Page 27 of The Run Home
Boon climbed to his feet and pulled me up with him, our hands still tangled together. It felt weird. Amazing. Like I might throw up from nerves alone. He let go and stooped again, grabbing my book from earlier and trying to straighten out the pages before handing it over.
“I’ll ask her tomorrow morning to hang with me.”
I nodded, hoping my advice would work. “Keep at it. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
He stared at me, not breaking eye contact for a very long time. Longer than was strictly polite between neighbors. Coworkers? Friends?
“Good night, Shae.”
And then he was off my porch and walking into the darkness between our properties, taking all the available oxygen with him.
Had we just ended the day without fighting?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Boon
“What isthis and what have you done with my son, Boon?”
Mom was fuckin’ hilarious. A real comedian. She had a robe cinched tightly around her waist and a pair of reading glasses on her face with another pair jammed on top of her unbrushed hair.
I scooted out her chair at the dining table and she sat down, still looking at me like I’d grown a second head, probably just as gorgeous as my first one. What can I say? I was gifted with a beautiful face. The muffin and coffee waiting for her from the shop downtown was still warm if she’d stop gaping at me and eat.
“I just took a page out of Colson’s book. I mean, he successfully conned a woman who divorced his ass and dated Hollywood celebs into marrying him. Figured I could learn a thing or two about women from the guy.”
I sank into my own seat and devoured half my breakfast burrito in one bite. Mom sipped her coffee, beginning to rock side to side like she did when she tasted something particularlydelicious. She was a sucker for caramel lattes, and Crazy Beans roasted the very best espresso.
The clunk of Kinsley’s boots down the stairs caught my attention and I hurried to swallow my bite. She rounded the corner, looking half asleep and eyeing the two of us like we were the worst type of criminal for making her get out of bed before ten on a Sunday morning. I saw the moment her gaze flickered over to the white pastry bag and extra-large mocha with whipping cream I’d gotten for her.
“Is that…”
I couldn’t help the smug smile. I’d overheard her and that blonde girl chatting at lifting the other day. They’d been gushing over the Crazy Beans blueberry muffins, topped with some kind of brown sugar strudel. Kinsley had said they were her favorite. I’d made a mental note, but forgot about it until Shae told me to do something Kinsley would like. She’d agreed to go to the mall with me and get some new clothes, but I figured sweetening the deal—literally—would go a long way toward mending our relationship.
Kinsley plunked down in a chair and inhaled the muffin, only coming up for air to sip her mocha. When we were all done, I gathered our trash.
“Ready to buy some clothes, Tink?” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
Shopping was stupid. I actually hated it, which is why when I lived in Dallas, I’d hired a personal shopper who knew my tastes and regularly delivered new articles of clothing to my condo and billed my card. No dressing rooms required.
“And some makeup,” Kinsley threw in there, eyeing me carefully, probably trying to see what she could get away with on this shopping trip of ours. The fact that she didn’t find offense to the use of her nickname showed how much she was working me. And I was willing to be worked.
“Only if we can get a shit ton of those pretzel things they have at the mall,” I responded.
“I’m in!” Kinsley got up and grabbed her wallet off the side table by the front door.
I gave Mom a look that said I was the shit. My daughter was not only talking to me, she seemed enthusiastic about this little shopping trip. Mom headed for the kitchen, leaning in to pat my shoulder.
“Good luck, son,” she whispered.
I tried not to take that ominously and grabbed my truck keys. “Let’s see if my credit card really is limitless.”
Kinsley cheered and didn’t even scowl as we got in my truck and headed two towns over where the bigger shopping mall was located. When we arrived, she instructed me to park near the side entrance by the makeup store. I had to hustle to keep up with her as we climbed out of the truck. The girl had grown so much the last few years, her legs nearly as long as mine.
The second we stepped into the store, I visibly cringed. Fragrance assaulted my nose, causing an instant headache. Women of every size, color, and shape packed the aisles, oohing and aahing over color palettes and tubes of shit they intended to slather on their faces. The overhead lights were brighter than stadium lights. Kinsley grabbed my hand and dragged me to an aisle with thirty thousand tubes of the same crap, each a slightly different color than the rest.
“I have to get one of these skin tints! They’re huge right now. Which shade do you think would be best for me?” she asked, rattling on about the ingredients, blending techniques, and if she’d still need bronzer and a highlighter. Considering I didn’t know what any of this was, I couldn’t answer her.
“Um, yes to all of it?”
