2. Boone
BOONE
“Boone?” Melanie James folds her arms across her chest, giving me the suspicious up and down look as I approach the bar.
Sawyer appears passed out, her cheek resting on one arm.
Mel’s been watching her like a hawk, like the solid best friend she is, but I’m surprised my buddy Rex hasn’t kicked her out for it.
“She called me,” I explain.
“Why would Sawyer call you?” Mel fires back.
“Good question.” I lift my Stetson and run a hand through my hair. This was not how I thought my night would go. No one warned me Sawyer Rose was back in Wildwood Springs. If I’d had advanced knowledge, I’d have packed up and headed to my off-grid cabin until she left again.
“She was trying to call an Uber,” Mel said, shaking her head.
“For fuck’s sake,” I grumble, wondering how the hell she ended up dialing my number. But her confusing conversation makes a whole lot more sense now. “Does she need a ride?”
“We walked here.”
“Can you call your husband?”
“Jake’s at home with the kids. Abby’s currently puking her guts out.
So no , I can’t call my husband.” Melanie closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before reopening them.
“Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do.
But you know Rex is about two seconds from kicking her out.
Can you help me figure this out or not?”
I answer by scooping Sawyer into my arms. Rex nods, mouthing thank you from the opposite end of the bar.
The only woman I’ve ever loved nestles her cheek against my shoulder, and dammit if that jasmine scented perfume doesn’t hit me square in the chest, taking me right the fuck down memory lane to the night I bought it for her.
She still wears it .
Mel follows me outside and opens the back passenger door to my truck. I lay Sawyer down on the back seat and cover her with a blanket. She’ll probably bitch about it in the morning because it’s covered in dog hair. But she won’t be my problem then.
“Am I taking her to your place?” I ask Mel as we regroup at the front of my truck.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Abby might’ve brought home the flu.”
“Where’s Sammie?”
“Inside celebrating with her new fiancé.”
The mumbled maid of honor comment makes more sense now, too. I want to feel bad for Sawyer, but how can I? I’d known since we were fifteen that I wanted to marry her. I’d always known she was the one. And yet, when I finally popped the question, she told me no and ran off to the fucking city.
“She can’t go to their place, Boone,” Mel said, her tone a plea.
“Fuck me,” I grumble, realizing exactly where this is going.
“Can you just look out for her tonight?” Mel asks as the first raindrops hit my arms. “I’ll help her figure out somewhere else to stay in the morning.”
Raindrops fall quicker, a warning that the predicted heavy overnight storm has arrived.
“Get in the truck.”
“I owe you one,” Mel says as I drive through the neighborhood toward her house.
“Did you really think buying her drinks was the best solution?”
“It was that or she was going to run. She would’ve regretted running out on her sister’s celebration. I couldn’t let her do that.” Mel pulls out her phone, her fingers moving across the screen quickly. No doubt sending a text to Sawyer’s sister, filling her in.
“Wish she regretted running out on me,” I murmur.
“To be honest Boone,” Mel looks over her shoulder into the backseat where Sawyer is lightly snoring. “I think she does.”
My heart twists at the admission I know Mel wouldn’t make if it weren’t true. But it doesn’t fucking change anything. Sawyer made her choice to leave. And she made her choice to stay gone.
I pull into the driveway of Mel’s house, getting as close as I can to the front door without driving on the lawn.
The raindrops fall heavier, which only irritates me more.
I was supposed to be at home, minding my own damn business.
Watching the weather in case I needed to tend to the animals.
Poor Thunder is probably cowering under my bed, anticipating the storm.
“Call me in the morning,” I say firmly to Mel.
“I will.”
“I mean it, Mel. Don’t try any stupid shit like playing cupid. This was over a long time ago. She needs to stay somewhere else after tonight.”
“I’ll come out and get her,” Mel promises just before she slams the passenger door shut and rushes for her front door. I wait until she’s safely inside before backing out and heading home.
Sawyer is still out cold when I carry her inside through the garage. God, I miss how fucking good she feels in my arms. The feel of her tit smashed up against my chest. The warmth of her curvy figure nestled against me creates an internal raging fire.
She’s always been a bit of a lightweight. I’d lost count of how many nights I had to carry her home because she passed out from two or three drinks made too strong.
Hell, I think I’ve missed the days of tucking her into bed. Sawyer has always been a bit strong willed and independent, which I’ve always fucking admired about her. But I also really enjoyed the times she let her guard down and let me take care of her.
I pull back the covers and put her in my bed, but I don’t get the covers pulled over her legs before her eyes fly wide open and she slaps a hand over her mouth.
I move out of the way as she makes a beeline for the bathroom. I give her a moment before following her inside. As I’ve done so many times before, I sit my ass on the side of the soaker tub I installed just for her and pull back her hair.
In some twisted way, it’s as though no time has passed.
But deep inside the caverns of a heart that hasn’t been fucking whole since the day she refused the ring and fled, reality echoes a warning not to get caught up in the past. Because the minute she’s done here, she’ll head right back to her fancy life in the city and forget I fucking exist.