“What can I do?”
“This. Keep me wrapped up in you.”
Several long moments passed. We stayed like that, me resting against him as we both gazed out the window.
Finally I said, “My mom called today.”
“Did she apologize?”
“Sort of. My dad and I call it an ‘Ellen apology’—along the lines of ‘I’m sorry you made me yell at you.’ She asked if I was still mad or if I planned to attend the wedding. And if I had a ‘plus one’ she needed to know your name so the wedding coordinator could add you to the seating chart.”
“Jesus. What’d you say?”
“I hadn’t decided if I was coming. I’d have my assistant call her wedding coordinator when I solidified my plan. The bratty kid in me wanted to say, Neener neener! Suck on that!”
He chuckled.
I turned my head and kissed his jaw before I stepped aside. “You have an entire week off?”
“Looks like. I won’t know what to do with myself. Since Raj is in the same boat we’ll figure something out.”
“Just make sure you don’t—”
Before I finished, the door banged open.
Greg stormed in, Nikki hot on his heels, silently apologizing with her eyes.
“You want to explain this memo from personnel? Which is total bullshit. But I expected no less from you.” Greg’s sneer became a leer when he saw Boone. “I see your secretary covers for you when you want to play grab-ass—”
“Watch it,” Boone said in that don’t-fuck-with-me tone.
Of course Greg cowered. He also shut his mouth, which was the real bonus.
“Nikki is my assistant, not my secretary. In the future, if my door is closed? Do not barge in. That’s a violation of privacy, which is spelled out in the employee handbook. Since we have a meeting in ten minutes to discuss that memo, I’ll ask Frannie from personnel to bring a handbook for you so you can brush up on protocol.”
Greg acted like he wanted to argue, but for once, he did the smart thing and left.
“That’s the little fucking weasel giving you grief?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to beat him up for you?”
I laughed. “I’d love that. But I have to fight my own battles.”
“My money is on you. And you are smoking hot when you go all ‘I’m in charge, get the fuck out’ badass businesswoman.” He kissed me. “See you at home, McKay.”
Wednesday night I arrived home from work, hoping for the peace and quiet that used to exist in my house.
But rap music booming from the stereo system greeted me as I passed through the laundry room into the kitchen. I paused in the doorway.
Raj sat on the counter, his upper body bouncing to the beat. Boone stood at the stove with his back to me as if he was cooking.
I snickered at that crazy thought.
Beer bottles were scattered here and there. As were bags of groceries. Dishes remained piled in the sink—dishes that had been there since Monday. The door to the dishwasher was open, the full rack of clean dishes pulled out. I knew they were clean because I’d done a load Sunday night and apparently I was the only one who knew how to run such a complicated machine.
Snarky much, McKay?
Now Boone’s voice was chastising me inside my own head.
For the past four days I’d tried to roll with it, chill out, be cool, adopt the “it’s all good” mindset, but it was becoming increasingly harder to do. Logically I understood by inviting Boone to live with me that I’d essentially told him my house was his house. We’d both expected adjustments to sharing the same space. We’d even joked about it. But I guess my man thought I’d been joking when I told him to pick up after himself and return whatever space he’d used to the way he’d found it. Meaning…clean and clutter free.
I’m a neat freak. I wasn’t always this way, especially as a teen. But by age seventeen, I’d tired of living in constant chaos and had a Mr. Clean epiphany. Lu accepted my need for neatness as a house rule—and didn’t pass it off as one of my personality quirks. She kept the common areas in the house up to my standards. I didn’t give a damn if her bedroom, bathroom and the extra room she used as a study were a mess. Those were her personal spaces. Plus she could just shut the doors; out of sight meant I didn’t mind.
But Boone…totally a dude. Used to living with another dude. Evidently Raj was as messy as Boone. No wonder they were such compatible roommates. I shuddered thinking about all the empty pizza boxes, carryout containers, wadded up paper products, bottles and cans that cluttered available horizontal space in their apartment. I had no problem imagining it because my house had started to look like a bachelor soldier’s flophouse.
