She got even closer. He could almost feel her breasts brush his chest, but she still didn’t touch him.
And she lowered her voice.
“I’ve been sitting on this house for almost a year, Boone. The money would come in and go to Angelica. Or Brian. Not this place. My pad is all right, but I don’t live there because I like it. I live there because it’s cheap and I work at Smithie’s because I want this to be my gig. Buying houses, making them beautiful, selling homes. And I need money to make that happen. And now, because of you, I can.”
Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing?
“Is that gratitude, babe?” he asked.
“Yeah, Boone.”
He never in his life thought he’d want to make out with a woman in a dump that smelled of cat piss.
But after she said those two words, after watching her lay out her dream for him, he pulled her into his arms and made out with Ryn in her dump that smelled of cat piss.
When he broke it off, she was plastered to him and neither of them let go.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked.
“No dream is crazy, Ryn. I worry you don’t know what you’re doing, but I reckon before you do it, you’ll figure it out or find someone who can help.”
She nodded.
“And I’m someone who can help.”
He felt her body ease deeper into his, and she smiled.
Good Christ, he wanted to fuck her all the time.
“I’m gonna get back on with demo tomorrow,” she declared.
“I gotta work tomorrow, baby. Take it easy. But the weekend, I’m here. And if I can arrange some time off, I’m here. You cool with that?”
“I didn’t bring you here to ask you—”
“I’m a member of the Extreme Alphas Club, woman. You think I don’t get off on the idea of demoing shit and trimming hedges and grouting tile?”
She started laughing.
“Now as awesome as this is,” he went on, “I really need you to walk me through it showing me what you’re thinking, and do that fast, so we can get outta here before I puke because of the stench.”
“The carpet goes first,” she replied.
“Word,” he agreed.
She started laughing again.
She stopped to tip her head to the side and ask, “Okay, Boone, sheikh’s son?”
He touched his lips to hers, said, “Later,” against them then broke from her, took her hand, and ordered, “Show me where you want the French door.”
She shot him a big smile with bright, shining blue eyes.
And then she showed him where she wanted the French door.
Chapter Nine
Deal
Ryn
My phone ringing woke me.
Strike that.
Hearing Boone mutter a sleepy-gravelly, “Shit,” I knew my phone ringing woke both of us.
I shifted out of the curve of his body when he shifted in order to grab my phone.
By the time I’d turned, got up on an elbow, got a load of tousle-haired Boone in the morning, and dealt with my reaction to that, he’d grabbed my cell and was looking at the screen.
But seeing him there, in my bed, just woken up, and after we’d had a great day yesterday (notwithstanding it starting with a visit from two possibly dirty cops and getting the knowledge a friend of mine had been murdered), I realized I was an anything goes person.
I could be a morning person.
Or I could be a bear in the morning (specifically when someone woke me up early with a phone call after I’d been dancing the night before).
I worked at night, and a lot of the time I was on fire, but that didn’t mean I was a nighttime person. I had to fake it at work some nights when I wasn’t feeling it.
I was getting the sense, however, that if life took me to a place where I woke up next to Boone on a regular basis, I would for sure become a morning person.
I’d wake up every morning, bright as a daisy.
And I’d also be a nighttime person, if I got to fall asleep beside him every night.
This was my thought before he spoke, and I realized maybe I was not correct.
But not because of Boone.
As I was about to find out, it would be because of the usual suspects.
And I found this out when Boone declared, attention on my phone, “I’m not feeling you taking any shit first thing on a Monday morning.”
Before I could say anything—yes, with my cell still ringing in his hand—he carried on.
“In fact, after the last few days you’ve had, I’m not feeling you taking any shit all this week.”
I got my mouth open that time but wasn’t able to use it before he continued.
“Honest to fuck, pretty down with saying, if I have anything to do with it, you now live in a shit-free zone.”
A shit-free zone?
Okay, I was back to being in a good mood.
Because that was sweet, protective and funny.
And I liked all of it.
My phone stopped ringing.
I looked to it. “Who was that?”
“Your not-quite sister-in-law.”
That was a surprise.
And probably not a good one.
“Angelica?” I asked.
Boone didn’t answer because my phone started ringing again.
“Her,” he grunted after glancing at it. Then to me, he asked, “Do you want me to take it?”
For a second, I couldn’t think.
Because, outside my mother, who was often powerless to do what she’d always do if she could stand between me and the shit of life, no one had stood between me and any of the shit of life.
I wasn’t alone.
As I’d noted, I had Mom. Friends. When my brother wasn’t in a booze haze or he wasn’t pissed at me (for no good reason), I had Brian.
But for the most part, I was on my own.
And until that moment, I was down with that.
Mom made me strong.
Life made me strong.
I got on with things as a matter of course.
And I didn’t do too badly at it.
