She took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders. “No. I’m not. I’m not going to let them make me miserable. I have just as much right to be here as anybody else does…And clearly their lives can’t be all that interesting since they’ve got so much time to worry about mine.”
“Then let’s give them something to talk about.” Boone didn’t give her a chance to reply, but leaned in until their lips were barely a breath apart. Cupping her cheek gently, he tipped her head back slightly and then settled his lips over hers. It wasn’t heated or passionate. It wasn’t the time or place for that. But it wasn’t any less sweet. Kissing her there, in full view of the world, he was letting them all know that she was his.
He eased back, smiling at her and the slightly dazed look in her eyes. “That ought to keep them busy for a while.”
“Who?” she asked, then spoiled it with a wink.
Boone laughed as he settled his arm around her shoulders. Tugging her closer on the hard concrete seats, he decided that life, for the moment at least, was just about perfect.
Next to him, Charlie leaned over and said, “Man, you are sunk like a leaky ass boat.”
Boone nodded. “I’m okay with that.”
The remainder of the game passed in a blur. Like every small southern town, football wasn’t just a sport. It was a religion. The crowd eventually lost interest in whatever was going on between him and Caroline. Instead, they kept their attention focused on the gridiron and the kids who were putting heart and soul into a game, not for money, but for the love of playing.
Nick, Boone realized, was a hell of a football player. Whatever horrors Lucy and Charlie might impart about their painfully adolescent son, there was no denying his talent.
“Damn! Look at that kid run!” he whispered as Nick headed for the end zone.
Charlie nodded. “He’s good. He’d damn well better be, because his grades sure as hell won’t get him a scholarship.”
“Are they good enough for him to keep a scholarship?”
Lucy chimed in. “Yes. And they will stay that way, or so help me god, I will skin his ass.”
“You will not,” Caroline said. “You’ll ground him. You’ll sit on top of him while he studies, and you’ll threaten the lives of anyone who dares distract him.”
Boone chuckled as he rose from his seat. It was true. Lucy talked tough, but hidden inside her scrawny body was a heart the size of Texas. “They’re gonna call this game any minute. Right now, it’s just getting embarrassing for the other team. We’ll meet you guys at the PitStop.” He held out a hand to Caroline, and she accepted it, rising gracefully to her feet and following him from the bleachers.
“Why are we leaving early?” she asked as they crossed the parking lot to his truck.
He answered as he opened the truck door for her. “Because I want to have you to myself for a minute. Also, Lucy needs a minute or two to gloat without us around. Holding it in any longer might kill her.”
She tossed a sultry glance over her shoulder, blonde hair sliding over the lacy black sweater. Unable to resist, Boone leaned into the truck, tugged the sweater aside just a bit, and kissed the satiny skin of her shoulder. She shivered in response.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he admitted.
“I’m glad you waited till now. Otherwise, the good citizens of Charlottesville would be scandalized.”
“Oh, they will be yet…You can always count on the PitStop for raunchy music and even raunchier dancing.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need vodka.”
Boone was still chuckling as he climbed into the truck and headed for the bar. With any luck, they’d get there before everyone else and snag one of the few tables. It was a strange thing to have a first date with someone you’d known all your life, but at least it seemed to be going his way.
Chapter Seven
‡
Caroline left the ladies room at the PitStop, though it was doubtful many “ladies” had ever occupied it. The sheer quantity of phone numbers and poorly illustrated penises adorning the walls was proof of that. Still, she was having a good night. As nervous as she’d been about being seen with Boone, or with anyone since Charlottesville was chocked full of judgmental assholes, she was still having fun.
The smile that curved her lips faded as she rounded the corner and entered the main part of the bar. The thing about luck was that it always ran out. Standing at the bar, ordering their second round, Boone had his back to her and to the door. Standing just inside it, and clearly already drunk, stood William, who looked directly at her, his eyes cold and mean.
It was no accident he was there. The PitStop wasn’t the only bar in town, but it was the one William had always considered to be beneath him. He preferred to do his drinking at one of the hotels or at the country club. Or his mistress’ apartment, she thought a little bitterly.
It wasn’t jealousy. It was humiliation. William had made a fool out of her in front of the entire town. Deciding he’d ruined enough things for her, she vowed she wasn’t going to let him ruin her first real date with Boone. Crossing the room with a purposeful stride and grabbing him by the arm, she dragged him back outside and onto the wide front porch.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
He laughed, the same ugly, derisive sound she’d heard so frequently when they’d been married. “I’m seeing how the other half lives,” he replied. “I’m not impressed. Of course, I don’t really have to answer your questions since you’re not my wife anymore.”
“William, just go home. There’s no need for things to be ugly like this.”
“Ugly? Ugly like you out whoring it up with an inked up, white-trash asshole and his slut of a sister? Is that what you mean by ugly, Caroline?”
All the anger and hurt that she’d been pushing down for years, swallowing it back to keep the peace, bubbled to the surface. “You don’t get to talk about them that way! You’re a criminal! You robbed the entire damned town, William! You were a horrible husband! Mean, hateful, cruel, insulting! All you know how to do is belittle people and call them names. You’re a nasty, broken little boy on the inside!”
