He’d shown up at Lucy’s wedding, best man to his army buddy who was becoming his brother-in-law. Bringing Charlie into Lucy’s life, and into Nick’s, had probably been one of the best things Boone had ever done. Lucy’s first boyfriend, the sperm donor for lack of a better term, sure as hell hadn’t been any kind of support. The minute he’d found out Lucy was pregnant, he’d bailed on her.
Lucy had struggled constantly until Charlie came along. Boone had been the best man at their wedding. He’d worn that dress uniform with his dancing green eyes, close-cropped hair, and his desert tan. The resulting breeze from women fanning themselves had damn near capsized the wedding cake.
She’d danced with him that night and had tingled everywhere their bodies had touched. At that point, she’d been married to William just long enough to know it was a horrible mistake. But there’d been no getting out of it by then.
Still following Boone, she entered the apartment behind him. She’d nosed around enough before he got home to familiarize herself with the space. When Lucy had shown her into the apartment earlier and given her what had once been the spare key, she’d hesitated. The truth of the matter was, she didn’t have a choice. She had nowhere else to go.
For a man who’d been there less than a month, he’d sure made himself at home. Comfy couch, two overstuffed leather chairs with an old trunk for a coffee table. There were walls of books: art, design, tattooing, travel books, history, and a wide variety of fiction. Posters and a few framed photos covered the walls.
Attempting to make conversation and not think about the fact she’d just flashed him everything God had given her and Krispy Kreme had added to, she said, “You’ve settled in pretty quickly. The apartment looks nice.”
“Yeah. I got tired of living out of footlockers,” he agreed, sitting down at the small, scarred table that had once occupied his mother’s kitchen. He placed the gutter on the table, and with that same wicked looking tool, began to cut the aluminum vertically up one side. Then he did the other. “Come over here. I’m going to peel back the metal, and you grab the kitten. If it is a kitten. If it’s a rat, which is possible—”
“It’s not a rat!”
“Or a possum, or a raccoon, or even a skunk that’s still too young to spray,” he said. “We live in Kentucky, Caroline.”
She bit her lip. “I’m pretty sure it’s a kitten. It sounds like a kitten.”
“One possessed by the devil, sure.”
Caroline glared at him. “Just get that baby out of there, whatever it is!”
“If it’s a rat and you don’t grab it and it gets loose in my apartment,” he warned, his tone and his expression deadly serious, “you will regret it.”
Caroline swallowed nervously. She’d only seen it in dim light. What if it wasn’t a cat? “Let’s just do this already!”
He stared at her for a second, something even more dangerous glittering in his eyes. “I’m in a damned nightmare,” he finally muttered as he peeled back the aluminum.
Reaching her hands between his, her fingers brushed against the warmth of his skin; she felt the jolt of it all the way to her toes. Ignoring that, she grasped the newly freed, ragged bundle of fur, praying with everything in her that it would be feline.
Lifting up the poor, tiny thing, Caroline’s heart melted. It was the homeliest, sickliest kitten she’d ever seen in her life. Its eyes were swollen shut. It couldn’t have weighed more than half a pound, and its whole shivering body fit into the palm of her hand. “Boone, I don’t know what to do for her… is it a her?
He took the kitten from her hand. “Yes. Almost all tortoiseshell cats are female. First thing is to get her warm.”
Caroline followed him through the apartment to the small bathroom. He filled the sink with warm water and then put a little soap on his hand before dunking the kitten in the water. Her docile display of a few minutes ago vanished. In its place was something that defied description. That tiny cat—all eight ounces of her—kicked, clawed, yowled, bit, and generally advised the world of her displeasure.
“Oh, she’s going to be fine,” Boone said with a laugh. It ended on a hiss as one of her needle-like claws sunk into his hand. “She’s a fighter, alright.”
“Her eyes look so bad! Do you think she’s blind?”
He shrugged as he continued washing the tiny little body and avoiding more of its kitten kung fu. He gently cleaned her eyes, patiently wiping them with a damp cloth until they opened. “I’ll take her to the vet in the morning. Let Dr. Banks take a look at her and see what he thinks.”
A disturbing thought entered her mind. “What will you do with her if she is blind?”
“I’ll learn to love the furniture just where it is,” he said.
Relief washed over her. Not even thinking about what she was doing, Caroline leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He stiffened instantly. His whole body went tight, and when she glanced up, he was staring at her in the mirror with a look on his face that made her want to run. Maybe to him, maybe from him, but it defied her to simply just stand still.
*
Boone couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was leaning into him, her breasts crushed against his back, her arms around him, and her hand lying on his chest, directly over the tattoo of her. Her hair was wet, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on her face, but she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He wanted her so badly at that moment that his whole body ached with it.
“I can’t do this,” he said, pulling the kitten from its warm bath and wrapping it in a towel. “I’m not your buddy or your pal, or your best friend’s baby brother!”
Caroline backed away from him, her face crestfallen and hurt. “But you’re all of those things.”
