by Katie Lane
He’d touched Emma’s breasts before, but only brief fumbles in the front seat of his truck. Now, he took his time, cradling their weight in each hand, feeling their full softness and the rhythmic thump of her heart beneath.
He wanted to touch her nipples. He just didn’t know how. Did he twist them? Pluck them? Pinch them, maybe? He pinched and she flinched. He drew back from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry, Em.”
“It’s okay. Just a little softer. Here.” She pushed his hands out of the way and demonstrated. Emma touching herself was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and he almost came right then and there. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he could follow her lead. Gently he rubbed back and forth over her nipples with his thumbs. She made a soft moaning sound in the back of her throat. He wanted to hear that sound again and again so he rubbed harder and faster. But after only a few seconds, she pulled back and stopped him.
“Slow down, Boone. There’s no hurry.” She slid her hands over his pectoral muscles and brushed her thumbs over his nipples, sending heat ricocheting through him. Then she lowered her head and gently kissed one. He almost passed out as blood flooded to his cock. He had to mentally recite baseball statistics so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. And if he liked it so much, he wondered if she would like it too.
It turned out she did.
And so it went.
As the sun slipped toward the horizon, he and Emma learned about each other’s bodies . . . and their own. They ended up on Emma’s little bed where their kisses grew more heated and their touches less hesitant. As much as his body pushed him to get inside her, he held back and let Emma set the pace. Finally, when he thought for sure he was going to lose it, she took the condom off the nightstand where he’d put it earlier and handed it to him.
He’d worried about knowing how to use it. After only a little trouble opening the package, he slid the condom right on. But sliding inside of Emma proved much more difficult. He couldn’t seem to find the right opening. After a few misguided attempts, she reached between him and repositioned him until he was able to push into her tight heat. It felt so damn good. Better than anything he had ever felt in his life. He wanted to stop and let his desire cool down before he started to move, but his body had other plans. His hips thrust twice before a mind-blowing orgasm shook him to the core. It was amazing . . . until he came down from his sexual haze.
Then it was totally humiliating.
He rested against her body with his breath chugging in and out and felt more embarrassed than he had in his life. “I’m sorry, Em,” he said against her neck. “I’m so sorry.”
She slid her fingers through his hair and tugged until he lifted his head. “For what?”
“I should’ve waited for you.”
A smile slid across her face. “Don’t ever wait for me, Boone Murphy. I’ll always catch up. Dad’s working late doing inventory at the store and my mom has a committee meeting at the church. So we have plenty of time to figure things out.”
They did figure things out. By the time Boone had to leave, he had figured out how to make Emma orgasm. Twice. As he searched for his clothes, he couldn’t help feeling a little proud. He had done it. He had made Emma happy.
And, really, that’s all he’d ever wanted to do.
When they were both dressed, she walked him to the back door. He didn’t want to leave. He never wanted to leave Emma.
At the door, she giggled and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. “Your shirt’s on backwards, Boone Murphy.”
He glanced down and took in the face he had loved all his life. “Because I can’t think straight when you’re near. All I can think about is how your hair shines like gold in the sun. And how your eyes twinkle like stars when you laugh. And how your smile makes my head feel all light and airy. Not in a bad way like I’m going to pass out. But in a good way. Like I sucked up too much oxygen and I’m going to float away on a happy cloud.” He knew he sounded stupid, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth. “You’re my happy cloud, Em.”
She smiled at him. But then her smile faded and she rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly. “I feel the same way. You’re my oxygen, Boone. I can’t breathe without you. And I don’t know how I’m going to survive when you’re at Harvard.”
He didn’t know how he would survive either. Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t accepted the scholarship. “I don’t have to go. I could go to Texas Tech with you.”
She drew back and shook her head. “Oh no, you won’t. Your parents would never forgive me. Neither would mine—or the entire town of Simple. Everyone is so proud of you for getting into one of the best schools in the country. And so am I.” She cupped his face in her hands. “It will be okay, Boone. It’s only four years. And you’ll come back for visits and I’ll fly there to see you and you can show me around campus. Just don’t go fallin’ for any of those Ivy League girls.”
“Not a chance. My heart belongs to a Texas gal.”
“Do I know her?” she teased.
“I think you know her pretty well. Now kiss me, woman, like you mean it.” It was something his father always said to his mother. Emma didn’t disappoint. Her kiss held all the emotions he knew they both felt. One kiss led to another and another and another until they heard a car pull up into the driveway. With one more kiss, he slipped out the back door. “What time do you want me to pick you up for prom Saturday night?”
“Come early. My parents want to get pictures. They invited your parents.”
“Of course they did.” While most kids were annoyed by how smothering their parents could be, Boone had never felt that way. He liked having his parents around. They were pretty much the best parents in the world. Their long friendship with the Johansens had only made Boone’s life better. It was like having two sets of parents. Boone’s father was a total jock who liked throwing around a ball or watching sports, while Michael Johansen was more cerebral. He liked talking about books he’d read and was the best listener if you had a problem. It was the same with the moms. His mom was the protective mama bear who worried every time Boone left the house, while Gina Johansen was much more lenient and realistic. If not for Gina, he’d have spent his entire time in high school on restriction. She had talked his mom out of more than one punishment.
