7. Caroline
Chapter Seven
CAROLINE
Back at the house, I try to keep myself busy. To distract from the possibilities buzzing around in my head.
Boone is going to be out of the house for the rest of the day. This is my time to figure out how I feel. To figure out what I should do.
Heading into the kitchen, I grab full rolls of fabric and felt and haul them into the living room. I need to keep my hands busy.
When I'm working on a project, it helps my mind slow down. Recharge. And as I begin to sew and my mind finally calms, I can finally think.
Spending time with Boone today reminded me all over again why I love arts and crafts so much. It's for the joy—the fun. And for the past seven years, at least when my daughter isn't around, those are two things that I've been sorely missing.
But Boone is able to bring them back. The time we spent in that class together was the most fun I've had with another adult in such a long time.
I spend the next few hours adding to the living room's decor.
Wrapping two branches of fake pine together, I form a little circular nest. As I set this on the side table beside the couch, I think about what to put in it. What kind of sweet little creatures would settle in a Christmasy nest like this?
Eventually, I decide to fashion a tiny toy bird and an even smaller baby bird to go with it. But in that big nest all by themselves, it just seems so lonely. Incomplete.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, I make another bird. A bigger one. As I set him next to the mother bird. They just look so perfect together it makes my heart sing.
The two lovebirds and their little baby. A complete family.
Briefly, I feel my heart ache inside me. But whatever I'm feeling is forgotten the moment I hear the front door open. Boone is back home.
Shoot. How late is it?
I glance at the window, realizing it's already dark outside. Whipping my head around, I look at the old clock on the mantle. It's almost dinner time. And I haven't started cooking yet.
Leaping onto my feet, I sprint across the house and into the kitchen.
"Sorry, Boone," I call to him in the front hallway, where I can hear him still rattling his keys. "Dinner's not quite ready yet."
Opening the fridge, I wince at the empty spaces on the shelves. I was so distracted by what happened with Boone this morning that I forgot to do grocery shopping.
I pause my train of thought as Boone enters the kitchen behind me, a large paper bag clutched in his arms and a grin on his chiseled face.
"Don't worry about it, baby," he says. "Dinner's on me."
Boone reaches into the bag and pulls out a feast. Colorful veggies, savory meat, and a selection of sauces fill the countertop. He even bought miniature cupcakes. But the final surprise catches my eye - a glittering bottle of champagne.
"Well, this is fancy," I tease, picking up the bottle to read the label. "What are we drinking to?"
Boone's grin grows wider, flirtatious.
"To you. Who else?" he purrs. "Now sit back and relax. I'll take care of everything."
Standing in the kitchen, I watch as Boone moves about with an ease and familiarity that is both endearing and impressive. He's cooking, his tall figure hunched over the stove as he stirs something in a pot. The aroma of garlic and tomatoes fills the air, making my mouth water.
I lean against the countertop. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"
He glances over his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "My grandma. She said a man who can cook is a man who will never go hungry."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Well, she was right. This smells incredible."
He turns around, holding out a spoonful of the sauce. "Want a taste?"
I step forward, wrapping my lips around the spoon. The flavors explode in my mouth, a perfect blend of tangy and sweet. "Wow, this is amazing. What are you making?"
His smile widens, pleased with the compliment. "It's a family recipe. Spaghetti Bolognese. Grandma used to make it for special occasions."
The thought of sharing a family tradition with Boone makes me feel warm inside. It's such an intimate gesture, and I appreciate it more than I can express.
With dinner almost ready, I decide to make myself useful. "Let me set the table."
As I lay out the plates and silverware, Boone finishes up with the cooking. The sight of him in the kitchen, the domesticity of it all, sends a warm feeling through me. It's nice, this simple act of making dinner together.
Once everything's ready, we sit down to eat, the delicious meal spread out before us. As we talk and laugh, enjoying each other's company, I can't help but reflect on how pleasant this all is.
Having Boone around, sharing these moments together, it's more than I could have ever asked for. There's a sense of comfort, of home, that I didn't realize I was missing until now.
And in this moment, I know I wouldn't trade it for anything else.
After dinner, Boone and I retreat to the coziness of the living room. The Christmas tree is a towering spectacle in the corner, its lights twinkling like stars against the evening sky.
I turn them on, and the room transforms into a magical Christmas wonderland.
We sink into the soft cushions of the couch, our bodies fitting together as though made to be side by side. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional crackle from the fire dancing in the fireplace. My mind wanders, and a twinge of sadness tugs at my heartstrings.