And this was one area. I hadn’t even been in the great room since I’d cleaned up Sunday night. Boone had invited the McKay-kateers, Mase and Raj to watch the football game. It seemed Sunday nights were becoming a family night. I was cool with that; Boone needed a connection in Phoenix besides with me and Raj. Him having family and friends over? Not the issue. The issue was his “let’s deal with this mess later” attitude. Because as soon as we were alone, he had us both naked, sweaty and fucking—like my pussy had an expiration date.
Not that I was complaining. The newness of being red-hot lovers hadn’t worn off. In fact, he’d ramped it up even more the past four days. As much as I loved his single-minded focus, as if I were the sun and he needed to bask in me, as if I were an adrenaline rush he craved, as if giving me multiple orgasms was his sole purpose in life…I had the teeniest suspicion the extra body-pounding encounters were because he didn’t have anything better to do.
You’d rather Boone had done the dishes this morning instead of doing you?
Well, no, but that wasn’t the point.
I shifted backward and my heel caught on a mountain of laundry. An avalanche of Boone’s clothes nearly covered the laundry room floor.
That was the point.
What the hell had he been doing all day that he couldn’t toss in a few loads of clothes during the nine hours since I’d seen him last? It wasn’t like he was trying to juggle his job, his schoolwork, his training and his soldier stuff. His worries about the schedule change earlier in the week ended up being unfounded. It’d just been normal civilian personnel issues. So he had a week off. Basically a vacation! He should’ve been doing what needs done.
Reminder: Boone is not your employee. He’s a grown man who does not need you micromanaging his daily schedule or his life.
Right then, Boone turned around. The way those beautiful brown eyes lit up and the enormous grin that bloomed across his face when he saw me? Total fucking swoon moment.
He strode toward me. Before he uttered a word, he snaked his arm around my lower back, yanking my body against his. A tiny growl escaped and then his mouth landed on mine. His kiss was soft and searching. Sweet. Not the macho mouth fucking I expected.
I sighed and swayed into him fully.
Boone, being Boone, immediately made adjustments to better accommodate me.
Maybe you should try that.
I barked at the snark generator in my head to shut it and lost myself in my man’s welcome home kiss.
Against my lips, Boone murmured, “I fucking love you, McKay.”
I smiled. “I fucking love you too, West.”
“Come on.” He took my hand. “I gotta show you this.”
I said, “Hi, Raj,” as Boone towed me past the breakfast bar.
We stopped in front of the island.
Don’t look at the mess on the counters.
“I made dinner!” Boone announced with pride.
It appeared that he’d used every pan I owned. “What did you make?”
“Hot turkey sandwiches with mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing. It’s ready to dish up anytime you are.”
“Boone. That is awesome.” I pressed my lips to his in a lingering smooch. “Thank you.”
“I want to learn how to cook so you don’t end up
doing it all. That’s not fair to you.”
I felt a little weepy…and sort of like an asshole for my previous bitchy thoughts.
Then Boone smacked my ass. “Go shed the skin of the corporate exec. We’ll eat when you’re done.”
“Sounds good.” I looked at Raj. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“Yes ma’am. Lucinda Grace is studying at the library tonight. I’m not used to bein’ alone. So here I am, hanging with B.”
“Me’n Raj finally hooked up the PS4. We’re testing it out tonight.”
“Cool,” I said offhandedly. “I’ll change, clear my head and be back in ten.”
I kicked off my heels and sighed when my toes sank into the plush carpeting. The door to my bedroom—our bedroom—was shut. I pushed it open and flipped on the light.
So much for my few moments of serenity. I’d made the bed before I left. I didn’t care it looked rumpled, but I did care about the gym bag and the huge duffel. I eyed the stuff spilling over the middle to my side of the bed. My first thought? His shit wasn’t supposed to be in here for this very reason.
Then the hamper caught my notice. What the fuck? Why had he dumped all of my clothes all over? And mixed them up? I had a dual-sided hamper for a reason—so I could separate what went to the drycleaners from the regular wash.
