Page 9 of The "I Do" Do-Over

Taryn

Idon’t know what I expected to find after I low-key stalked my way to Boone’s current construction site, asking around Heartwood. I suppose I thought I might feel angry when I saw him, or hurt. Hell, even fear would’ve made sense.

But instead, I find him and Everest with their heads bent over a tablet, and my chest and belly flood with liquid, honeyed warmth.

And it feelsgood.

What the fuck?

The pair doesn’t notice me, so I cross my arms across my chest and lean against the door frame, watching. From what I gather, Everest has created some sort of design for Boone and Mountain Builders. That makes sense, I guess, since Everest always was an artsy guy. Boone nods as he looks and listens, tawny hair falling over his forehead.

My fingers twitch, eager to smooth that hair back as his green eyes stare into mine.

What is wrong with me? I came here to divorce Boone, not to catch feelings all over again.

Still, I’m not lying when I say that it’s hot, how decisive he is when choosing the design he likes the most. I do appreciate a man who knows what he wants.

And that’s why I’m here — to give Boone what he wants. An in-person demand of divorce.

The whole way here, I’d felt practically giddy at the prospect of this moment, of whipping out the divorce papers and watching him sign, granting me victory at long last.

I don’t feel giddy anymore.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Am I . . . sad?

I give myself a little shake as Boone slowly rises to his feet. I’m not allowed to feel sad. Not now. Not after all this time.

I did my grieving.

Now I want my freedom.

“Taryn?” he says in a strangled voice, face as white as if he’s seeing a ghost. “What are you doing here?”

Standing to my full height, I reach into the bag slung over my shoulder and withdraw the manila envelope containing our divorce papers. “Exactly what you wanted, Boone.” I will my voice not to shake. “I’m here to make this divorce official.”

“Uh, I’m going to head out.” Everest mutters, gathering up his things and easing out of the office. “It’s good to see you, Taryn,” he says as he passes.

“You too.” I barely manage to reply before he’s gone, marveling at how good he looks. The last time I saw him, back in high school, he’d looked so pale. Now he’s strong and healthy.

My belly twists. How much have I missed by staying away from Heartwood — from Boone?

I didn’t want to revisit my Vegas mistake with him every time I saw him around town, but damn, I love my hometown. And, if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve missed it. Badly.

I shake my head. I’m not here to feel sad, or homesick. I’m here so I can move forward with my life.

Stepping to Boone’s desk, I thrust the manila envelope at him. “Everything we need is in there. You just have to sign.”

He staggers back. “You came all this way . . . for that?”

Exasperated, I toss the envelope on the desk. “Yes, because you made me, Boone. How many times have you had the opportunity to sign before this? I know you’ve been getting my lawyer’s communications.”

He cringes, cheeks growing red with embarrassment.

I’d forgotten how he blushes. It’s as adorable as ever.

Fuck. I need to keep my feelings in check.This is for the tattoo shop, I remind myself, trying to focus on what’s important.

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