Straight up, if you asked me, I’d tell you I was proud of that part of myself.
Until that moment.
Oh, I was still proud.
But there was something significant, waking up next to Boone, and having him offer to stand between me and something that was sure to be a blow in one form or other.
It was so significant, I couldn’t even speak.
“Ryn,” he prompted when I didn’t answer.
I kinda wanted to see what he’d say to Angelica if he took that call.
But for me, Portia and Jethro were on the line, my position was precarious when it came to them, so I couldn’t test those waters.
“I’ll take it,” I mumbled.
He handed off the phone and I engaged the call.
“Ang?” I answered.
“You need to get over here right now.”
My heart squeezed.
“Is something wrong with one of the kids?” I asked.
Boone leaned closer.
“Yes, something’s wrong,” Angelica announced. “Portia is being a pain in my ass.”
I was so stunned at this announcement, responsible Portia being a pain in anyone’s ass, I sat still and silent and stared at my bedclothes covering Boone’s hips.
“So are you coming?” she demanded.
“I—” I started.
“She says she won’t do anything until her Auntie Ryn shows her face.”
My eyes went to Boone.
He lifted his brows.
“I’m sorry, she won’t—?” I didn’t get any further.
“She won’t brush her teeth. She won’t get dressed. She won’t even get out of bed. She won’t do anything until you show,” Angelica informed me. “So I need you to get over here so the little bitch will get out of bed and get her ass to school.”
Okay.
&nbs
p; All right.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Before I could get to ten, Boone cupped my jaw in his hand, and my focus that had gone hazy with fury fixed on him.
“Ryn,” Angelica bit into my ear. “Are you coming or what?”
“Did you just call your seven-year-old daughter a bitch?” I asked.
The pads of Boone’s fingers flexed into my skin before he dropped his hand.
“She’s acting like a little bitch,” Angelica said.
“Okay, I don’t even know where to start,” I replied.
“I don’t need another lecture from you, Ryn. I just need you to get over here and get her ass to school. I need a break from her attitude which she’s been serving up all weekend.”
Ah.
Light was dawning.
So I said, “Breaking this down, what you’re saying is, failing to be a mother and capable of getting your own daughter out of bed and ready for school is ticking you off because all weekend you’ve been confronted with the fact that you’ve failed to be a mother.”
“Fuck you, Ryn,” she hissed and disconnected.
I closed my eyes and dropped my hand with the phone to my lap.
“I’m seeing I should have taken the call,” Boone said, his voice again gravelly, but there was no sleep in it.
I opened my eyes.
“Portia is refusing to get out of bed until I come over,” I told him.
“In other words, her daughter is missing the mother she’s known since she was born, and Angelica isn’t liking that much.”
“Yeah.”
“And she’s the one who put herself in that situation.”
“Yeah.”
“And instead of handling it, as usual, she’s calling on you even though she’s shit all over you for years.”
I blew out a sigh and then repeated, “Yeah.”
His tone went soft when he said, “Ryn, honey, she’s gotta sort this out herself.”
“Portia needs to go to school.”
“That’s Angelica’s problem.”
At that, I drew in a sharp breath through my nose and held it.
It wasn’t angry or annoyed.
I was trying to fortify myself because he was right.
I had to stand my ground, not just for myself, but for the kids, and in a way, for Angelica too.
I was about to nod when my phone went again.
We both looked down at it and I knew Boone had read the screen because he grunted, “Unh-unh.”
But even if this indicated he was intent to intervene at this juncture, I was who I was.
This was my shit.
So I took the call.
“Brian, listen to—” I began as greeting.
And again, I didn’t get further.
“You’re the one who caused this mess, Ryn,” my brother bit at me. “The least you can do is help during the transition.”
Help during the transition?
What planet were these two living on?
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “I’m done being taken for a ride by you and Angelica. I make that clear. You cut me out of the kids’ lives. And when the kids don’t like that because they love their aunt, you’re not only blaming me for the situation you created, you want me to help straighten it out? When the point is, for all of you, that the kids should not only expect their parents to straighten themselves out, but they deserve that?”
“Why did I know it was a waste of my time, calling you?” Brian asked a question he obviously didn’t want an answer to.
The problem with that was, he was slurring his words.
He either never went to sleep or he was so hammered when he did, he woke up drunk.
“I cannot believe you spread your shit to Mom and Brenda,” he went on.
I did not inform him it was not my shit, but instead, me calling Brian and Angelica out on theirs.
I said, “I’m not talking to you in this state.”
“I’m only in the state you put me in,” he retorted.
“I’m sorry, did I hallucinate working last night? Instead, was I at your place forcing whiskey down your throat?”
“Ryn,” Boone whispered.
I focused on him.
“Hang up the phone, baby,” he went on, just as Brian said, “You’re a piece of fuckin’ work.”
