CHAPTER THREE
Luna flipped on her blinker and turned into the Turnbuckle’s parking lot.
She cruised around the lot until she found an empty spot next to Calliope’s big truck, pulled into it, and shut off her car.
She reached over to the passenger seat, grabbed her small crossbody carry bag, and set it in her lap.
She dug out her lip gloss, flipped down the visor to apply a thin layer, and checked her hair in the mirror.
“What am I doing?” She quickly slapped the visor back up and shoved her gloss back into her bag.
During the past several years, she’d gotten really adept at playing down her looks in an effort to keep from drawing attention to herself.
You can’t become a target if you don’t stand out. A strange mantra for someone who was only twenty-four years old. Though sometimes she felt much older.
She wore minimal makeup, if any at all. Her hair was usually up in either a ponytail or some kind of sloppy bun, and she rarely wore anything other than sneakers, jeans, and generic polos or T-shirts.
As far back as she could remember, people would tell her parents how cute or beautiful both of their daughters were. How they could be models. Ugh. It wasn’t like she or Dawn had any control over the way they looked, so it had always felt super weird.
They’d just gotten lucky in the genetic lottery.
Dawn’s striking Mediterranean looks came from their handsome dad’s Greek side of the family, and Luna got her delicate looks and fair, peaches-and-cream complexion from their attractive mother’s English-Irish side of the family.
“What am I doing here?” Her head dropped back against the headrest, and she closed her eyes.
Being around Boone in a social setting could be a colossal mistake. Because the more she was around him, the more she liked him. And she didn’t trust herself enough to like any man.
The last time she’d done that—it had proven to be fatal.
Knock, knock, knock. Someone rapped quietly on her window.
“ACK!” Her eyes shot open, and her hand flew to her bag.
She turned to find the current, albeit gorgeous, bane of her existence—and emotional sanity—leaning down and looking at her through her driver’s side window.
“Are you okay?” Boone’s brows were crowded together, and he sounded genuinely concerned. “You’ve been sitting here for a few minutes.”
Had she actually been stupid enough to doze off? She knew better than to let her guard down like that. She should’ve gone home and gone to bed instead of agreeing to go out to dinner.
You know you wanted to see him one last time today.
“I’m … I’m fine.” She patted her bag. “And you’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”
Then he did the rudest thing—he smiled and laughed.
“Shoot me, huh?” His gaze dropped to her bag. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re carrying.”
“Duh.” Real mature, Luna.
“Are you coming in, or are you going to chicken out?” He watched her so intently she could almost feel his gaze on her skin.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Cursed man seemed to love challenging her.
“Why would I chicken out?” She looped her bag over her head so it nestled against her chest and flung the door open. He took a step backward to avoid being hit.
“Oops. Sorry.” Not really. “Why would I chicken out? I’m just here to hang out with my friends.”
She turned to swing the door shut and felt him move up behind her. Not so close that she felt trapped against the car but close enough to feel the heat radiating from his large body.
“Am I your friend, Luna?” His warm breath swept across the top of her head.
Something about the huskiness in his voice brushed across her skin like a physical stroke, and her stomach fluttered in a strange and not-so-awful way. No man’s voice had ever affected her in that way before.
She spun around, fulling intending to tear into him, to tell him to back the heck up and give her some space.
But then her breasts brushed against his chest, and every sharp word, every forceful glare she might’ve mustered disappeared into the ether, and all she could do was stare up at him with her mouth hanging open.
What sort of wizardry did this man possess that he could make her instantly forget her desperate need to keep him at arm’s length?
“Come on, I’m hungry.” He took her hand, led her across the parking lot, and opened the front door for her.
They were hit with the sounds of people laughing, silverware clinking against plates, and seventies rock blaring from the jukebox.
Calliope was standing on a chair in the back right corner, waving her arms. Her eyes dropped to their joined hands, and a big smile broke across her face.
Luna snatched her hand from his and headed toward their friends. No sense giving them the wrong idea.
“We saved you guys a couple of seats.” Lucas lifted his fiancée down from the chair and plopped her onto the seat next to him.
“He’s so sexy when he’s being all manly,” Calliope teased and kissed his cheek.
“You’re a menace to society, you know that?” He kissed the side of her neck.
“Maybe.” She tilted her head to one side, giving him better access. “But I’m your menace to society.”
“Damn right, you are.” He gave her a kiss and settled onto his own chair.
They made no effort to hide their feelings. Luna envied their complete, one hundred percent trust in each other. Personally and professionally.
She trusted her work friends and her family with her life. The list of people she trusted with her feelings was much shorter. Her therapist assured her that was completely normal, all things considered. She also said there comes a point in life where you just have to take a leap of faith.
Boone pulled out a chair for her.
“Thanks.” She noticed he’d tucked her between him and Eddie—where she would be safe.
“You bet.” He sat down, grabbed a couple of menus from the stack on the table, and handed one to her. “I’m starving.” He scanned the menu. “What’s your favorite thing to order here?”
“I like the Flying Elbow Drop Caesar salad with grilled chicken.” A ridiculous name for a salad, but it was perfectly suited to the wrestling-themed tavern. “Sometimes I like to mix it up by having salmon instead of chicken.”
The owner was a retired professional wrestler who’d competed against some of the biggest names in the business: Hulk Hogan, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, the Undertaker, The Rock, and a bunch of other guys. He was about the size of a bear and quite the character.
“I’m thinking of going with the Championship Belt Burger.” Boone closed his menu and set it down. “Fully loaded, of course.”
