by Barbara Gee
Jolene gave her a quick hug. “I will. Bye, Maddy”
She drove straight to Boone’s cabin, relieved to see the company car he usually drove parked by the door. Hurrying up the steps onto the small porch, she tapped lightly on his front door.
“Boone, it’s Jolene. Can I come in?”
There was no answer and she tapped again. “I just want to make sure you’re all right, then I’ll leave. Please, Boone.”
She heard soft footsteps, then he swung the door partway open. He was barefoot, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, his belt gone and his jeans hanging low on his slim hips. His face was pale and haggard, and Jolene slipped through the narrow opening and into the cabin, the main room lit only by a dim lamp on the table.
“Boone, what’s wrong? Is it your head?” She took his hand and led him away from the door to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is it a migraine?”
He closed his eyes and brought his arms up, lacing his fingers behind his head as it drooped towards his chest.
“Nah, it’s not a migraine.” He let his arms fall. “You shouldn’t be here, Jolene.”
“I had to come,” she said. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
He looked at her, his eyes bleak, his jaw tight. “I can’t. Not yet. Not until I decide what I’m going to do.”
“But Boone, whatever it is you’re holding in is eating away at you. What happened tonight? One minute you were fine and excited about the game, and then you looked like you were going to pass out. You don’t need this kind of stress. We need to deal with whatever problem you’re having so you can focus on getting completely healthy.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Okay, I understand if you don’t want to share it with me, but Boone, you have to talk to someone. You had such a good week and made so much progress, but this kind of episode could cause a real setback. I don’t want to minimize whatever it is you’re going through, but is it worth holding inside at the expense of your health? You know we have two incredible psychologists right here at the center. If one of them—”
“A psychologist can’t help me, Jolene,” he interrupted.
“Boone,” she said firmly. “You can’t carry this alone. If you won’t let me help, please, at least tell me who can and I’ll get them here.”
“I don’t think anyone can,” he said on a sigh. “I’ve prayed a thousand prayers, begging for guidance, but I’m not getting any answers and I don’t know what else to do.” He straightened and pushed himself to his feet. “Right now I need sleep. I don’t sleep much. I try not to take pills but tonight—” he shook his head. “I have to take one tonight.”
He went into his bathroom and came out with a bag from a pharmacy, still stapled closed. He yanked it open and took out the bottle, holding it up so she could see the label.
“It’s a low dose, and I haven’t taken anything since I got here. Just so you know I’m not a user.”
She nodded. The drug was harmless if not abused, and she agreed that he needed to sleep. She wished he’d told her about his insomnia, but like many, he was good at hiding it.
He crossed the room to the small refrigerator and took out a bottle of juice. He swallowed the pill and drained the bottle.
“Don’t go,” he said, taking a pair of shorts from a shelf before closing the door to the bathroom.
Jolene stayed on the bed, not sure what came next. She heard the shower come on, and after ten minutes shut off again. Then she heard him at the sink, presumably brushing his teeth. He emerged after that, his hair damp, dressed only in the shorts. He hung his towel on a peg to dry and went to the sink for a glass of water.
When he walked toward the bed, Jolene quickly stood up. He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes weary and troubled. Reaching down, he pulled back the sheet and comforter on the bed.
“Stay with me for a little while. Can you do that?”
She nodded, desperate to help him. He slid between the sheets and pulled the blanket to his waist, then held out an arm to her. Jolene lowered herself to the edge of the bed, toeing off her shoes. She felt his hand on her back, rubbing lightly over the letters on the jersey she still wore.
“I love seeing you in my jersey,” he said a little thickly. The drug was already starting to work.
Jolene stretched out beside him, on top of the covers, and his strong arm immediately curled around her, drawing her close to his body with his chin settling against the top of her head. Jolene closed her eyes and tried to stop the pounding of her heart. If he wasn’t under the effects of the pill he’d taken, he would no doubt pick up on her reaction to being held by him.
She wriggled until she was in a comfortable position, sliding her arm across his stomach and tucking her hand between his ribs and the mattress. His chest was hard and warm, the light covering of hair soft against her cheek. His undeniable masculinity appealed to every part of her, but she tried to block it out because it felt wrong to lie there wanting him when he was hurting so badly he’d needed a pill just to find a few hours of relief. But if her presence helped even a tiny bit, she’d gladly stay, although it was unlikely she’d get any sleep herself.
His breathing slowed and evened out as sleep came. She listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart, felt the thickly muscled arm like a band around her back. Even through the blankets she could feel his heat against the length of her body, and gradually, ever so gradually, she began to relax. As her eyes got heavy, she fought back a yawn. She hadn’t been sleeping that great herself, and snuggling against Boone felt so good she was tempted to stay. Her own bed seemed so far away, and it was so warm and comfortable here with him.
His invitation hadn’t been for the night, however, and now that he was asleep, it was time for her to go. She lifted her arm away from him, and tried to slide out from under his. But it tightened around her and he gave a soft moan.