“Sierra—” Boone said, barreling into the room. He latched onto my upper arms to keep from knocking me over. “Shit. I forgot to put that stuff away. I got busy…”
Busy doing what? You weren’t busy doing the damn dishes.
He gently turned me around and curled his hands around my face. “Grab your lounge clothes and hole up in the bathroom. I promise when you come out this’ll all be gone, okay?”
His eyes held remorse. Not a look I’d seen very often so I knew he was sincere. “Okay.”
He kissed my mouth, the tip of my nose, between my eyebrows and the top of my forehead.
“Before I go, I need to point out that your explosion of stuff is why I gave you another place to keep it.”
“I know. I’ll be contained over there from now on. I promise.”
I kissed him hard and swatted his ass as I headed to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later I’d scrubbed off the day’s stress, donned my lounge clothes, put my hair up and was ready to eat.
Boone gave me a head-to-toe inspection and when our eyes met, I knew he’d take great pleasure in tearing the workout tank top and yoga pants off my body. “Let’s eat.”
The food was pretty good for a first attempt. There was a lot of it, which seemed to be Boone and Raj’s main criteria. And there wouldn’t be leftovers, much to Boone’s dismay.
After the meal, Raj helped me do the dishes. Someone had at least emptied the dishwasher while I’d been decompressing, so that was a plus. By the time I’d cleaned the kitchen to my specs, an hour had passed.
When I heard the video game start—the sheer volume sent me outside to the patio.
I’d brought work home I could’ve done in the office, but I wanted to backtrack records and I was always getting interrupted and I’d lose my spot or my train of thought. I had ten years’ worth of data to crosscheck. Data I should’ve gone through the proper channels to get, but I’d asked my dad for six months ago. Since this was a pet project of sorts, I worked on it when I had time.
When my eyes started to burn and my mouth was dry, I realized in my effort to escape, I hadn’t brought anything to drink. The second I opened the sliding glass door, the noise assaulted me, louder than ever.
Enough.
They weren’t chasing me out of my own house with this. I marched into the living room and focused on the noise, not the huge fucking mess.
“Guys,” I yelled. “Turn it down.”
“Hang on a sec,” Boone said, hand busy on the game controller, eyes rapt on the screen.
“Take that, motherfucker!” Raj taunted.
“You cocksucker. That was a total dick move.”
“All’s fair in Doom, baby.”
And they were ignoring me. Awesome.
“Hit pause. Right. Fucking. Now.” I might’ve shrieked that.
The noise ceased.
“What?” Boone asked, a little testily.
Sorry I had to yell at you to get your attention away from a video game, asshole.
“Turn it down. You guys aren’t the only ones in the house.”
They exchanged a “what’s her problem, it ain’t that loud” look.
“It’s echoing down the hallway.”
“Fine.” Boone turned the game back on and pointed the remote control at the AV equipment. The volume dropped.
“Wait! Fuck, I wasn’t ready,” Raj said.
Boone hit pause again. “Quiet enough for you now?”
“Peachy, dude.”
My sarcasm was lost on him—or lost in the loud fucking noises still pouring from the speakers.
I poured myself two fingers of Crown and retired to my room. So I couldn’t even watch TV to wind down. My eyes still burned from looking at computer screens all day so I had zero interest in reading. I pulled out my phone and checked Facebook. Boring. Where did these people get the time to post so much stuff?
Then I opened Snapchat. I clicked a shot of me holding the lowball glass of Crown over my head and pinged Lu.
She responded immediately with an image of her face pressed into a textbook.
My phone buzzed with a text message.
Lu: Wazzup?
Me: I might need hearing aids. Or a machete.
Lu: Why?
Me: R&B are playing a LOUD video game.
Lu: I wondered how you’d like that. You’re right. It is loud.
Me: Is that why you aren’t studying here?
Lu:
Me: You suck. I miss you
Lu: Miss you too.
Me: Why are you at the library?
Lu: In the BFF vault?
