Boone

by Emily March

  Boone watched the demonstration attentively, but even as he absorbed the information he needed to care for his daughter properly, his awareness of Hannah continued to hum through his veins.

  This woman did it for him. He thought he was falling for her. That was a crazy idea. He’d known her little more than a week. He didn’t fall for women in a week’s time. He didn’t fall for women, period. Not since Mary, anyway, and that process had taken months.

  However, he and Hannah had done a lot of living in the past week, sharing big, intense life moments that taught each of them a lot about the other. Standing here watching Hannah bathe his baby, Boone felt like he knew her better than he had known his wife the day they’d married.

  The thought stayed with him as Hannah finished the bath, then oversaw Boone’s attempt at drying, diapering, and dressing. The swaddle sack thing didn’t impress him. It seemed cruel to put a baby in a straitjacket, but Hannah assured him that Brianna would be happier and sleep better in it.

  “Okay, then. You’re ready for the bottle and bed.” She turned toward the door, saying, “I’ll let myself out. See you around, McBride.”

  “Wait. Hannah, please, one more thing.”

  “Is it always one more thing with you?”

  “I’m thirsty, and I need something to drink. Plus, I’d like to find my phone before I sit down to feed her and rock her to sleep. Knowing my luck, I’ll get her almost asleep, and the phone will ring and I’ll wake her up while I’m trying to find it. Tomorrow night, I’ll make sure I have myself squared away before I start the bath. Please? I just need a few more minutes.”

  Hannah gave him a narrow-eyed glare, but she lifted the bottle from the warmer and carried it and Brianna over to the rocker. Wishing to avoid the possibility of Hannah changing her mind, Boone didn’t dawdle.

  He tracked down his phone and slipped it into his pocket, drank a tall glass of water, then, because being a father didn’t make him less a man, he decided a nightcap was in order. He took two snifters from his bar cabinet, poured in generous splashes of his favorite cognac, and carried the glasses to the nursery. His steps slowed as he heard Hannah singing a lullaby to Brianna.

  She had a sexy voice, a Norah Jones, whiskey-in-a-dark-nightclub sound that skidded across Boone’s nerves. He stood in the hallway just out of sight and waited for her to finish the song about a mockingbird that he recognized as one his cousin Jackson used to sing to his baby daughter.

  Jackson, a renowned singer-songwriter, would like Hannah’s voice. Bet he could write a song that suited her. Propelled by a sudden urge, Boone set down the drinks, turned, and quickly made his way to the staircase, headed for the entertainment room on the second floor. Three minutes later, he was back with his acoustic guitar. The three McBride cousins had passed many hours picking out songs on guitars. Jackson could play rings around Boone and Tucker, but Boone wasn’t exactly a slouch. He could hold his own making music with Hannah Dupree.

  Hannah had finished the mockingbird song and was now singing the first verse of “Baby Mine.” Boone knew this one because Jackson had sung it to Haley too. Boone joined her at the chorus, moving to stand in the doorway and lean against the jamb as he played.

  Bree had finished her bottle, and she lay against Hannah’s shoulder as Hannah patted her back. Hannah’s voice skipped a few beats while Boone continued to play, and he wondered if she would stop singing. She did not, but finished the song and moved on to another, a beautiful, haunting Irish lullaby.

  By the time she finished that song, tears were rolling down Hannah’s face. Oh, sweetheart. Boone felt confident that she’d been thinking about her girls. Regret washed over him. She’d told him that being around the baby would be painful for her.

  He’d been damned insensitive leaning on her this way. It was torture for her. He should have realized it. Damn, he’d been selfish and blind to her pain. Shame on me.

  When the last notes of the final chorus faded away, she didn’t start another song. Boone set his guitar aside as she rose from the rocker, carried Brianna to her crib, and lay her down. Then, staring at the sleeping child, Hannah swiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks.

  Boone placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered, “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m a jerk. I didn’t listen—”

  She turned and placed her fingers against his lips, silently shushing him. Then she jerked her head toward the door, gesturing that they should leave.