“Stay, Jo,” he murmured.
She froze, then let her head fall back to his chest. She’d moved too soon, before he was sleeping soundly enough. Afraid if she roused him again he would wake too far and ruin the effects of the drug, she settled back down, resuming her original position. This time, when her eyes slid shut, she didn’t fight it.
She slept.
***
It was still mostly dark when Jolene awoke, but she could see the pink of the coming sunrise through the large front window of the cabin. She was fully aware of where she was as soon as her eyes opened, because although she was now lying on her right side, Boone’s other arm was draped over her, his big body warm against her back.
She lay there, contemplating what to do. Should she stay put until he woke up? Would he be appalled that she was still there, or glad she’d cared enough to stay?
Knowing Boone as she did, the fiercely independent man who carried his burdens alone, she was inclined to think he’d be a little embarrassed about asking her to stay. So she carefully extricated herself from under his arm, the cool of the cabin an unwelcome change from the warmth of his bed. Thankfully he didn’t stir this time, maintaining his position even though his arms were now empty.
For a long moment Jolene stared down at him, a man so beautiful and so tortured, who hid his cares from the world while doing what he could to help others. He’d hinted about the stuff he was dealing with, but until she’d seen the devastation in his eyes last night, she’d had no idea how deeply it was affecting him. Somehow she had to convince him to let someone past the walls he’d built. Maybe Tuck or Ryan could help. She’d beg Boone to consider it when she had a chance.
She put on her shoes and silently left the cabin, grateful that the hinges on the front door were well oiled and noiseless. She hated to start her car, but his windows were closed, so hopefully the engine wouldn’t wake him.
Back at her house, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Hoping for another hour or two of sleep, because she didn’t have to be at the gym until ten on Sa
turdays, she took off her jeans and socks and slid between her own sheets. She left the jersey on, though, because it smelled like him now. Fresh and clean and male. A scent she knew she’d remember long after he left the Full Heart Ranch.
Thankfully, sleep was not elusive this time, and when she woke up hours later, she felt ready to face the day. And ready to reason with Boone.
* * *
Just before noon a shadow darkened her office door, and Jolene looked up to see him standing there, looking much better than he had the last time she’d seen him. He smiled crookedly and entered the room, sinking into one of the client chairs at the front of her desk and sitting back, his long legs sprawled out in front.
Jolene crossed around to stand in front of him, leaning back against the desk, her hands planted on the top beside her hips.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
“How are you feeling?”
He nodded slowly. “Better.” He chewed on a corner of his lip. “A little worried about what you’re thinking.”
“That should be pretty easy to figure out,” she said, not beating around the bush. “I want you to talk to someone.”
“I know you do.”
“What about Tuck or Ryan? They’re the best guys I know, and if—”
She broke off when he shook his head. “No, Jolene. It can’t be them. Definitely not them.”
“Who then? I’m not going to let this go, Boone. You can’t keep going like this. You feel better right now because you actually got some sleep, but it’s going to catch up with you again. You know it will.”
“I do know that.” He studied her, his eyes grave. “I don’t want to bring you into this, Jo.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll put you in the middle of something that’s a lot bigger than you and me.”
“If I can help, I want you to bring me in.”
His right leg bounced as he stared at her, another sign of the internal stress eating at him.
“Please, Boone. Talk to me.”
He closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising and falling on a long sigh. “You’re gonna regret it.”
“I won’t regret it. I want to help.”
“It’s not fair to put you in this position. I shouldn’t even be considering it, but I don’t know what else to do. There’s no one else I can trust with it.”
“Boone! What can be so bad? Did you murder someone with an axe and bury them in a shallow grave? Sell a hundred pounds of high grade cocaine to school children?”
“Of course not,” he said with a reluctant smile. “This isn’t about anything I’ve done myself.”
“Then whatever it is, we’ll work through it.” She leaned forward and took his head between her hands. “We’ll work through it, so you can move past it and get this hard head of yours straightened around in time for training camp.”
He wrapped his big hands around her slender wrists, his expression resigned. “You are going to regret it,” he said again. “And I’m apologizing in advance for dragging you into my mess.”
“Enough of that. And enough stalling. Tell me, Boone.”
“Not here. Not in the middle of your workday.” He slid his chair back and stood up. “What time will you be home tonight?”
“I’m usually home by four on Saturdays. They have family picnics for everyone on the first Saturday of the retreats, so I head out before that.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay if I come over around five?”
“Sure. I’ll make dinner.”
“Don’t go to any trouble. I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat.” He squeezed her shoulder and walked to the door. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“It’s going to be okay, Boone,” she said.
He stopped in the doorway and turned around. “I don’t know about that,” he said wearily.
Jolene stayed where she was for a long time, her mind whirling, trying to think what in the world could be turning Boone’s world upside down. He was a man who seemingly had it all. A fantastic career. Money to burn. A heart of gold. And above all, Christ was present in that golden heart. What had gone so wrong?