Me: Of course.
Lu: Needed break from Raj tonite.
Me: Why? The dick don’t fit anymore?
Lu: LOL. No! Just too much togetherness. He’s in my face all the freakin’ time or n my pants. I have school & a job.
Me: I hear ya. I’m feeling very stabby w/B
Lu: Why?
Me: He’s messy
Lu: How messy?
Me: Like an F5 tornado messy.
Lu: HAHAHAHAHA
Me: Not funny! Third nite I’ve come home to dishes in the sink, stuff from Sunday is still in the great room. His dirty clothes all over laundry room & bedroom. He even dumped out my hamper. As far as the kitchen…he cooked dinner. Yeah yeah yeah he’s trying. But then he left the fucking mess for me to clean up. Took an HOUR. That ‘if you cook you don’t have to clean up’ rule doesn’t apply since I’ve cleaned up EVERY FUCKING TIME.
Lu: Ooh all caps = mad Sierra!
Me: Fuck yeah. Now loud video game and HE acted annoyed when I asked them to turn it down. Fuckface asswipe. I can still hear it.
Lu: Come to the library. It’s quiet here.
Me: Thanx. But I’ll drink my Crown and go to bed.
Lu: Wish I could sleep. Big tests tomorrow and Fri. Be a late one for me.
Me: Sorry, hon. Miss you
Lu: Let’s hang this weekend. Just us. No messy boys
Me: Deal. XOXOXO
I didn’t feel like texting anyone else. Or scrolling through social media. I didn’t even feel like popping in my earbuds to drown out the constant sounds of gunfire and explosions.
Maybe you just want to be mad.
No. I had legit complaints about the state of my house.
Then talk to him about it instead of stomping around griping about it under your breath.
That last helpful advice sounded like my dad’s wife Rielle. I adored that woman. Not just because she loved my dad like he needed after the shit-show he’d suffered through with my mom. Rielle taught me real life skills. She never treated me like her husband’s bratty kid—although I’d certainl
y acted the part a few times during the years I’d lived with them.
After downing the whiskey, I cut the lights and crawled between the sheets. I’d tuned out the game enough to drift off. Then I heard the sound of breaking glass and that shot me straight out of bed.
Shit. Was someone trying to get into the house?
I cracked open the door and listened. I heard that shattering glass sound again. It echoed from the great room.
Stupid video game.
I grabbed my favorite blanket and my cell phone. Boone could play his obnoxious video games at a million decibels. I’d just sleep on the patio.
“Sierra.”
The voice startled me out of a deep sleep.
“I’m picking you up. Hang on.”
I pushed his arms away. “Don’t.” I blinked and pulled the blanket around me. “Why’d you wake me up?”
Boone loomed over me. “Because I’m not letting you sleep in a fucking lawn chair the rest of the night. Jesus. It’s bad enough that you’ve been out here this long.”
I yawned. “What time is it?”
“Three something. Raj and I lost track of time. I went to bed and you weren’t there. I searched the whole house and couldn’t find you.”
“Did you look under the gigantic pile of your dirty clothes in the laundry room?”
“What?”
“Never mind. I would’ve been fine out here. You should’ve let me sleep, since it took me so long to get to sleep.”
“Fuck that. I can tell you’re cold. Let’s go inside and warm you up.”
It wasn’t until we were in bed and he’d wrapped me in his warm body that I understood what he meant by warm you up. He’d drawn out his caresses and kept kissing my shoulder, each kiss a little closer to my neck.
“Let me make your body burn,” he rasped in my ear.
I pushed away from him. “Just because you’re wide awake at three a.m. doesn’t mean I wanna be your post-video-game booty call.”
He stiffened. “Booty call? What the hell?”
“Yes, booty call. Wanting sex when you’ve got nothing better to do. It’s bad enough I have to be up in four hours to go to work. You don’t get to use me—sex—as a sedative to help you sleep. Especially when you didn’t give a damn that your video game was loud enough to chase me out of the fucking house.”
Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1) Page 27