  He stepped aside and motioned for her to proceed, and then, after blowing Brianna a silent good-night kiss, followed Hannah from the room, exiting just in time to see her pick up one of the cognac glasses from the hall table. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see her sail right out the door with her drink. Instead, she halted in front of the fireplace in the great room, threw back her drink like it was the cheapest of rotgut whiskey, set her glass on the mantel, and turned to face him.

  Pain and pique and a hint of wildness swam in her eyes as she lifted her chin and declared, “For the past three years, I’ve existed. I haven’t lived. Life is a gift, and it is a crime to waste even a second of it. I want to live again. I need to live again. Will you help me?”

  “Of course. How would you like me to help? What can I do?”

  “Make love to me, Boone McBride. I want you to make love to me. Now. Tonight.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hannah’s heart thudded. Her nerves fluttered. Her breaths came in shallow pants.

  She’d obviously shocked him. She could see it in his eyes and in the fact that he almost dropped his drink.

  She was more than a little shocked herself. She didn’t sleep with men she’d known for barely two weeks. She hadn’t slept with a man to whom she wasn’t married or engaged to be married in a decade. But she wanted Boone McBride. She wanted him rather desperately.

  And unless she was positively clueless, he wanted her too.

  So why was he just standing there? Why didn’t he say something? Do something? Yes, heat had flared in his eyes, turning them to molten silver, but his feet hadn’t moved. He hadn’t said a word.

  When he finally moved, all he did was lift his snifter to his mouth.

  Hannah almost, almost, bared her teeth and growled at him.

  After about a million years, he spoke. “I want to make love to you right now more than I want to breathe.”

  Whew. Okay, so she hadn’t misread him. However, there was a but coming. She could tell.

  “But.”

  I knew it.

  “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  Take advantage of me, please!

  “This seems like a spur-of-the-moment decision and somewhat out of character for you, Hannah.”

  “That’s the point! I want to change my character. My current character has no color. I have no color. I’m so over black, and gray is not much better. I shouldn’t be afraid to hold a baby, Boone. One of life’s most precious moments is rocking a newborn baby.”

  “Celeste said something similar to me not too long ago.”

  “She’s right!”

  “She’s always right.”

  “What does she say about sex?”

  Boone physically took a step back. “Um, that we haven’t discussed.”

  “Well, as someone who has gone without it for longer than I care to contemplate, I can assure you that sex—well, good sex, anyway—is another one of life’s precious moments. I’m confident that sex with you would be good.”

  “I, uh, haven’t had any complaints.”

  “I’m not ready to be a mother or a wife again, but I want to be able to cuddle and love on a little one and go to bed with a man again. I like you, Boone. I’m hot for you. I want to live! Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Damn skippy, I am.”

  Her breath hitched at the heat that blazed in his eyes. Setting down his drink, he crossed the room, prowling like a panther. Hannah shivered. A part of her—the dull, gray part—couldn’t believe she was doing this, but
the color sizzling through her veins right now was red—bright passionate red.

  Then Boone placed his hands on her hips and tugged her against him and his obvious erection, and his mouth swooped down toward hers.

  And because life was all about timing, and Hannah’s timing was invariably bad, Brianna wailed.

  Boone groaned.

  Hannah moaned.

  It was the sound of parents everywhere.

  “This is so much my luck,” Hannah muttered.

  Boone kissed her forehead rather than her mouth. “I think this is probably a good thing.”

  “You’ve changed your mind.”

  “Not at all. I’m totally on board with doing my part in welcoming you back to life. It’s gonna be my pleasure. But I think you and I will both enjoy the process more if we do this the right way.”

  From the nursery came, “Waaa! Waaaa! Waaa!”

  “With a babysitter?” Hannah asked.

  “Absolutely. And a little romance. Romance is another one of life’s gifts. Let me romance you into my bedroom, Hannah. Let’s do this the right way. I want to give you romance.” He kissed her briefly on the mouth and added, “In addition to a mind-blowing orgasm.”

