.
They were sitting on the plush rug in front of the fire, Boone propped with the couch at his back.
He’d wrapped a fleece blanket around them, but they were generating enough body heat that it wasn’t needed.
After the hottest, most incredible sex in the history of the act, Boone had cleaned them with a warm washcloth—sigh—then grabbed a second bottle of wine, refilling both their glasses.
They’d polished off the first bottle right after dinner, and since they were housebound and definitely not working tomorrow, Boone suggested they open another as they cuddled by the fire.
Mila had agreed, though she was buzzed enough from the sex that the wine wasn’t necessary. She took a small sip, snuggling closer, resisting the urge to pinch herself.
There was no way this was really happening. After two plus months of longing for Boone without hope of anything more than friendship at best, she couldn’t believe how quickly it had changed.
Tonight was the single most romantic moment of her life, and she’d agreed to the wine because she didn’t want it to end.
She wasn’t sure what corner he had turned, but something had clearly happened that made Boone willing to give in to their shared attraction.
He hadn’t indicated that this was more than sex, and she sure as shit wasn’t bursting the bubble of bliss she was floating in to ask what he thought this was.
That was a conversation for tomorrow. Or…if it looked like they were going to be snowed in another night, the next day. She didn’t want to say anything that might make him stop.
Because she did not want to stop.
Not after…
God.
She’d had two mind-blowing orgasms that had been miles better than the ones she gave herself. Those typically got the job done, but barely. Her cheeks grew warm as she recalled the way he’d knelt between her legs, going down on her like it was his job.
She took another drink of wine, glancing over at the bottle. It was nearly empty.
“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me?” she joked.
“Just had my wicked way with you, and I didn’t even have to get you drunk, darlin’.”
She giggled, thrilled by the way he called her darlin’. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel drunk, and she was at least two glasses over her usual wine intake. Of course, she wasn’t sure the first bottle they consumed counted anymore, given they had more than worked that off.
Along with opening the second bottle of wine, Boone had put on some music, playing a list he’d put together of favorite songs on Spotify. It was an eclectic playlist, and she was surprised to discover how similar their music tastes were.
When an old John Prine and Iris Dement duet started to play, she grinned. “In Spite of Ourselves” was a favorite, the funny lyrics never failing to make her laugh. When she started to sing the female part, Boone looked surprised.
“You know this song?”
She nodded. “I love it.”
“Don’t know many people who’ve heard it. How on earth did you?”
“My granddaddy was the world’s biggest John Prine fan.
Listened to him all the time. He loved a lot of folk singers.
I swear one of the highlights of his life was seeing Peter, Paul and Mary perform at Wolf Trap.
Once, when we were younger, Grandma and Granddaddy took us all—and I do mean all—to the National Zoo in D.C.
Grandma played ‘Goin’ to the Zoo’ the entire way there. ”
“I’m assuming ‘all’ means not just you and your sisters, but your cousins too?”
She nodded.
“How the hell did they get all of you there?” Boone asked, aghast.
Mila laughed, because she understood his shock. For one thing, it was rare—as in never—that they all left the farm at the same time, and while the zoo was only an hour away, loading them in vehicles was no small feat.
“Uncle Rex drove a nine-passenger van at the time, and Granddaddy bought a used minivan after inheriting four girls. The zoo had been Remi’s only request for her birthday, and since it was the first birthday after Mom and Dad’s deaths, Grandma went all out.
She insisted we were all going, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer from anyone.
Granddaddy and Uncle Rex relented because Aunt Claire was on Grandma’s side, so they knew they’d never win the argument. ”
Boone chuckled. “Powerful women in your family. I see where you get it from.”
Mila stumbled for a moment, almost forgetting to finish her story because no one had ever called her powerful. Just sweet—blech.
She preferred powerful. Made her feel like a badass.
Boone chuckled. “I’m trying to picture fifteen of you rolling up to the zoo in those two vans.”
“Oh, it was a show. Levi, Sam, and Theo grumbled about being forced to go, claiming they were too old.”
“Well, to be fair, they probably were. Levi would have been what? Twenty? Twenty-one?”
“He was twenty at the time, Sam nineteen, and Theo seventeen. The three of them kicked up a fuss, claiming they were grown men, not kids. For two weeks before the excursion, they did nothing but bitch about it, but guess who had the most fun at the zoo?”
Boone laughed. “Loved it, did they?”