“Of course.” Luna laughed and actually felt herself relaxing.
From everything she’d witnessed, Boone really was a nice guy, and he’d clicked with the rest of the group almost immediately. Not an easy thing to do with a bunch of alpha-type high achievers. But he was confident and highly skilled himself, as well as laid-back and extremely likable.
It was the extremely likable part she was having a difficult time resisting.
Then why are you?
“Relax, Luna.” Boone leaned close and lowered his voice for her ears only. “I don’t want anything from you but friendship.”
Just friendship. Great. Good. That should make her feel more comfortable, yet she was oddly disappointed.
She started to explain, “It’s just that … well, I—”
“You guys ready to order?” The server stood across from them and was setting glasses of water in front of each person at their table. “Or do you need some time?” She slipped an electronic tablet from her apron pocket.
She may have directed the question to both of them, but her attention was firmly on Boone.
“I’d like the Flying Elbow Drop Caesar with grilled chicken, please.” Luna flipped the menu shut and handed it to her.
And still, the server never looked at her—she was radar-locked on the man next to her. Not that Luna could blame her—he was a feast for the eyes.
“And what can I get for you?” Her eyes traveled over Boone, and her smile was less of a smile and more of an invitation to jump her bones.
“I’ll have the Championship Belt Burger, loaded, with sweet potato fries.” Boone was oblivious or chose to ignore her flirtation. He handed her the menu, then he lifted his arm and laid it over the back of Luna’s chair.
The server followed the motion and must’ve taken it as some sort of sign, so she moved on to Eddie and started her seduction scene all over again.
Floozy.
“What are you doing?” Luna glanced at his arm, then scowled up at him.
“Nothin’, just stretchin’ my arm. I can move it, if it bothers you?” He started to lift his arm.
“It’s fine. Whatever.” Luna unwrapped her straw, stabbed it into her water with a bit more force than necessary, and took a long swallow.
He left his arm on her chair and, for some reason, she kinda liked it there.
“So, tell me about yourself.” Boone lifted his glass, placed it to his perfect lips, and drank half the glass in one long swallow.
Watching his Adam’s apple glide up and down was mesmerizing. She’d never thought of a man’s neck as sexy before, but his sure was.
“What do you want to know?” She set her glass down on the cardboard coaster bearing the pub’s logo—a wrestling ring with beer mugs knocking together in the center.
She took a deep breath and mentally prepared a response for whatever personal question he might ask.
“How did you come up with the idea for the bio-patch?” He set his glass on a coaster next to hers.
“The … the bio-patch?” That was what he wanted to ask her?
“What?” One corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Did you think I was going to ask you why you’re trying so hard not to like me?”
“I haven’t been—”
His brows shot up, and he gave her a kind of look daring her to finish that statement.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” She couldn’t lie to him. “It’s not just you, though.” Luna kept her voice low. “I … I have a difficult time with new people in general.”
Her goal was to blend in, keep her head down, and do good work. That was all.
A far cry from the needy child who’d craved acceptance and attention from everyone and anyone. Most especially, the mother and father who were so into each other, they’d forgotten they had two daughters who needed them.
Thank goodness, she’d had Dawn to watch over her. Unfortunately, it took almost losing her sister to finally appreciate her.
“Feel like sharing?” Boone shifted in his seat so he was facing her more directly. Giving her his full attention. “I’m a pretty good listener.”
Was she ready to share her ugliest, most embarrassing secret with him?
He didn’t rush her—he sat perfectly still, patiently waiting.
The fact that Calliope and Lucas trusted Boone enough to recommend him to Cole said a lot about him. Caleb and Dawn seemed to like him, too, which was a huge endorsement, as far as Luna was concerned.
Maybe he was her leap of faith.
“When I was seventeen, I did something impulsive and selfish, and Mason almost died because of it.” She picked up her glass and took a drink.
A slight shift of his shoulders was his only reaction.
“It’s too much to go into here. Suffice to say, I learned a valuable and painful lesson about trusting the wrong people.” A lesson that still burned like acid whenever the nightmare returned to haunt her sleep.
“Are you talking about Mason Croft?” Boone finally spoke. “Emily O’Halleran’s fiancé?”
“Yeah.” Luna nodded. “Look, I really don’t want to drag this all out here. Would you mind if we talk about it another time?”
“Baby steps, right?” He smoothed his hand down her ponytail, and she didn’t mind one bit.
“Right.” She smiled, and their gaze connected.
How was it that this man—a guy she’d known less than six months—seemed to get her so easily?
His head tilted to one side, and his eyes traveled over her face, taking in all of her features.
Sounds from the bar faded to nothing in the background as some kind of oddly deep, meaningful connection was made between them.
It felt like they were the only two people on the planet and something—some kind of unspoken understanding—passed between them.
“Ahem.” Eddie’s voice cut through her fanciful imaginings. “You guys gonna eat or just stare at each other all night?”
“Shut up, Eddie,” Boone tossed the words out without taking his attention from her face.
Luna dragged her gaze from his and saw the server standing there, holding their food.
“Sorry,” Luna said.
“I’d stare at him, too.” She winked, set their food in front of them, and left the table.
Boone leaned sideways and placed his mouth close to her ear. “We’ll pick this conversation up later.”
An hour ago, the idea of that would’ve had her edgy with dread. Now, for whatever reason, she almost looked forward to sharing her secret with him. Only time would tell if she chickened out or not.