Page 43 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

“No. That is counter to my objective. Which is to not think about you. And definitely not to fall asleep with you on my mind.”

He was a little tipsy. And she didn’t usually find that kind of thing sexy. But here she was. She had a feeling she would find Boone’s hangnail sexy. And that was a whole other kind of problem she’d never had before.

“In the house.”

“I don’t take orders.”

“Why not?”

He grinned, and she found herself suddenly pressed up against the side of the house. “Because I like to give them.”

Arousal crashed through her body. Yeah. She would really like to take orders from him. Though, that wasn’t supposed to be what was happening tonight.

“And tomorrow afternoon when you’re sober, and you come in for your lunch break, you’re welcome to tell me everything your heart desires. But right now, I’m telling you to go in the house so I can make you some tea.”

“I think you’d have more fun if you got down on your knees.”

“For sure,” she said, breathless with the desire that thought infused in her. “But sometimes you can’t get what you want.”

“I’m well familiar.”

“Inside.”

And this time, he obeyed her.

So there was that.

She found an electric kettle—which was surprisingly civilized of him, she thought—and plugged it in, flicking on the switch to start up the hot water.

“I appreciate that you got a cab. I feel like sometimes you guys are not so great with the designated-driver thing.”

“You guys?”

“You rodeo cowboys,” she said.

“Yeah well.” He cleared his throat, his expression going stoic. “My older brother was in a drunk driving accident. He wasn’t driving. But they were a bunch of boys that had gone out camping and drinking and... Anyway. He was the only one that survived. After something like that you take the whole thing pretty seriously.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Boone, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. Nobody knows Buck. Because he took off so long ago. It really screwed him up.”

There was something raw and unspoken in his words. A truth buried there she couldn’t quite figure out. And he wasn’t going to tell her. Not willingly. Not right now.

And that was okay. Because that wasn’t supposed to be the point of this. But now she couldn’t stop imagining the catastrophe, and the way it must have hurt everyone.

“Was he injured?”

Boone nodded. “Yeah. He was okay, though. I mean physically. But it’s a small town. And people will define you by something like that. And everyone will know. You can’t outrun it unless you leave. I know that.”

“It must’ve been hard. Having him leave.”

“Plenty of families don’t live in each other’s pockets.”

“Yes. That is true. But I expect it feels different when somebody leaves because of something like that.”

“I guess. Were you close to your mom?”

“Yes. Until she died. She died when I was eighteen. And then after that, I met Daniel. I expect I was looking for a connection.”

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