He still didn’t want Gina to catch him sneaking out the back door. He hurried across the lawn, fixing his backwards shirt as he went. When he reached the wall, he turned for one more good-bye. “I love you, Emma Johansen.”
“I love you more,” she whispered back.
He grinned like a goofy dope as he jumped the wall. He lived right across the street from Emma, but he’d lied to his mom and told her that he had to stay late at school to celebrate the championship win with his baseball buddies. He hoped she hadn’t driven by the school to check up on him because, when he got there, the only vehicle left in the parking lot was his old pick up truck.
A locked truck.
In his nervous state about having sex with Emma, he’d left his keys in the ignition . . . and his backpack with his cell phone in the passenger seat.
Normally, he would just jog home and get his father. But his father was out of town at a hardware convention. And his mother wouldn’t know how to jimmy the lock. But Michael Johansen would. And the hardware store was only a couple blocks away.
The store was dark when he got there and he figured he’d missed Michael. But just to be sure, he walked around to the back. Thankfully, Michael’s car was still there. And parked right next to Michael’s sedan was his mother’s minivan.
Boone was surprised. His mother had never liked working at the hardware store. She said it was too much testosterone for her. But maybe she had felt guilty that Michael had to do all the work while Boone’s dad was out of town and decided to come help.
Or maybe she had just been lonely.
Boone felt a pang of guilt.
He knew h
is mom was already sad about him going away to college. With his dad gone, she was probably feeling even sadder.
As Boone pulled open the door and stepped into the back room, he made a promise to himself to make it up to her. Maybe he’d take her to dinner tomorrow night in Abilene. He had been saving money like crazy for college, but he could spare some for the best mom in the world. He stepped around the shelves of inventory, expecting to find his mother and Michael hard at work.
Instead, he found something else entirely.
He froze and blinked, hoping to clear the image in front of him. But the image of his mother locked in Michael’s embrace remained. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. His mom and Michael loved to joke around. But as the passionate kiss continued, Boone realized it wasn’t a joke.
This life-altering moment was real.
With his heart pounding in his ears, he turned and ran out of the store. He didn’t know where he was going, he just ran. Past the pharmacy where his father had first kissed his mother over a strawberry shake at the soda fountain. Past the park where his father had gotten down on one knee in the middle of a freak snowstorm and proposed while his mother cried. Past the Baptist church where the entire town had watched his parents and the Johansens exchange vows to love each other forever.
But Boone now realized that forever was just a word.
Chapter Seven
“You put Tim Ethel on your list?” Boone peeked over Emma’s shoulder at the list she was making on her phone. “I guess you don’t mind marrying a mama’s boy.”
Emma shot him an annoyed look. She’d straightened her short hair today and it fell like smooth corn silk around her face, curving just under her chin. Her lips were tinted a soft peach to match her shirt, and her eye shadow was a light brown that made her sapphire eyes look even bluer. Those eyes snapped with fire. Boone preferred it to the nothing they’d held when he’d returned to Simple four years earlier.
“Would you quit sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” she said. “Like I told you before, I don’t need your help.”
He shrugged. “I’m just trying to keep you from wasting your time. You know Tim still lives with his mother, right?”
“So what? He’s a devoted son.”
“Or a mass murderer like the guy in Psycho. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Tim’s mother in town for a while. But I have seen her sitting in a chair in the upstairs window of their house.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Ha Ha. Very funny. And what about your prospects? When are you going to start dating your gaggle of women?”
Luckily, before he had to answer, the bell on the front door jangled. Emma sent him one more glare before she put her phone back in her purse and headed into the store. She wore the navy skirt that hugged her butt and a new shirt he hoped she wouldn’t wear again. The sheer material showed her bra. He had wasted way too much time that day wondering if it was a front clasp like she’d worn in high school or a back clasp. Even now, he couldn’t help staring at her back looking for hooks as he followed her into the store to greet the customer.
Except it wasn’t a customer. It was Cheyenne Daily. The young girl looked like she was about to bust from happiness. As soon as she saw him, she rushed over and threw her arms around his neck.
“You did it! I can’t believe you talked my daddy into letting me work here. You’re awesome. So, so awesome.”
Boone felt more than a little awkward. He didn’t know how to respond to Cheyenne’s exuberance. He glanced over at Emma for help, but she just stood there with a smirk on her face. He narrowed his eyes at her before he awkwardly patted Cheyenne on the backpack she had slung over her shoulders.
“You’re welcome. We can really use the help.”
She drew back. “And I’m going to help you. I’m going to be the best helper you’ve ever had.”
“Okay . . . well, great.” He stepped back and looked at Emma. “Emma here will show you around the store and go over how the cash register works and what she wants you to start doing today.”
