A Perfect Mistake

by Zoe Dawson

  I walked to the kitchen, thoroughly confused. Boone was getting me turned around all over again, but I also couldn’t ignore the layers of hurt, then pain, then agony, then frustration. I was second-guessing myself all over the place.

  At the fridge I pulled the door open and reached inside. “Two, please,” he said. He took one and downed it again all at once. I shook out a couple of tablets, and his hot fingers brushed against my palm to take them.

  He downed both the pills and the second bottle of water.

  He looked over his shoulder to see where my momma was. She was engrossed in pouring over Boone’s boards. Then stepped closer to me, his voice low and raspy. “Then what was that slap for?”

  “You were being a jerk.”

  “I called you a liar. I think that was the truth.”

  “Maybe, but you were still being a jerk.”

  He hissed and rubbed at his head, closing his eyes in exasperation.

  “I was being a jerk because you were being evasive. Why can’t you just….”

  “Boone? These are amazing,” my momma said from the dining room.

  I took that opportunity to slip out of the kitchen. Maybe it really was time to clarify once and for all what had happened between us. Maybe I had been wrong to think I could get away from this all unscathed. I had scars on my scars. What were a few more? If I was being completely honest with myself, I owed Boone that much. He was blissfully unaware of everything. That really wasn’t fair to him or to me.

  Hell. I’d already kissed him again, and that was what got me in trouble in the first place. I don’t know why, but I suddenly knew that we needed to clear this up.

  I’d been so angry for so long and, seriously, I was so over it.

  I could see why my daddy preached about forgiveness.

  It was a relief to even think about unburdening myself.

  Chapter Four

  Boone

  Fuck. My dick was so hard. Fucking wood in front of Verity’s mother. A freaking preacher’s wife, for chrissake. I’d followed Verity out of the kitchen into the dining room where her ma was pouring over my boards.

  I could only pray that Mrs. Fairchild didn’t notice. I was so hot. The three bottles of water I had downed didn’t even touch the heat that seemed to radiate off me like I was the burning core of the sun.

  I could thank Verity for that.

  Cryptic little peach pit.

  Verity was like a hot goad next to me. She sure didn’t kiss like a virgin, which pissed me off. I didn’t like it that someone had taught her to kiss like that. And the way she had moved her hand over my skin, delved into my hair like I was the most wonderful thing she’d ever touched...

  Geezus. A guy could get used to that.

  And, I couldn’t help but compare that kiss to the forgettable kiss I’d shared with Marcy last night. There was no comparison. All I wanted to do was get her away from here and…yeah…I must be outta my mind. I wanted to talk to her.

  Even my dick went…WTF!

  I shifted my shoulders and my bare arm brushed against Verity. I noticed that she didn’t move away.

  I wondered if she was conducting more fucking research.

  Like how to tease and taunt a man in ten easy fucking steps.

  Geezus.

  It was all I could do to stand there and have Mrs. Fairchild gush all over me about the sketches. Women were sure passionate about their flowers, but my guess was that a lot of the beauty in the world came from women. I know my ma sure was one beautiful lady.

  Man that was a detour into a tangent. My head felt fuzzy for a minute.

  I wanted to groan as my cell chimed. I pulled it out of my pocket, and when I saw it was Booker again, and that I had already missed two calls from him this morning, I knew I was going to have to talk fast when I called him back.

  My brothers were going to kill me.

  They were going to fucking kill me and then lecture me and read me the riot act.

  I didn’t give a damn. Really, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. Except nothing was settled right now. She hadn’t answered me about going out with me. This was between me and Verity, and I was damn sure going to find out what was going on with her.

  That tough, silky, curvy, hot peach pit.

  It might just fucking kill me.

  The preacher’s daughter knew how to take a man down with just a kiss. I couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine how she would be….geezus, was I a moron? Wood alert. In front of Verity’s mother, like I was the village idiot.

  Finally she stopped gushing, and I felt kinda dizzy for a minute. I was wondering if it had to do with all the testosterone zinging through my blood.

