Page 13 of Boston
“Yes?” he asked. “Did you need something, ma’am?”
Momma beamed up at him. “Yes, Boston.” She didn’t look at Cora, and it felt deliberate.
Her heartbeat pounded dangerously in her chest. “Momma, I already asked him to show me the ropes.”
Her mother swung her gaze to Cora then. She studied her with interest, her gaze becoming more and more calculated.
“I don’t need you to do more than you’ve done,” Cora said, her defenses flying into place. Who knew what Momma might say next? Cora didn’t want to hear it; she didn’t want Boston to know the extent of her ineptitude.
“He’s going to help me,” she said, shooting Boston a look that she couldn’t quite stick. “Right?”
Momma turned back to Boston too, and he nodded a couple of times, his jaw set in pure determination. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, good,” Momma said. “I’m glad that’s settled.” She spoke like she’d orchestrated the whole thing, and Cora turned away from the conversation, half-wishing she could get on a plane and head back to Miami.
Then Boston said, “Cora, could you come help me with these roasters?” and Cora had a third thing that would stick with her for a long time: the way Boston said her name with such tenderness and care.
“Of course.” She got to her feet and strode after him, wondering what in the world the cowboy really needed help with, because it surely wasn’t the roasting sticks.
CHAPTER
FIVE
“So then I had her come over to help me with the roasters, which was so stupid, because I’d already extended all of them.” Boston paced in his studio apartment, not even pausing under the kitchen duct that blew the cold air the hardest. “And that’s when I gave her my phone number.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
“It’sinsanity,” Boston said to Cash. “Why would she think I know anything?”
“Because you’re amazing,” Cash said in his usual slow, calm voice. “She clearly saw it.”
Boston scoffed. “I was the first person she met is what you mean.”
“That’s not it,” Cash said. “Ask yourself this, brother: Whynotyou?”
Boston blew out his breath. “Because I’ve been here for four months? Because she has a brother-in-law who’s worked here for years? Heck, Jeremy’s come up with half the things we do here.”
“Yes, but he doesn’texecutethem,” Cash said. “He’s management. You’re boots on the ground. She needs to know the intricacies before she can manage them.”
“Maybe.” But what Cash said made sense. He breathed in and out again and sank onto the edge of his love seat. “When are you coming home?”
“After Tulsa,” Cash said, his voice suddenly more guarded.
Boston considered asking him why, but he wasn’t sure Cash was ready to say why. If they stood face-to-face in the same room, Boston would be able to read him better. He’d inherited his father’s dark looks, something all the rodeo journalists never ceased to point out.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Cash sighed too, as if he’d been waiting for the question. “Not really,” he said. “What I want is to come stay with you for a couple of nights when I first get there. Is that doable?”
“If you don’t mind sleeping on an air mattress.”
“I don’t,” Cash said. “The rental I got isn’t available until the third, so it’ll literally be two nights.”
“You’re not staying with your folks?” Surprised colored his question and streamed through him.
“No,” Cash said. “My daddy’s eyes are too much for me right now.”
That spoke volumes, and Boston found himself nodding. “You’re welcome here anytime.”