  She might have whimpered just a little bit before saying, “You’d better go tend to your baby.”

  “Yeah.” He stepped away.

  “I’m going home.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hannah?” Boone said, just before disappearing down the hallway. “Be prepared to be romanced.”

  She floated all the way home.

  * * *

  He sent her flowers the next day, a big, beautiful mixed bouquet in a rainbow of brilliant colors that made her smile. The enclosed card invited her to join him for a dinnertime picnic cruise on the lake. They had a lovely time, but they didn’t have sex. He left her with a kiss at Serenity Cabbage’s front door at eight fifty-five, using every minute of Nic Callahan’s turn at babysitting.

  The day after that he sent her a cookie bouquet from Fresh and invited her to go running with him and Bree around the lake. His jogging stroller was sweet, the baby dressed in a little running suit and adorable, but that was the only exercise Hannah got. On the third day following their return to Eternity Springs, she didn’t see him because she spent the day playing tourist at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Day four, they had a lunch date scheduled at the Mocha Moose Coffee Shop, so the knock at her door shortly after dawn was totally unexpected.

  “Hannah, it’s me,” Boone’s voice called. “Hannah, wake up. I need help!”

  She raced toward the door, flung it open, and clapped her hand over her mouth at first sight of Boone. His shoulders drooped. His eyes were red with exhaustion. His dark hair stood straight up in places where it appeared he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it. In one arm, he held Brianna.

  The other held a dog, a precious little red long-haired puppy.

  “I’m begging you. I’m desperate. Take one or the other? I don’t care which. They’ve both been fed. I need half an hour. Shoot, just twenty lousy minutes will do. I was already running low on shut-eye. New baby, that’s the deal, I get it. But I didn’t factor in a baby when I agreed to take a puppy. I haven’t slept for more than ten minutes all night. I need a little nap. Please, Hannah?”

  “Wait a minute.” She held up her hand, palm out. “You got a baby and a puppy? In the same week?”

  “I told you about the pup. Remember up at Lover’s Leap the day we met? I was trying to come up with a name.”

  “Yes, I remember. However, you also told me you were talking about a dog, but speaking about a baby that day. Trace Parker McBride.”

  “Yes, I was. But you suggested a great dog name. Ranger. This is Ranger. Will you take him, Hannah? Please?”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. And here I thought you were an intelligent man.”

  He smiled sheepishly and held up both the pup and the baby.

  Hannah surrendered. “Come in. Let me put some clothes on.”

  “I’d make a suggestive comment, but I’m too tired.” He slumped into a chair with a mewling baby and a whining puppy. He was asleep by the time Hannah finished dressing.

  She roused him, sent him staggering into her room, and then took both the dog and the infant and left. “This is not how I imagined having Boone in my bed,” she muttered she shut the door to Serenity Cabbage a few minutes later and headed for his home.

  He’d left the door standing wide open, not a surprise since he’d had his hands full, but still, Hannah shook her head at this uncharacteristic carelessness. What was he thinking? Adopting a puppy and a newborn in the same week?

  She shouldn’t be surprised, however. Judging by what she’d seen of him and what his friends and family said about him, once Boone McBride decided to do something, there was no stopping him or changing his mind. He kept his word and his commitments, which was a very attractive quality in a man.

  And yet, a puppy and a baby?

  He’d looked adorably pathetic standing at her doorway this morning. Guess crazy could be attractive too.

  His half an hour of sleep stretched to over two hours, but Hannah didn’t mind. She’d had no firm plans for the morning, and truth be told, she was enjoying herself.

  She’d put Brianna down for a nap, and then played with the puppy and a knotted rope. He was a sweet little guy, playful and affectionate, and eager to please. “Look at those big brown eyes. Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”

  His coat was a darker, chestnut color. She wondered if it would change to the mahogany red she associated with Irish setters, or if this was the color he’d keep. “Either way, I’ll bet you’ll be a handsome fella when you’re grown. You’ll be all elegant and regal, and the center of attention wherever you go.”