“Fat-ass bitch! Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
“I’m talking to my fat-ass, soon-to-be ex-husband. You’re not rocking the six pack abs of your college days, William. You’re bald, you’ve got a beer gut, and you know what else? You’re lousy in bed!”
By the time she’d finished, she was shouting. The few people that were gathered on the porch enjoying their cigarettes were staring. Some laughed, some looked uncomfortable, and some settled in to watch the show.
*
Boone raised his beer in salute to the bartender as he grabbed the other bottles and headed back to their table. He frowned as he approached it, seeing a worried looking Lucy and a frowning Charlie.
“What’s going on? Where’s Caroline?”
“She’s outside with her asshole ex, and Charlie won’t let me go after her,” Lucy snapped.
“It’s not your place. She’s here with Boone, and Boone needs to handle it,” Charlie responded. “You don’t have to fix everything for everybody.”
Boone placed the longnecks on the table. “I’m gonna go see what the hell is going on.”
“Beat his ass,” Lucy said. “Lord knows he deserves it!”
Boone didn’t respond. He was already heading for the door. Pushing it open, he stepped out into the cool night air and listened to the sound of Caroline’s raised voice. She didn’t sound afraid. She sounded pissed, and that was the only thing that kept him from taking William down right there on the spot.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, walking up behind the arguing couple. Caroline flushed in response, but William just smiled that same smarmy shark smile he always had.
“Well, if it isn’t my fat-ass ex-wife’s new, low-class boyfriend. How’s the tattoo business?”
“My business,” Boone said, “is just that and none of yours
. Since you’re so concerned about the class of people you’re associating with, maybe you ought to head back up on the hill and hobnob with those more your kind.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, asshole!” William sneered.
Boone continued, “Except for the fact that you’ve swindled half the people in this town, and they’re probably not so forthcoming with invitations now, are they? I don’t much give a damn where you go, dickhead, as long as you’re not anywhere near Caroline.”
“Don’t make me kick your ass again, Caldwell. I’d hate to leave you crying on the asphalt like I did last time.”
Boone nodded. “You did. You and about three of your friends. You don’t have any friends here tonight, and I’m not a skinny sixteen-year-old kid anymore, either. Try it and I promise you the outcome will be very different.”
William turned back to Caroline. “It’s a damn shame you had to let him put his dirty hands on you. Fixed up that way, you’re almost hot again. Maybe if you’d gone to that much effort while we were married, I wouldn’t have had to fuck someone else.”
Boone didn’t hesitate again. He grabbed William by the arm, spun him around, dodged the wide and clumsy punch, but landed one of his own right on the other man’s jaw. William sank to the rough boards of the porch with a pathetic groan.
“Boone! You can’t get in trouble over him! He’s not worth it!”
“What the hell is he gonna do? Call the cops? He’s out on bail, Caroline. You think he wants them to know he’s coming to dive bars and stirring up trouble?”
“Let’s just go home,” she said. “I don’t much feel like being social anymore any way.”
At that moment, Lucy and Charlie came bustling out. “Time to go,” Charlie said. “Heard the bartender calling the cops. What the hell kind of dive bar doesn’t like a good fight every now and then?”
Boone took Caroline’s hand, tugging her toward the truck that was parked near the end of the lot. Charlie and Lucy were way ahead of them, making a beeline for the minivan he’d busted Charlie’s balls over ever since he’d bought the damn thing.
“What did he mean when he said he kicked your ass once before?” Caroline’s face bore a look of puzzlement as he held the truck door for her.
Boone shrugged. “It was a long time ago. He apparently didn’t take kindly to the fact that I had a gigantic crush on you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You or Lucy should have told me what he did to you!”
“Why?” he demanded. “What good would it have done? Would you have stood up to your daddy and refused to marry the son of a bitch? Far as I know, Caroline, tonight might be the only time in your life you’ve ever stood up to anyone!”
He regretted it the minute he said it. He was still mad at William, spoiling for a fight, and he was taking it out on her. The look of hurt that flashed in her eyes made him feel like the lowest piece of scum that had ever walked. “I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he offered. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.
She shrugged, but there was a tension in her that told him just how much he’d cut her. “You’re right. I’ve never stood up for myself, I’ve never fought back. I always tried to keep the peace and got walked on because of it…It doesn’t matter anyway. We need to get home. The kitten needs to be fed and medicated.”
Maybe it was the slamming of the truck door as he closed it for her or the noise from the bar behind him. Regardless, he didn’t hear William’s approach. When Caroline screamed in warning, he turned, just as the drunk man swung wildly at him with a golf club, undoubtedly retrieved from the back of his Beemer. It missed him by an inch, striking the window and sending a shower of glass over Caroline.
Boone didn’t think, he just reacted. Without a second thought, he tackled William to the ground. His fist connected solidly with the other man’s jaw as they landed on the pavement. He didn’t stop with hitting him just once. By the time he realized what he was doing, Caroline was tugging at his arm, trying to hold him back.