Emma smiled at Cheyenne. “I’m thrilled that your father let you come work for us, Cheyenne. And I would love to show you around. But tonight is my monthly book club and I told Jolene Applegate I’d come over early and help her get ready.” She looked at Boone. “But Boone is . . . awesome. And I’m sure he’ll do a great job of showing you the ropes.” She gave him a little wave as she headed to the back room. “Have fun.”
Boone glanced at Cheyenne. “If you could just give me a minute, Cheyenne. I’ll be right back.” He hurried after Emma and caught up with her by the back door. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
She turned to him. “Are you losing it? I just told you what I’m doing. I’m leaving early.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no. You were the one who wanted to hire Cheyenne. I just said I could talk Cal into letting her do it. I didn’t intend to become her teacher. I won’t be good at it.”
He thought she would have some wisecrack, but instead her eyes turned sad. “Yes, you will, Boone. You taught me how to climb a tree and hit a baseball and do a handstand. You were the best teacher. You’ve just forgotten.” Without another word, she took her purse off the hook and walked out the back door. He stood there trying to fight all the feelings of regret. But he lost. Regret had been his companion for years now.
He turned and headed back into the store.
Cheyenne was bright and eager to learn. As he showed her around, she asked intelligent questions and took notes on a little notepad. In the tool section, she stopped taking notes.
“I know most of the tools,” she said. “I help my dad fix cars on the weekends. And I try to fix as many things around our apartment as I can so he won’t have to. My dad has enough to do.”
Boone was really starting to like this kid. “Your landlord should be fixing everything in your apartment.”
“Mr. Jones is nice, but he’s not real good at fixing things—at least not quickly. I told him about the broken faucet in my bathroom two weeks ago and he still hasn’t come to fix it. I’ve tried, but I’m not so good with plumbing.”
Boone couldn’t help but be annoyed. Jimmy Jones was a good guy, but he spent too much of his time chatting it up with the retired guys at the pharmacy soda fountain instead of taking care of his rental properties.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll stop by on Saturday and see what I can do. I’m pretty good with plumbing.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” Cheyenne said. “But I’d rather you didn’t. It would hurt my daddy’s feelings.”
Boone hadn’t thought of that. She was right. Cal would feel bad if Boone came over to fix his faucet. “Then I’ll teach you how to do it. Just like my daddy taught me. In a couple months, we’ll have you being the best handy girl in the state of Texas.”
Cheyenne smiled shyly. “Woman. I’m almost fifteen.”
“Right. Handy woman. Now let’s get to that cash register.”
It didn’t take Cheyenne long to learn how to use the register. When a customer brought some items to the counter, Boone stood back. “Go ahead and ring them up.”
She stared at him. “Me? But I’m not ready.”
“You’re ready. And I’ll be right here if you need help.”
She hesitated for only a second before she took care of the customer. She had trouble finding the scanner code on the shovel handle, but as she looked, she asked the man how his day was going and distracted him with conversation until she found the code. Once he was headed out the door with his purchases, she turned to Boone and grinned brightly.
“I did it.”
He smiled. “You sure did. I think this calls for a celebratory soda.” But before he could head to the refrigerator in the back room, the phone rang. He usually answered it with “Boone here”—but only because his unprofessionalism annoyed the hell out of Emma. Today, he answered it like he wanted Cheyenne to.
“Simple Hardware. How can I help you?”
“Don’t tell me that Emma finally got you to answer the phone correctly,” his mother said, teasingly.
“Hey, Mom,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Your father and I are leaving in the morning and I want you to come to dinner tonight. I thought you could go through the things in your room you want to keep. I know you’ll want to keep your high school trophies and memorabilia.”
The last thing he wanted to do was to go through his old high school memories. “Actually, I already have plans for dinner. But I’ll stop by later to say goodbye. As for the things in my room, you can get rid of all of it. I don’t want it.”
There was a long pause before she spoke. It was easy to hear the disappointment in her voice. “Oh. Okay. Well . . . I’ll look forward to seeing you later then.”
“Yeah. See you later.” He hung up the phone and noticed Cheyenne was watching him intently. He smiled. “What kind of soda do you want? Or do you want that awful flavored water Emma drinks?”
“Whatever kind of soda you have is fine.” She followed him into the back room and waited while he pulled two Cokes out of the refrigerator. When he handed her one, she popped the tab and took a sip. “So you hate your mom too?”
The question completely blindsided him, and he shook his head in disbelief. “No. Why would say that?”
“It was the tone of your voice when you talked to her. You sounded like me when my mom called last week.” She shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I was wrong.”
“You are wrong,” he said adamantly. “I don’t hate my mom. She’s the best mom in the world.”
The loving type of mom who had made him homemade chicken noodle soup when he was sick and climbed in bed with him when he had a nightmare. The supportive kind who attended every game he’d ever played and yelled the loudest. When he was sad or down, she’d always been able to tease him out of his bad mood . . . until the night he’d discovered her in the arms of Michael Johansen. That night had changed his relationship with his mom forever. While he still loved her, he struggled to completely forgive her.
