IN BED WITH BOONE
Page 20
"I guess I will."
Boone smiled. He kissed her deep and long. And when he took his mouth from hers, he whispered, "Yee-haw."
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Epilogue
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Summer in Mississippi. Sunday dinner. A father-in-law who didn't like him much, a mother-in-law who was still pouting because there hadn't been a big wedding, and a grandmother-in-law who was determined to feed him until he literally burst. To Boone's way of thinking, chasing bad guys was much easier.
Jayne rolled into him and woke up slowly, and with a smile. They'd spent the night here in Hooker Bend, Mississippi, sleeping in the bed where Jayne had grown up. It was a double bed, not a king like they had at home, and the old thing was noisy as hell. Everyone in the house surely knew when he so much as turned over in the night. He hated antiques, and this house was filled with them.
"Good morning," she whispered.
Boone kissed his wife. "Good morning."
Her mother had not been happy that they'd flown to Vegas and been married by an Elvis impersonator, but when they'd started talking weddings and Jayne's mother had mentioned a year of planning, it had seemed like a good idea.
No way had he been willing to wait a year to make Jayne his wife.
Her smile was warm. "I dreamed about babies," she said, sighing. "Your nephew was so cute."
"Our nephew." Their two-day visit to Atlanta had been quick. Shea and Jayne had hit it off, as he'd known they would. Everyone loved Jayne. What was not to love? Boone was so content these days he hadn't even wanted to slug Clint when his little brother lifted the new baby and introduced him to Uncle BooBoo.
Boone had been surprised by the intensity of the emotions seeing that baby had triggered. Justin Taggert, now three days old, was a part of the family now. Someone else to watch over and protect, another person to draw into the close circle. How could you fall in love with a tiny wiggling thing that couldn't speak, smile or fend for itself in even the smallest way?
"How many do you want?" he asked. A short time ago the idea of being a father had terrified him. Now … it seemed right.
"Babies?"
"What else?"
Jayne snuggled close and murmured. "I haven't decided. More than one, for sure. I always hated being an only child. Maybe we should have three or four." She smiled. "Three boys and a girl."
"Three girls and a boy," he countered. He rolled on top of Jayne. The bed creaked like it was about to fall apart.
Jayne laughed softly and raked her fingers through his hair.
Her father the senator, who insisted that Boone call him Gus, had invited Boone into his office last night after dinner and offered him twenty thousand dollars to cut his hair. After an appropriately vulgar response, Boone had told the senator that if Jayne ever asked him to cut his hair, he'd do it, and it wouldn't cost anyone a dime.
He didn't think Gus was going to love having a Sinclair as a son-in-law. After all, Boone's family included a rodeo clown, a reporter who liked to stir up trouble and her once-convicted-of-murder husband. And him. He was used to being a black sheep and didn't mind carrying on the tradition to a new family. Besides, there was always Dean to smooth things over.
Things had not gotten off to a great start. A wily photographer, who had slipped past Clint while he was hog-tying a reporter, had taken a picture of Jayne and Boone in the Flagstaff hotel parking lot a little more than a month ago. The photograph had made quite a few papers. They'd been kissing. He had been holding Jayne off her feet at the time, and her skirt had ridden up a little. It wasn't scandalous by any means, but Jayne had shown a lot more thigh than usual. The senator had hated the picture, according to Jayne.
Boone had framed one and hung it on his office wall.
"Are you ready for this?" Jayne whispered.
Boone rocked his body against hers. The bed squeaked. At this rate they were going to end up on the floor. Which also squeaked, but not as much.
His wife smiled. He loved her smile. "Not that," she whispered. "Babies. In-laws. Sunday dinner. Forever."
"Yes."
"No doubts?"
"I took an oath before Elvis," he reminded her. "For better or for worse."
"So far it's all been better." She hooked one leg around his.
"I love you," he said. "When the worse comes, we'll be ready."
She didn't argue with him and try to tell him their days would all be sunshine and roses. Occasionally there would be sunburn and thorns. There would be nightmares and failures, along with the joys and successes. That was life. It was real. This was real.
Jayne was more than his lover, more than his wife. She was his partner in every way.
And she owned him from the heart out.
Yee-haw.
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