“Boone, stop it! Stop it! You’re going to kill him!”
Disgusted, Boone got to his feet. His knuckles were split and already bruising. His pulse pounded, blood roaring in his ears, and he whirled on her. “Why the fuck do you care? He’s an asshole who cheated on you and ruined your life!”
“You are being such a—such a fucking idiot!” she yelled back. “Yes! There. I said it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You are a fucking idiot!”
To his knowledge, Caroline had never uttered that word. “What?”
“I didn’t stop you for his benefit, you jackass!” she shouted.
Charlie and Lucy came running, the minivan idling in the parking lot behind them.
“Shit,” Charlie said. “You need to get the hell out of here, and you need to do it now. The cops can’t be far off.”
“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Boone asked.
Lucy walked over to William, who was moaning on the ground.
“He broke my fucking nose!”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t a very attractive nose anyway. It might improve it. As for the hospital, if he can complain, I don’t think the damage is too bad. Just go. We’ll get his worthless ass home to his father. I doubt they’d want the cops involved either since he is out on bail!”
Boone took off his jacket and moved toward the truck. Using the bunched fabric, he swept as much glass from the seat as possible. “Get in, but be careful.”
*
Caroline climbed into the truck for the second time. Boone had gotten rid of most of the glass on the seat, but there were still shards in her clothes and in her hair. Moving gingerly, she fastened the seat belt as he slid behind the wheel.
They said nothing as he drove them back toward Main Street and the tiny apartment they shared. She’d overreacted back there, screaming at him like a fool. But she’d been scared, both of his temper and that a part of her was glorying in the fact he was beating William to a bloody pulp.
Boone, she admitted, terrified her in general. Admitting the truth, that she wanted him, was a terrifying prospect. What if she couldn’t live up to the glorified image he held of her? What if he when he got to know the real her, the school boy crush simply withered and died?
When they reached the apartment, he once again came around and opened the door for her. Considering that it no longer had a window, the gentlemanly gesture should have been odd. But it was just Boone. He hadn’t grown up with the money or the connections either she or William had, but in terms of being a gentleman, he had William beat hands down.
Once inside, she went immediately to the small pen they’d created for the kitten. The tiny little thing was throwing a gigantic fit, meowing as loudly and angrily as its little body would allow.
“Someone is not happy!” she cooed, lifting it up and tucking it against her chest. Immediately, the kitten began to purr, its little body vibrating with the heavy thrum. “You still need a name.”
Boone had disappeared into his bedroom, only to reemerge with fresh clothes in his hands. The bathroom door slammed loudly behind him, and the sound of the shower running gave the kitten a run for its money.
“Let’s get you fed and medicated,” Caroline said, continuing to talk to the kitten as if it understood every word she said.
Several spoonfuls of wet cat food later, accompanied by several syringes of water, she put the ointment on the kitten’s eyes and put her back in her little pen. The shower turned off, and she could hear Boone moving around in the bathroom. There was a loud crash followed by a string of curses. Recalling the shape his hands had been in, Caroline decided it was time to beard the lion in his den.
Knocking softly on the door, she called, “Boone, are you okay?”
“Just go away, dammit!” The closed door muffled his surly response.
“Boone, I’m coming in.”
“No!”
Caroline ignored his protest and opened the door. He stood there, wearing onl
y a pair of ancient sweat pants and nothing else. She could see the broad expanse of his back, each muscle perfectly defined, rippling as he tensed. The tribal tattoos that curved around his shoulders were both fierce and strangely beautiful. But it was the other tattoo that caught her eye.
Reversed by the mirror, she could still clearly make out her name emblazoned across his chest. That, she thought, would require some further explanation. But for the moment, there were other matters to attend to. The first aid kit was spilled across the counter as Boone attempted to treat the wounds to his dominant hand.
“Need a little help?” she asked.
“Does it come with a lecture?” he shot back. Clearly, he was still spoiling for a fight.
“No,” she said evenly, though it was difficult since being near him left her breathless. “Just an extra pair of hands.”
Ignoring her shaking hands and the butterflies that were doing swan dives in her stomach, she moved past him to the sink and washed her hands. When she was done, she picked up the small bottle of antiseptic and took his hand in hers. “This will probably sting.”
“I’m getting used to that with you…stinging.”
“I didn’t come in here to fight with you. I came in here because I thought you needed my help,” she replied, a snap to her voice. “What exactly am I supposed to apologize for? Marrying William? Not waiting for you to grow up?”
He inhaled deeply, tipped his head back, and then let it out on a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I’m in a shitty mood, Caroline, and I’m taking it out on you.”
Carefully dabbing the antiseptic onto one of the many cuts that covered his knuckles, she offered up the only thing she could. “I can’t help it that you were younger than me and that I, apparently stupidly, thought you’d get over having a crush on me. I never thought it was anything more than that.”
“Just forget it, alright?”
“That’s a little hard to do,” she answered. Lifting her hand, she placed the pads of her fingers on the tattoo of her name. It was old, faded in places, bisected by a thin scar in others. “Apparently, you haven’t.”
Blue Colla Make Ya Holla Page 20