  “I’ve got to help Boone with the gazebo, Momma, and I promised to give Lindsay a hand with the kids this morning.”

  Her mother nodded and I gathered up my boards. Kee-rist, didn’t these people believe in air conditioning their house?

  With the boards under my arm, I followed Verity out onto the porch. My headache tightened against my skull as the June heat blasted us, and I wobbled slightly, putting my hand out to steady myself against the frame.

  Verity didn’t notice, and I trailed behind her across the church grounds, stopping briefly at my truck to set all but the gazebo sketch inside. She paused, looking back at me, and it took all I had not to grab her, throw her in my truck, and take her somewhere where we wouldn’t be interrupted again.

  But I wasn’t going to make any advances. Talk about complicated sex. I’d never faced anything like this. I wanted her. My tight balls and hard dick were a testament to that. But I also needed to understand what was going on between us. I felt like I had missed a few pages out of the book we were both reading and was completely clueless as to what had happened in the missing pages.

  To say I was freaked was an understatement.

  She continued on to the rectory, and I waited while she explained to Lindsay she was going to be slightly delayed.

  I stood there and wondered why the hell they couldn’t use air at this church. Was it a financial issue? Geezus. I couldn’t breathe it was so damn hot.

  Wait, the air was on yesterday. Wasn’t it?

  Verity was talking, but her words were getting jumbled in my head.

  I felt weak all of a sudden, and I pressed my back against the wall. What was wrong with me?

  Was there something wrong?

  I closed my eyes and tried to focus, but my thoughts kept splintering. That kiss had melted me down. Just her kiss.

  It was no wonder I was light-headed, dizzy.

  I filled my chest and struggled with the heat rushing over my body.

  The next thing I knew. I was on the floor.

  Fuck!

  This was exactly the way I liked to wake up, with a beautiful woman leaning over me, her hand on my face, the white t-shirt curving over her breasts. I wondered absently if she was wearing black lace again. Or maybe red. Red was so sexy.

  Her dark hair was across my throat and mussed, like I’d had my hands in it. Straight and black and parted in the middle, falling around a face I’d seen in my dreams thousands of times.

  She was so beautiful it broke my heart. My gaze went over her. Everything around her was a fuzzy, whirling mess, but Verity’s face was so clear.

  She’d been hurt and it made me feel so bad. I would never hurt her.

  But her eyes had said differently. Somehow I’d hurt her and I didn’t know how.

  “How?” I whispered, my lips so dry, my mouth parched.

  “Boone, are you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so smooth, I closed my eyes again, just to savor it. “Boone talk to me.”

  “Do you want me to get your daddy?” Lindsay asked.

  “See if you can find him.”

  She pressed her hand against my forehead and I reached for it and pulled it to my mouth. “Oh, God, you’re burning up.”

  I opened my eyes again and took another look. Yup, I was burning up all right and she was the source
.

  “Boone, you have a fever. Were you feeling bad before today?”

  “Yes, I’m bad. I’m so bad.”

  She sounded kind of worried, like she was genuinely concerned…but she was mad at me, right? I opened my eyes, and she was even closer than she’d been before, almost on top of me, leaning over me, one of her hands sliding up to my brow, like she was feeling for a fever that same way she’d caressed me in her tiny bathroom like I was so wonderful to touch.

  “God, so good.”

  “Did you just say God is good?”

  I laughed, my mind whirling, the headache pounding with my heart. It hurt to laugh. “No, your touch. I’m wonderful.”

  “Boone, you’re not making sense.”

  She was looking at me so intently, her dark eyebrows bunching over her cinnamon eyes…or were they closer to paprika? Her lashes were lush. I’d never noticed that, her lips pink, the whole of her so creamy and lovely, my heart broke again, right there on the spot.

  “Verity, I just remembered it’s your dad’s day to go to the nursing home for his daily visit and your mom’s not answering the door. Her car’s gone.” Lindsay said.