She rubbed her arms, a feeling of foreboding creeping over her in spite of her reassurance that they could work through whatever it was. He seemed so sure she’d regret being his confidante, but why? How could being his listening ear hurt her?
Ugh. She wished she didn’t have to wait another five hours to find out. She wanted to rip off the bandage and move on to the healing stage, now. She wanted the shadows gone from Boone’s eyes. She wanted his head to heal and she wanted to see him tearing up the ice with his team, smiling that devastating victory smile she’d grown to love long before she’d actually met the man.
If being his sounding board could help him get it all back, she would gladly fill that role. And he was wrong. She wouldn’t regret it. How could she?
CHAPTER 14
Jolene didn’t have a lot of time, and Boone had predicted he wouldn’t have much of an appetite, so she kept dinner simple with grilled chicken breasts and Caesar salad. The chicken was keeping warm in the oven and she was grating the parmesan cheese for the salad when the doorbell rang.
Her heart always raced when she knew she was going to see Boone, but it was worse tonight. He seemed so sure that whatever he was going to tell her would be upsetting, and her dread had been growing all afternoon. She’d thought maybe he wouldn’t show up after all, and perhaps a tiny part of her was even hoping for that. Instead, he was right on time.
She opened the door to let him in. He was dressed in faded jeans, a form-fitting black tee shirt, and running shoes. He looked heart-stoppingly handsome, except for the shadows in and under his eyes.
“Hey, Jolene.”
“Hi, Boone,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m really glad to see you. I was wondering all afternoon if you were going to call and cancel on me.”
“I almost did.” He stepped inside and closed the door. “But then I realized I’d be passing up a chance to see you, and that would be pretty crazy.”
“Flattery, Boone?” she asked drily. “Are you trying to distract me from the reason I invited you here?”
He took a step toward her and she saw his chest expand and contract on a sigh. “Nah. I know better than that. But I’m still glad for the chance to spend some time with you.”
Her eyes searched his. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Thanks for staying with me last night, by the way. The drug wore off pretty quick and I woke up around one.” He ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders. “I was glad you were still there. You’re warm and cuddly, and I went right back to sleep. I don’t know what time you left, but I didn’t wake up until seven.”
She hooked her fingers through his belt loops. “Huh. I had no idea I was cuddly.”
“Seriously? No one’s ever told you that?”
“No one would know. You have the dubious pleasure of being the first man I’ve slept with.” She looked up at him and winced self-consciously. “Minus the implications of that statement, of course.”
He slid his hands down her back and drew her closer. “Well, even without the implications, I’m honored to be the first,” he teased.
She blushed and pushed her face against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”
“I’m glad you did. I’m impressed, Jo. I’m sure it hasn’t always been easy to stick to your guns.”
She laughed. “Easier than you might think. There are a lot, and I mean a lot, of highly resistible men in this world.”
He stepped back and tilted her chin up. “Well, since you’ve already admitted you’re at least somewhat attracted to me, I feel special.”
She poked his chest with a finger. “You, Boone, are the opposite of resistible, and you cause me a lot of grief because of that.”
Before he could respond she walked off toward the kitchen. She heard him following and couldn’t help but smile. The light-hea
rted banter had taken a bit of the edge off, and if it helped ease his dread of what was to come, she was okay with the fact that she’d revealed a little more about herself than she normally would.
“So you went ahead and fixed dinner?” he asked when he saw the plates laid out on the bar.
“Just salad and chicken. If you’re not hungry now, I’ll send it home with you for later.” She finished grating the cheese and raised her brows, waiting for his decision.
“Let’s eat,” he said, eyeing the simple fare appreciatively. “It looks perfect.”
Jolene plated the food and poured two glasses of iced tea, then they sat beside each other on the barstools, chatting a bit while they ate. Not about anything serious—that could wait until after the meal.
As they cleaned up the dishes, Jolene felt Boone’s tension returning. She didn’t give him a chance to bail, though. With the dishwasher started, she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the living room, where they both settled onto the couch. She curled her feet under her and faced him.
“Okay, my friend, time to unload,” she said softly. “Tell me what’s been eating you up.”
He stared down at his hands and let out a long breath. “I guess that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”
She studied him, seeing his deep reluctance. And since it wasn’t in her to be hard-nosed and insensitive, she offered him an out. “If you want to change your mind I’ll let you, but only if you promise to seek out someone else to talk to. It doesn’t have to be me, but it has to be someone. You can’t keep it inside anymore.”
He frowned. “The thing is, Jo, I’m not so sure telling you, or anyone else for that matter, is going to help. I mean, it might be nice to finally get everything off my chest and come clean, but I’m going to be faced with the same decisions, regardless. And drawing you into the situation doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, no offense, but holding it all inside doesn’t seem to be working all that well. You almost had a panic attack last night at Tuck’s. So let’s try it my way.”
