Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
ariana
This is the best day of my life.
I am sprawled out on the ground in the pen, Kelly Clarkson blaring through the speakers, with baby goats using my body as a trampoline. I can’t stop laughing. I am giggling so hard that I can’t breathe, even when one of them grabs my hair in its mouth and runs away, nearly taking my head with it.
I slide my eyes to the gate, where Boston is watching with his arms tossed over the top. He grins down at me, green eyes twinkling, his smile genuine. I want to ask him to join me, to beg him to get in here and experience this magic with me, but I can’t get a word out with how hard I’m laughing.
I don’t need to ask, anyway. He enters the pen, his eyes glued to my face, and crosses his arms in front of his chest as he hovers above me.
“Come on!” I say, still in hysterics. “Join the fun.”
“Oh, I am going to.” He dips his chin. “I was just giving you a chance to enjoy it, because there is no way in hell that they will give you any attention once I drop my ass on the ground.”
“They like me!” I argue, letting out a grunt when one does a spinning kick off my stomach.
“They like everyone,” he says with a deep, rumbling laugh. “They love me.”
Proving his point, he drops onto his butt against the gate. All the goats stop in their tracks, Kelly Clarkson still blasting, and they storm toward him like a colony of ants on steroids.
I sit up on my elbows, watching him catch half of them in one arm. He pets a few while juggling the others, pressing his lips to one of the full grown goat’s heads—this one desperate to cuddle him.
I’m smiling so hard that my face actually hurts.
His eyes find mine above the chaos. He grins, not complaining about the trampling, not scolding any of them. And I realize that Boston might not want children, but he already has kids. A bunch of them. And cows. And dogs. He already has a whole family of his own.
He’s caring. Nurturing. He has a ton of love to give, even if he doesn’t realize it.
Watching animals adore a man, and watching that man adore them right back, it is impeccably attractive. A feeling stirs deep in my gut that I have not felt in ages. It flutters and soars and makes me feel a bit woozy when I breathe.
Butterflies.
My smile slowly fades.
Shit.
We spend some more time in the field with the dogs.
Since Wanton already loves me, he sticks by my side and gets extra special attention.
I’m playing favourites with absolutely no shame.
I don’t even feel a bit guilty. He’s got seniority in my heart.
By the time we’re done, the sun is setting, and Boston lets me feed the cows before we trudge back inside, my heart completely fulfilled.
“Shower?” he murmurs.
“Me or you?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
He smirks. “Both.”
I shrug. “I’m feeling a little dirty.”
He rushes me, hands sliding around my waist from behind, his chin on my shoulder as he hauls me back to his chest. “Aren’t you always?”
I laugh, rushing forward to beat him to the bathroom.
He catches me quickly and then we’re tearing off each other’s clothes and our bodies are intertwined, mouths exploring, breathing heavy.
He takes me against the wall and I nearly collapse when I finish, but he manages to keep me upright until he follows behind.
He washes my hair and I wash his. He kisses me under the spray of water and I kiss him back.
It’s little things like this. Everything is so fun with him. So effortless.
Finally done wasting water, Boston dries me off and wraps an oversized robe around my body.
I pull him back to my mouth the second the tie is fastened.
Neither of us hear the car pull up. Neither of us hear the dogs barking to give us a heads up, either. Neither of us hear footsteps on the porch or the door swing open, but we do hear him scream as he enters the house.
“Boss!”
We both freeze.
Carter.
My heart quite literally stops beating and falls all the way to my gut, right out of my ass, and lands on the floor.
Boston’s face drains of all colour, inches from mine
My mind immediately reels, trying to solve this problem before it begins. With one look at Boston, it’s clear I have to take the lead here. We have mere seconds before things go completely ass up and we have to use them wisely. His brain has left the building.
My car isn’t here, it’s parked at the condo. My shoes are sitting at the door of The Penthouse, which my brother will not spot unless he goes snooping around in there, which he won’t do—unless he goes looking for Boston.
He has to go and put on the performance of a century. Right now.
“Go!” I whisper, reaching for the bathroom door.
I open it, not giving him a second to overthink.
With one last look at his terror-ridden face, I shove him out of the bathroom, whipping a towel at him to cover himself with.
He somehow manages to catch it, despite looking like he’s about to pass out, so that’s a good sign.
He hasn’t completely powered down on me.
I can’t blame him. I might faint, too. Right here. Right now. On his bathroom floor.
“Boston!” my brother screams.
“You have to go,” I whisper, my heart pounding in my ears. “You have to pull it together. Go down there and act your fucking ass off, Boston.”
I shut the door in his terrified face, lock it, and flick off the lights.
I doubt my brother would just waltz up here and use this particular bathroom, but you can’t be too safe.
If he tries to use this one instead of the two on the first floor, someone up there is really out to get me, and I deserve to be caught.
I keep my back pressed against the door, my whole body shaking, and let out a long breath when I finally hear Boston’s feet climbing down his steps.
Good. He’s moving.
“You need to learn to knock.”
“Oh shit, were you in the shower?” I hear my brother say. “Getting in a little rub and tug?”
They head further into the house, their voices fading to nothing.
What feels like hours pass. I sit at the door, my arms wound around my legs, my eyes burning with tears that I refuse to shed.
My heart is seized by panic. Why is he here?
What are they talking about? I have no idea where my phone is.
That’s all I keep thinking about. Did I leave it in the kitchen?
Is it on Boston’s bedroom floor? Is it on silent?
Is one text message going to destroy us?
Carter didn’t sound angry. He sounded completely normal. Absolutely fine. He sounded like Carter.
Which means that he doesn’t know. He just happened to show up at the worst possible time, and Boston just happens to need to learn how to lock his doors.
What if my car had been here? What would I have done?
What would Boston have done? What would Carter have done?
Eventually, the doorknob turns, but meets resistance. My head snaps up, my breath getting stuck in my throat.
A light tap follows.
“Ari,” Boston says gently.
I rise to my feet, unlocking the door. I open it slowly, peering into the hall.
Boston reaches in and flicks on the lights. He scans my face, his brow furrowed in the middle, eyes wide.
I stare up at him, consumed by worry. That was too close for comfort, but it still wasn’t enough to make me let go. It’s not enough to make me want to quit. But surely, Boston is going to run now. That was a warning shot. A karmic warning shot.
Boston doesn’t say anything. He steps forward, slipping his hands under my jaw, and presses his mouth to my head before he pulls me to his chest. “You okay?”
“Are you?”
“No,” he answers honestly. He’s trembling, I can feel it. “He came by for a beer. Arden’s working nights and you’re working late on your school work. He was bored.”
Shame hits me, but not enough of it.
“I’m not ready to stop this yet,” I admit.
He tenses, but drags a hand up the robe around my frame. “Me neither.”
“Lock your doors from now on,” I murmur.
“Done. You’re not driving here ever again,” he informs me. “Shoes get tossed in a closet. Purse comes up to my room.”
“Okay.” I nod, standing on my tiptoes so he can hug me in that all-consuming way. He does. He wraps his arms completely around my body, holding me so tightly it feels like we’re going to merge together.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper.
“I’ve never been more terrified in my life,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here.”
That makes two of us.