  She’d seen that with the pair of Irish setters her lake house neighbors took walking every day. The rambunctious redheads literally stopped traffic. They were friendly dogs and took all the adulation as their due. Hannah pulled another toy from the basket and tossed it to him. Ranger pounced, the rubber mouse squeaked, and a hummingbird buzzed by on the way to the feeder hanging from a post.

  Hannah sat back in her chair, content. There were worse places and ways to spend a summer morning. Hannah loved dogs, and from childhood on, her family almost always included a pound puppy of one sort or another. They’d lost a little mixed-breed terrier shortly before the accident.

  She’d sometimes wondered if having a dog to come home to after the girls died would have changed anything. Maybe a pet would have anchored her. Maybe she wouldn’t have run away from home. Or maybe she’d have given the dog away.

  Certainly she could not have wandered the world in the way that she’d done for three years. But maybe, just maybe, her wandering days now were drawing to a close. She cuddled Ranger against her and rubbed his long floppy ears. “Maybe someday in the not-too-distant future, I can have a cute little puppy like you. Good boy. Aren’t you a good, beautiful boy?”

  They played a few more minutes, then Ranger climbed onto one of the half dozen dog beds positioned around the house, circled three times, lay down, and went to sleep. With both her charges down, Hannah made coffee and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge for breakfast. She tidied up the kitchen and family room—Boone’s sleepless night had resulted in a mess—and then she chose a John Sandford novel from one of Boone’s bookshelves and took it and a cup of coffee onto the deck.

  It was a beautiful summer morning. Sunshine sparkled like diamonds on the surface of the lake, and songbirds filled the air with music. The scent of woodsmoke drifted from the direction of Brick Callahan’s campground. Eternity Springs billed itself as “A little piece of heaven in the Colorado Rockies,” and Hannah figured they had it right.

  Here at this moment, she felt like she’d stumbled into paradise. Metaphorically, she’d died beside Lake Winnipesaukee and wandered around in hell for three years, but now she was poi
sed for a rebirth. Reincarnation, Eternity Springs style.

  And maybe a dog.

  Hannah chuckled softly at the whimsical direction of her thoughts just as sounds of stirring in the nursery emitted from the baby monitor. She set aside the novel and went to tend Boone’s child. A diaper change later with nine AM fast approaching and Boone nowhere in sight, she settled into a porch rocker with Bree and a bottle. “I do wonder who will show up first?” she said to Bree as the hungry baby latched onto the nipple. “Daddy or today’s nanny?”

  She’d checked the schedule Boone had posted on his refrigerator. When Ranger lifted his head from his pillow and pricked his ears, she told him, “I think I’ll put my money on Sarah Murphy.”

  Hannah won the bet. At nine on the dot, a red Jeep sporting the Fresh Bakery logo on the side pulled into Boone’s drive. Sarah exited the vehicle carrying a bakery box. Petite with dark hair worn short, she had eyes that were a similar blue to Hannah’s. This morning, they sparkled. “Hello, Hannah. Don’t you make a pretty picture sitting on Boone’s porch with a baby in your lap? But I’m wondering, did I look at the schedule wrong? Is today not my day for day care?”

  Hannah smiled and shifted Bree to her shoulder to be burped. “You’re not wrong. Not about today being your babysitting day, anyway. The pretty comment, I don’t believe. I didn’t even take time to comb my hair this morning, and my socks don’t match.”

  She extended her sneaker-clad feet to display the truth of her claim, then summarized the situation for Sarah, who shook her head. “I knew that he’d claimed one of the pups and that they were ready to leave their mama. I never put that event together with Brianna’s arrival. Oh, wow. Well, better him than me. These are going to be an eventful few weeks, aren’t they?”

  “I suspect so.”

  Bree let out a big burp that had both women exchanging a smile. Hannah rose from the rocker, saying, “This is probably the best time to conduct a handoff. She’ll likely finish off her bottle now.”