  “She’s probably gone to the market. This is the day she shops,” Verity said, then she looked back at me. “Boone, can you sit up?’

  She supported the back of my head, slipping her hand over my back muscles. Geezus, I loved the way she touched me.

  “Lindsay, grab a bottle of water out of the fridge for me.”

  “What do you think is wrong with him?”

  “He’s a dumbass male.”

  I laughed. “Now I’m a jerk and a dumbass.”

  Lindsay laughed, too and lowered her voice, but I could still hear her. “Well, he might be a dumbass, but, man, he’s a gorgeous dumbass.”

  “Lindsay, could we focus here?” Verity said.

  “Other than being a dope. What do you think is wrong with him?”

  “Headache and fever. The knucklehead has the flu and he’s probably been ignoring the signs. It didn’t help yesterday that he got drenched and then sat in air conditioning.

  Even though she was calling me a dumbass, she was being really gentle with me. When the cold water hit my lips, I tried to drink too fast and the bottle tipped and splashed onto my chest.

  “Geezus!” I jumped and then started shivering.

  “Lindsay. I’m going to take him home. I’ll try to get ahold of his family.” She turned back to me. “Boone, can you stand?”

  I nodded and pushed myself off the floor, my head reeling, but Verity was there to steady me. She slipped her arm around me and guided me out the door. “The sketch,” I said like it was the most important thing in the world.

  Lindsay turned back and snatched it up off the floor, then followed us as Verity helped me into my truck. I leaned back in the seat. My head was still pounding and I was still shivering.

  “Boone? Your keys?”

  “Front pocket.” My joints started aching, and I didn’t even want to move to dig for my keys. My head kept spinning.

  I felt her hand in my jeans pocket, and she made a grab for what she thought was the bulge of my keys.

  “Not the keys,” I said as she grabbed my dick.

  My still hard dick.

  “Damn, Boone.”

  I know. I was sick and hard. But she’d been the one who was leaning over me with her creamy skin and touching me like she liked it.

  “Not my fault,” I mumbled.

  “I’m not going to argue about who’s to blame for your hard-on right now. Where are the keys?!”

  “Other pocket.” Was this a surreal-induced dream? Had the preacher’s daughter just grabbed my junk and then said hard-on? Geezus.

  She leaned across me, which really didn’t help my hard-on at all. I buried my face in her fragrant hair and she mumbled something under her breath.

  I ran my hand over her hair and she stiffened. It was so soft as it slipped through my fingers. I rubbed some of the midnight locks between my thumb and forefinger.

  “Stop that,” she said. “Where the hell are the keys?” She dug into my pocket, trying not to dig too far.

  “Oh, wait. I think back pocket.” Some memory drifted past of me tucking them there.

  She huffed and roughly pushed me forward, and then she was cupping my ass as she dug in one pocket and searched. Tossing her head and sighing, she reached for the other side of my ass. I was trying with all my might not to react.

  Once again not helping my hard-on. Or it was. Depended on how you looked at it, I guess.

  “Finally!” she yelled with triumph and held my keys up.

  Shoving the key into the ignition, she snapped. “Nothing is easy with you, Boone Outlaw.”

  “I’m easy,” I said softly as she put the truck in gear.

  “All men are easy.”

  I let my head drop back. “That’s because you have what we want. And we want it all the fucking time.” Had I said that out loud? Oh shit! I must have, because she was looking at me with this drop-jawed look.

  “You think that’s a revelation to any woman on this planet?” she said with smug womanness.

  Was that even a word? Fuck me, my head fucking hurts.

  “I don’t think you can take more medicine for at least three hours.” She glanced at me. “You do have some at home, right?”

  Apparently, I said that out loud, too. “Yes, sometimes I get muscle aches from lifting and I need it.”

  She huffed again. “You lift weights?”

  “Yes, physical work. Need muscles.”

  “Oh, man,” she mumbled under her breath.

  The next thing I knew she was shaking me. We were pulling up to my house. She pushed the garage door opener and maneuvered the vehicle into the open space. My other space was taken up with a sleek new Harley-Davidson Street 750, midnight black like Verity’s hair.