“Oh my God. They were hilarious, creating ridiculous backstories for the animals. Theo created an entire soap opera for us in Gibbon Ridge. So many scandalous affairs, and you wouldn’t believe how many thieves, blackmailers, and backstabbing gibbons they had at that zoo,” she joked.
“Mom and Dad had been gone six months, and laughter was pretty scarce. That trip brought it back. It was probably one of the best days of my life.”
She didn’t mention it had fallen down a slot on the list after tonight skyrocketed to the top.
Boone placed a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. “Sounds like a great day. Your grandma was smart to insist you go, and I’m glad the guys embraced it in the end. I swear that Theo is a born storyteller.”
“Yeah, he is,” she agreed.
“Speaking of storytellers,” Boone started. “I heard you went out with the minister again.”
Mila smirked. “Maverick has a big mouth.”
They both laughed.
“How do you know it wasn’t Grayson who told me?” he asked, even though she knew it was meant as a joke.
“Because Grayson keeps to himself. He’s a grumpy ‘you do you and I’ll do me’ kind of guy. It’s what I love best about him.”
Boone nodded. “That’s a good description. So…how was your date?”
Mila didn’t even have to pretend it was jealousy she heard in his voice. It totally was. “It was okay. Pastor Joshua’s a nice guy.”
“You still calling him Pastor Joshua?” Boone asked.
Mila snorted. “I can’t seem to stop.”
“Are you a religious person, Mila?”
She shrugged. “I consider myself more spiritual than religious. Aunt Claire and Uncle Rex go to church on Sundays when they don’t have guests checking out of the B&B, but I’m one of those C and E people.”
“C and E?”
“Christmas and Easter.”
Boone chuckled. “Not sure a pastor’s wife could get away with that.”
Her eyes widened. “Good God. I’m not marrying Pastor Joshua. In fact, I broke things off with him. Told him it wasn’t working out.”
“I’m glad. He wasn’t good enough for you.”
Mila drank in his dark tone laced with jealousy. She’d never made anyone jealous. Ever. It felt amazing.
“He’s a good man,” she said, because Pastor Joshua was perfectly kind. He just wasn’t her type.
“That’s not what I meant.” Boone stared at her—and the light went on.
“Oh. Yeah. Well, you’re right about that. He was still asking if he could kiss me good night after four dates.” She rolled her eyes. “It was kind of exhausting.”
Boone chuckled. “You don’t like to be asked?”
“Every single time?”
“Fair point,” he said, agreeing. Then he gave her a shit-eating grin as he cupped her cheek, planting one hell of an unrequested kiss on her lips.
She hummed as they parted. “I love your kisses,” she said, the wine loosening her lips. “So much better than…”
“The pastor?” Boone asked, amused. “Not good kisses?”
Mila grimaced. “They were just like him. Nice and pleasant enough, but they sure didn’t set the world on fire.”
Boone brushed her hair over her shoulder, tickling the side of her neck with his nose. “You realize you have a tone when you say nice. Makes it sound like the word’s made of manure.”
Mila tilted her head, giving him better access because there was a spot behind her ear that she’d just discovered was a huge erogenous zone for her, and Boone had homed in on it.
“I don’t mean to do that,” she said, struggling to follow the conversation when he playfully nipped her earlobe.
“I’ve tried to come to terms with the fact that I only seem to attract that specific type of guy. ”
She cursed herself for still talking when Boone lifted his head. “The nice, boring guys?”
She nodded, then quickly said, “Present company excluded, of course.”
Boone grinned. “I’m not nice?”
Mila twisted until she sat facing him. “You’re very nice,” she said, dragging one finger down the center of his chest. Maybe she had drunk too much wine, because she couldn’t believe how comfortable she was, sitting here completely naked with him. “But not a bit boring.”
“Good to know.” Boone was teasing her.
“Jesus, can you imagine if I’d gone to bed with Pastor Joshua? No doubt he would have asked for permission before removing every piece of clothing.”
Boone smirked. “You sure that’s not your cup of tea?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know it’s not.”
He reached out and pinched her nipple. “So why do you think you only attract a certain type of man?”
“Because I’ve been pigeon-holed in a box for most of my adult life, one I can’t seem to break free from.”
“What box is that?”
“The sweet one,” she said, with the same disdain she used for the word nice.
“There’s nothing wrong with being sweet, Mila. I think that’s one of your best attributes.”
Boone chuckled when she screwed up her face in disgust.