It felt ridiculous to say it, especially as he was towel drying a bedraggled kitten while uttering the words, but they had to be said. “I’m a man, Caroline. Full grown and with all my working parts. You’ve been running around here half naked, and you’re practically climbing me in my bathroom! What the hell kind of message do you think that sends?”
She backed away from him then. “It’s not like that, Boone!”
He handed the kitten to her. “Maybe it isn’t for you. You seeing me as a kid doesn’t make me one. Take the kitten and keep her with you. Get her dry and hold her to keep her warm.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going to get her some food and the other things she’ll need…and I’m leaving this room before I do something I ought to regret.”
Without another word, Boone left the bathroom, leaving her staring after him as he headed back out into the night.
Chapter Three
‡
Caroline sat huddled on the ancient couch that also served as her bed. There was a second bedroom in the apartment, but it had no bed in it yet. She’d exchanged her damp nightgown for a pair of yoga pants and a UK sweatshirt. Boone’s hoodie was draped over her curled up legs, covering her bare toes. The kitten was tucked against her chest, huddling beneath her chin and purring so loud it was a wonder the windows didn’t rattle.
“How can you possibly produce that much noise?” she asked.
The kitten responded by stretching out her front legs and arching her back, her claws scraping against Caroline’s neck before she once again tucked herself into a tight, purring ball. The small kitten was content, at least. Which was more than could be said of her.
The scene with Boone replayed in her mind. She’d known about his crush when they were younger. He’d been fourteen to her sixteen and that had seemed like such a vast difference then, and honestly it had been.
It’s not such a big difference in your thirties. The little voice was at it again, chipping away at her arguments and making her question the safe distance she’d tried to maintain over the years.
“Lucy is my best friend,” she argued with herself “Right now, she’s my on
ly friend…and I’m living here on his charity, and I’ve already screwed up.” Just saying it aloud made her gut clench. After twelve miserable years of being married to William, she didn’t have much pride left, but all that she still possessed was protesting. A job, she decided, would be the first order of business. As soon as Boone got back, she’d tell him she would only be here for a few days and she’d find some other solution.
“Where the heck is he?” Caroline asked. “He’s been gone for hours.” Looking at the clock, she noted it was nearing midnight. The options for where he might be in Charlottesville were limited.
The kitten did not provide a pithy answer or any particular guidance. It just snuggled against her, warm and content, the unusually loud and gravelly purr reverberating against her chest. “You’re no help at all,” Caroline said to it.
The door swung inward and Boone frowned at her. “That’s really stupid. We have locks for a reason.”
“It’s Charlottesville,” she pointed out.
“Really? You’re going to tell me there’s no crime here? Where is your soon-to-be ex-husband right now?”
“Out on bail,” she admitted reluctantly.
“You should have locked the door,” he said, placing the bags on the counter of the small kitchenette.
“I didn’t know if you had your key with you,” she replied. Staring at the haul he’d brought in, she asked, “How much do you think she’s going to eat.”
“A lot…every two hours. I’m not even sure how old she is. I bought formula and kitten food…I know she’s got teeth,” he remarked. “She’s a biter.”
She’s not the only one. The mental image of sinking her teeth into the thick, heavy muscle that curved between his neck and shoulder had her salivating. It had been more than a year since she’d had sex. Even though it had only been four months since she and William had separated and filed for divorce, he hadn’t touched her in ages, and even then it had been sporadic. He’d blamed it on her weight gain when all along he’d been screwing around with his secretary.
Those thoughts doused her ardor quickly. William had sported thinning hair and a slight paunch, his own body far less than perfect, yet he’d criticized hers. The idea of getting naked in front of someone as fit, and lord was he fit, as Boone was terror inducing. Stretch marks, cellulite, and to be perfectly honest, she’d passed from muffin top to full blown pop-over years earlier.
“Earth to Caroline.”
She jumped, realizing that he’d been talking to her while she’d been mentally cataloging her numerous flaws. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Bring her over here and let’s see what we can get her to eat,” he said. “I know she’s gotta be hungry.”
As he said it, Caroline’s own stomach growled. “Yeah, she’s not the only one.”
Boone shot her a concerned look. “Haven’t you eaten?”
She shook her head. “I went to the grocery store earlier, but people just kept staring…so I wound up just leaving the cart and running away.”
He opened one of the cans of kitten formula and filled a bottle with it. Turning on the hot water, he held the small baby bottle under the stream, letting it warm. “I don’t mean to be nosey, but what are you doing for money, Car?”
Hearing the shortened form of her name made her smile. It was like putting on old, comfy clothes. “I’ve got a little money in the bank but not much. We’re close enough to Lexington that I might try to get a job there. There’s not a lot I’m qualified for, since being First Lady of Charlottesville pretty much involved smiling and not saying anything when my husband was an ass.”
With the bottle warmed, Boone took the kitten from her. It protested with a loud grunt, which made him smile and made Caroline’s heart leap. “Let’s see what this little girl likes,” he said.