  She glanced at the bike as she came around to the passenger side, her eyes sliding over all that glossy metal. My dick tightened. I don’t know why, but it turned me on that she was ogling my sweet ride.

  She pulled my door open and I thought I was moving so coolly and smoothly, but I lost my balance as a dizzy spell knocked me for a loop. There was no way Verity could catch me, and I slammed against the concrete of the garage floor. But I just kept talking.

  “It’s a beautiful bike right? It’s got a liquid-cooled 60-degree V-twin whose chain-driven single overhead camshafts operate four valves per cylinder via roller rockers with screw adjusters. Cool modern, design right? It goes right back to the V-Rod of 2001. The 60-degree design was chosen to help reduce the height of the wet-sump engine, which helps keep seat height and center of gravity low. Brax has a hog, but I like the sleeker bikes.”

  “Boone! I’m sure it’s an impressive bike. But, could you take it slower? Okay. You’ve got a high fever and you’re not exactly firing on all cylinders, sugar.”

  Everything inside me froze and I lost my train of thought. Sugar. She called me sugar. Damn if I didn’t like that.

  She bent down again, getting all up in my personal space, pressing her breasts here and there when she tried to help me up.

  Again. Not helping my fucking hard-on.

  I stumbled up the stairs.

  “Where’s….your…bedroom?”

  “First door on the left.”

  Chapter Five

  Verity

  I ducked inside his room, taking in everything. His house was beautiful, his bedroom shockingly neat. When he saw the bed, he stripped off his t-shirt, revealing all that muscle from pumping iron, and it was…spectacular. I got lost in his back alone, not to mention the broad shoulders that rippled when he reached for the tab on his jeans. It was an oh, shit moment. But I couldn’t stop him. Before I could look away, he just shucked them and his underwear off, stepped out of them.

  Boone Outlaw.

  Naked.

  Gloriously naked.

  His lower back was beautiful as it tapered down to a le
an waist, the globes of his ass, hard as a rock, rolling with power when he walked, power that showed in the backs of his thick thighs and heavily muscled calves. Oh. My…Criminy…Holy…Damn…Cow! A tight, gorgeous, tanned hunk of temptation that pulled at me like a vortex.

  I swallowed and knew that I shouldn’t be looking at him, but he was much too compelling for me to look away. He hit the bed face-first, thankfully. I moved swiftly forward and drew the covers over him, trying to catch my breath. He didn’t move, but I knew I couldn’t let him sleep just yet.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and shook him. He groaned and it arrowed straight through me. He rolled over, taking the sheet with him. Before I could even take a breath, he snagged his arm around my waist. He was completely out of it now. Mumbling “off-limits” over and over again.

  He dragged me against his hard body, and he was so strong, so powerful. His big hand on my waist manhandled me like I was nothing but a pillow on his bed. Then he snuggled his face into the hollow of my neck and sighed.

  His weight pinned me down. I closed my eyes at the sensory feast that was Boone. He smelled so male, delicious, a scent I remembered vividly. Then there was his skin. It was so warm, so soft, his hot breath moist against my throat. He mumbled something I couldn’t understand and moved restlessly against me. He must be delirious. I was pretty sure of that, and it was a bad sign.

  “Boone,” I said softly. He kept mumbling. I needed to get water into him and cool him down.

  I slipped my hand in his hair, but still his head kept turning and nodding aimlessly. He lifted his upper body and I could breathe a little easier. “Boone,” I said again and his eyes popped open and he stared down at me, clearly completely disoriented at seeing me beneath him in his bed.

  A smile spread across his face, although his poor, feverish eyes were still glazed. His smile made my stomach flip anyway. Boone Swoon.

  So easy for that to happen when I found myself tucked under all that gorgeous male. So much for trying to avoid him. But I also knew that I was safe with him. I knew that instinctively. I wasn’t afraid of him or what could happen with him. The worst had already happened and I survived it.