This is the first Christmas without Lucy.
Boone notices my change in mood, his fingers gently sifting through my hair.
"What are you thinking about, baby?" he murmurs.
"Lucy," I admit, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought I was ready for this, but it's so hard."
He nods, squeezing me a little tighter. "Have you talked to her today?"
A smile lifts the corners of my mouth. "Yes, I called her earlier. She's having a blast with her cousins."
"That's great," he murmurs, pressing a comforting kiss to my forehead. "I'm glad she's having fun."
I rest my head against his shoulder and look up at him. "But enough about me. What are you thinking about?"
Boone looks down at me, and his gaze softens.
"I was thinking that this is the best Christmas I've ever had."
"Really?" I ask him.
"Really."
His words send a rush of warmth through me. It's as if a soft blanket has been draped over my heart, providing a comfort that is both familiar and exhilarating. I feel cherished, valued. I feel…
"I love you so much, Caroline," Boone says, his voice filled with raw emotion, echoing the sincerity in his eyes.
But instead of responding in kind, I find myself asking, "But why? I'm such a mess."
I feel a pang of guilt for pushing him away, for denying us both the happiness we deserve.
Boone smiles at me and cuddles me closer. "I love you because you're you. And you're not a mess. You've just been through a lot. You're being cautious. I get that."
His words seep into me, soothing my insecurities. His acceptance, his understanding, it all means so much to me.
"I love you too, Boone," I whisper back.
As I look into his eyes, I see a future filled with love and understanding. It's a future I want to be a part of.
Boone grins at my words. "Come here, sweetheart," he says.
Then he dips his head down and kisses me.
His lips are full and soft as he slants his mouth over mine, stroking his tongue into my mouth in a way that makes me ache between my legs.
Then his lips move along my jaw, planting gentle kisses all the way down the curve of my neck.
I thread my fingers through his hair.
He licks into the hollow of my throat as his thumbs brush against my nipples through the thin fabric of my sweater. Quickly, they tighten into hard points, and I moan at the feeling.
"Boone," I say with a breathless whisper. "That feels…really good."
"You have no idea how bad I want you, Caroline," Boone groans as he drops his forehead to mine. "Can I touch you more, baby? Please?"
The rough sound of his voice sends another tingle of pleasure to my core.
"Yes, please touch me more."
Boone leans me back so that I'm lengthwise on the couch with my back against the pillows. He kisses between my breasts as he pops the buttons of my sweater one by one.
Then he slips his hand around my back to unclasp my bra.
I feel my face flush as Boone tosses my sweater and bra to the floor so that I'm completely naked from the waist up. Then he palms one of my breasts and licks a wet circle around my nipple before he flicks it with his tongue.
I moan and pull his head closer.
"You like that, baby?" he rumbles.
I moan louder, and he does it again.
It's like my nipple has a direct line to my clit. Every flick of his tongue feels like a spark between my legs, and I feel myself getting wetter by the second. Suddenly, I'm aching to feel his tongue everywhere.
Boone practically reads my mind.
He kisses his way down my stomach, peeling down my leggings and panties as he goes. Then he tosses them aside and yanks my thighs apart before he sits back on his haunches.
His eyes go hooded as he stares down at me.
"Goddamn, baby. You look so pretty with your legs spread for me like that," he groans. "I think you deserve a treat."
Then he uses his thumbs to spread me even wider as he thrusts into me with his tongue.
Fireworks flare in my vision as Boone licks me like I'm his favorite dessert.
I moan and writhe as I grind shamelessly against his face, rubbing my clit against his nose as he licks his way inside of me. Boone's strong arms pin my hips in place as he devours me.
Another surge of moisture gushes through me, and a part of me expects Boone to slow down or pull away.
Instead, he grabs me by the thighs and yanks me closer as he moans.
"It feels so good," I whine. "Boone, it feels so good."
The sensation is amazing. I feel hot and wet and full, and with every new wave of pleasure, I feel myself being wound up tighter and tighter…
"That's it, baby," Boone grinds out. "Make that sweet pussy come for me."
His mouth moves up to suckle my clit. Then he slips two fingers inside of me and curls his knuckles against a spot that makes me see stars.
And with that, I'm done for.
My inner walls start to flutter, and suddenly, my orgasm crashes over me.
Boone plants soft kisses along my skin as I come down from my high. Once I stop moving, he looks up at me and grins.
"You're so fucking hot, Caroline," he says.
I can't help but blush. "Really?"
"Really," then he smirks. "And I'm just getting started."