I didn’t hang up the phone.
I told my brother, “I have one hope for you, Brian. One hope for you and your children and even Angelica. And that hope is that one day, you’ll sit in front of me with your sheet of paper, reading it to me about the amends you’re making on your way back to yourself and you don’t feel too much of a total and complete asshole that you’ve treated me this way.”
And yeah.
That was when I hung up.
I also turned off my phone.
Not just the ringer.
The phone.
I wanted to throw it across the room.
I also wanted to leap out of the bed and scream at the top of my lungs.
Not to mention, leap out of bed, put on clothes and haul my ass to Angelica’s to look after Portia and Jethro.
I didn’t do any of that.
I just stared at the black screen of my phone, unable to do anything at all to cope with the overwhelming helplessness I was feeling about people who I loved who were fucked up so huge, in that moment, there was no way to unfuck them.
And how much all of that hurt.
“Ryn.”
I continued to stare at my phone.
“Kathryn, sweetheart, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to Boone’s.
“So, yeah, I’m that girl you give a shot who’s got so much baggage and shit dragging down on her life, you not only wonder what the hell was wrong with you that you gave it a shot, you contemplate moving to another state to escape her and all her garbage.”
“Not even close,” he said gently.
Man, was he this good of a guy?
“They’re blaming me for all of this,” I told him.
“Of course they are, sweetheart,” he replied. “It’s their MO. They don’t do responsibility.”
He got that right.
“Portia’s a good kid,” I told him. “She looks after her brother. She’s not the kind of kid to throw a tantrum. I just…it freaks me out, Boone, to think what’s happening over there that she’d have this extreme of a reaction to me not being around.”
“Maybe you should call your mom,” he suggested.
“And drag her into this mess?” I asked.
“It’s your call, but she might know what’s going down, if she doesn’t, she might want to know what’s going down or she might need to know, in case they blindside her when they call her to help out.”
“One thing I know is going down is that Brenda didn’t look after the kids this weekend after Angelica tried to pull a fast one. Angelica’s been with them all weekend. And obviously, that didn’t go too good.”
“It’s not your problem, Ryn.”
“They’re my niece and nephew.”
He took my jaw in both hands and put his face in mine. “It sucks. It’s hard. I don’t understand how hard it is, but I get that it’s hard. It’s still not your problem. As hard as it might be on those kids, they have to learn how to be a family, however that comes about, and they can’t do that if you pick up the slack for them financially, emotionally and with your time.”
And another sharp shot of air went up my nose.
“Do you think they’re in danger?” he asked.
That thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
At least not in the conventional sense of the word “danger.”
“No,” I answered. “Angelica loves them. Brian adores them. But neglect is neglect, Boone.”
“And that’s what you’re trying to put a stop to, am I right?”
Shit.
He was right.
And I couldn’t put a stop
to it if I came running anytime Angelica called and conned, cajoled or threw a tantrum to get me to play her role when she wasn’t feeling like playing it.
That wasn’t being a mother.
She’d started out as young mom, true.
But she didn’t have that excuse anymore.
She had to learn and me doing it for her wasn’t helping.
I knew that Boone knew I’d come to this conclusion when he touched his forehead to mine briefly before he pulled away and dropped his hands from my jaw.
He was right about something else, of course. Mom should know, if only because she would eventually be up to bat to deal with this situation, if one or the other of them hadn’t already called her to go and deal with the situation.
“I’m gonna call Mom,” I muttered.
“Right, I’ll go make coffee,” Boone replied.
I hit the button to turn on my phone, Boone gave me a kiss that didn’t last very long (sadly), then he got out of bed.
I did not watch my phone boot up.
I watched Boone’s ass in his boxer briefs as he left the room.
Fortunately, I had no voicemails or missed calls in the minutes my phone had been shut down.
Unfortunately, my call to Mom was disconnected before pickup or voicemail, which meant she’d declined it.
And that meant she was on the phone with someone else.
I knew who.
I was out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth when my cell rang in my hand.
Mom.
I took the call. “Hey.”
“This isn’t your issue, Kathryn, and it isn’t mine. Brenda will do what she’s gotta do, though I can inform you, she’s far from happy about how Angelica’s been behaving. If she’ll cave, we’ll see. She’s done it in the past. But we’re a united front, do you understand me?”
“Seems like you had the same wakeup call as I did,” I remarked, walking into my tiny bathroom.
“We should have come up with a strategy,” she stated. “Though I wouldn’t have thought Portia would act out.”
And yet another sharp breath went up my nose.
Mom heard it.
“Careful of that, sugarsnap, you’ll get lightheaded,” Mom cautioned quietly.
She’d know.
It was a thing of mine. That sharp breath that usually preceded me holding my breath in order to control something when life got out of control.
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