Caroline looked at his large hands, callused and scarred, cradling that tiny kitten with such gentleness it made her ache. Then the kitten began to eat, greedily, and thoughts of Boone’s manly, sexy hands faded. She had to suppress her squeal at the cuteness when the kitten’s ears began to wiggle as she suckled the small bottle.
“Thatta girl,” he encouraged. “You know just what to do.”
It didn’t take long for the kitten to finish. She protested loudly when the bottle ran dry. “She’s still hungry.”
Boone took a baby wipe from the package and began rubbing her bottom. “Yeah, but I don’t want to feed her any more right now. I don’t know how long she’s been without food, and too much too soon might make her sick.”
Caroline watched him with concern. “What in the world are you doing?”
“Caroline, didn’t you ever have kittens or puppies at your house growing up?”
She laughed. “In that mausoleum? Please! The only time I ever got to play with kittens and puppies was at your house.”
He nodded, but his expression was full of pity as he explained, “Mama cats clean their babies’ bottoms after they eat…it stimulates them to go to the bathroom. And since this one doesn’t appear to have a mama, that’ll be your job from now on.”
“What?”
“I have to get the shop opened,” he reminded her. “Since you’re not working anywhere at the moment, you get to be the kitty mama.”
Caroline watched as he put the kitten on some kind of waterproof pad where it promptly peed. “How do you know when she’s about to pee?”
He laughed. “You don’t. It’s going to get messy, princess.”
“Don’t call me that!” The protest was more heated than his teasing tone had warranted. But William had always taunted her about being a spoiled brat, being a princess that couldn’t do anything but take up space and look pretty. Then he’d add the last part was getting harder and harder to manage as her ass kept getting wider. Of course, he’d always attacked when she’d made suggestions about spending more time at home or going to marriage counseling, or asking if he’d be home for dinner.
“I should have known,” she muttered.
*
Boone knew instantly that he’d said something wrong. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that.”
She looked up at him, her big blue eyes full of hurt, and it was like a punch in the gut. He wanted nothing more than to make that look go away.
Shaking her head, her reply was soft. “I know. I’m sorry for being…overly sensitive, I guess.”
As she started to move away from him, Boone knew he couldn’t let that happen. Capturing her hand, he tugged her back. “No. If something hurts you, Caroline, you need to tell me…That way I won’t do it again.”
“It wasn’t you…just, William always called me that, and not in a nice way.”
Boone wanted to kick his ass. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt that way, but it was the first time prompted by protectiveness and not jealousy. “Well, I’ll never call you anything in a not nice way. You deserve a man who appreciates you, Caroline, who would look at you every day and know just how lucky he was to have you.”
God, he wanted it to be him. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life.
The question burned in his mind, and he had to ask it. “Why did you marry him, Caroline? I never understood that.”
She looked down, a flush staining her cheeks. “It just seemed like the best option at the time…Every time I questioned whether or not it was a good idea, my dad would remind me that no one else was beating down the door to ask me.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She had to know she was beautiful. “That’s bullshit. You know you’re beautiful.”
She looked up then, her lips parted and a look of surprise on her face. “I know you think that, but not everyone agrees.”
Standing so close to her that he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo and see the tiny freckles on her nose, his eyes roamed further to the gentle curve of her lower lip. She looked up at him then, wide blue eyes flaring with awareness.
It was as simple as breathing. Leaning in, he settled his lips on
hers, savoring the softness, the resilience of her flesh as he staked a claim that had been burning inside him for decades. She tasted like heaven to him, sweet and tart at the same time, like the apples he used to steal in the spring.
She stiffened against him, shock and surprise battling against the sweetness of a kiss he’d waited eighteen years for. There was no question the kiss would win out. To be certain of it, he poured everything he had into it. His lips moved over hers, firm but gentle. Insistent but never harsh.
She sank against him, her body softening, her lips parting. There was no victory dance, only the headlong rush. Taking her bottom lip between his, he nipped it gently, then soothed it lightly with his tongue. Her answering sigh sparked the need in him, the hunger for something more primal.
Tracing the soft curves of her lips with his tongue, he delved inside. A shallow thrust and retreat, something to make her yearn for more.
As much as he wanted her, he needed her to want him more, to be mindless with it. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was the desperate fear of being crushed by rejection from her, but he needed her to go wild for him. He needed to see the girl next door turn into something dark and edgy because he drove her to it.
Sliding his hand up her back, twining his fingers in the golden strands still damp from the rain, he tugged her head back. It was a dominant gesture, one that stated emphatically that he was in charge. A soft moan escaped her, along with a little shiver that told him she liked it.
The softness of her body against him, the hardened points of her nipples pressing into his chest, was driving him wild. With one hand still tugging at her hair and his lips playing on hers with single-minded determination, his other hand roamed freely. From her rounded shoulders, down to the curve of her waist, and then to the swell of her hips. A dozen images played in his mind, each one involving his fingers digging into that soft flesh as he buried himself inside her again and again.
Blue Colla Make Ya Holla Page 17
