I bit back the curse word that hovered on the tip of my tongue and smiled until my cheeks ached. I could just imagine what Louisiana would have to say about that to me, and more importantly, her Mommy Mafia. Something about me and Boomer sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G I’m sure. But if Boomer could suck it up and be Boomer Kendall and all that that entailed, I could handle a little PDA.
“We’ll be right back.” Boomer nudged me through the dining room toward the glass sliding door that led to the Kendalls’ backyard.
I dropped my purse and stared down at the little, floppy eared, blue-eyed, grey-and-white face on the other side of the door. “She’s adorable!” Her little pouty face begged for someone to hold her. “Where’d you get her?”
“Fire station. One of the guys found a box of abandoned pit bull puppies and they’ve been taking care of them. Daisy and one other puppy were the last two needing a home so—” he shrugged and gave me an unapologetic grin as he leaned closer. “I always was a sucker for a pretty face.”
Cheeks burning, I ignored his innuendo and said, “Is that why you stole Big Orange?” Which was lying next to the puppy on the flagstone patio. “For Miss Daisy there?”
“Like I said, pretty faces. And I’ll get Dexter another…whatever that is.”
I snorted while Boomer opened the door. I shoved my way past him, picked her up and then gave him my best stank-eye expression. It was easy to see why he chosen her. She had a sweet face and expressive eyes. “So you got a dog for Christmas. You do realize she’ll top out at about seventy-five pounds. And for the record, she doesn’t look like a Daisy to me.”
“You can rename her if you want.” He took her from me and cuddled her in one of those big hands of his. “Since, you know, she’s actually your dog. Or, if you want, ours.”
“Boomer…” I glanced over at the nearby kitchen windows, aware of his parents on the other side, laughing as they set the table.
“They can’t hear us.” He held up a hand to stop me from speaking. “Not that they’re going to be too surprised about any of this. I want you to do your internship, and you can’t do that with a puppy. I can take her back to Houston with me and pay somebody to watch her when I’m out of town. And then after the season’s over, I want to come back here and build a new house.”
“A dog and a new house,” I echoed weakly as I reached out to scratch Daisy under her chin. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
“I hope so. I think I do. But I love you, Mattie, and it won’t be any fun if I have to do this without you.”
“I love you, too, Boomer,” I said awkwardly. After all these years, it didn’t come as naturally to me as it did to him. “I’m sorry for being so judgy and I promise I’ll always listen to you complain. But I don’t think I can help you figure out anything until you tell me what you meant about you and Marsh. That was quite a bomb you dropped.”
He sighed and slid the glass door closed for privacy, then took a seat beside me. “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory. Your brother wanted to go pro, not me. Yeah, we talked about it. If you’re gonna dream, dream big and all that. He never said anything to anyone else, in case it didn’t pan out, and then he got hurt. He made me promise to keep going.”
“And what?” I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. “You sacrificed yourself on the altar of the NFL? For my brother?”
“Something like that. Don’t get me wrong. I love the game, but all the stuff that comes with it—” he shook his head. “It’s just…not what I thought I’d end up doing. I thought I’d be the teacher,” he said with a pained laugh that cut me to the quick.
“Really?” I swallowed the lump of tears in my throat.
“Really.” He nodded for good measure. “And like I said, it’s not easy. But this is how it works. Everyone hates your or everyone loves you. Everyone watches you. Everyone measures your every move and looks for hidden meanings. But you don’t complain because you won the lottery.” He shrugged, his expression serious and sad. “You just roll with it.”
“And then I did the same thing.” But worse. He wasn’t just ‘someone I knew from back in the day’ or ‘that guy from my hometown’, he was my brother’s best friend, my childhood playmate, my high school crush, the boy who’d gone off to college and left me before I could work up the nerve to tell him how I felt. And then I’d turned around and blamed him for Marsh’s injuries and my parents dying. I’d even called him an attention whore, for crying out loud. “Did you really want to be a teacher? Like Marsh?” I asked as Daisy crawled back into my lap.
He ducked his head and tried to hide a big, cheesy grin as the wind ruffles his hair. “Yeah.”
I squeezed Daisy a little tighter, trying to picture Boomer with a bunch of eight-year-olds and Marsh with a six car garage and two Super Bowl rings. And no Louisiana. Or Moses. “I bet you would have been a good teacher,” I finally said.
He sighed and said, “It’s okay, but it’s a fine line to walk. Even with your brother, sometimes.” He laughed and shook his head. “How do I say, ‘Hey I’m thinking about turning down a sixty million dollar contract,’ when he’s living on a teacher’s salary?”
My jaw dropped as I sat up straighter and stared at him. “You are?”
“I was. And that look on your face? That’d be pretty much everyone’s response,” he said with a harsh laugh. “How do you say no to sixty million dollars? Plus the endorsements.”
“Or why? Because if you did, you’d better have a really good reason, huh?”
“Exactly. I’m tired, Matilda. I love playing ball, but I’m tired of the aches and pains, the hits and the injuries. That part gets old. I’m twenty-nine years old and on the inside, I feel ten years older.”
“Did you say no? Did you turn it down?”
“No,” he said, his voice low, his expression serious “I said yes. Now ask me why.”
“Why?” I choked out, more than a little scared at what his answer would be.
“Because I want to set up a need-based academic scholarship for kids like Bailey and John, and that takes money.”
“Really?” I breathed, at a complete loss for words for maybe the second time in my life.
“You’re starting to sound like Bailey, sweetheart,” he teased.
“It’s too much.” It was huge. After all the scrimping and saving and sacrifices I’d made to put myself through college, I knew this wasn’t just because of John and Bailey. I also knew that Boomer’d always been there, even when I’d thought he wasn’t.
“That’s what you do for family, for home, for the people that you care about.” He leaned against me, solid and reassuring. “It’s just four more years, Mattie. And in four years, I can walk away—while I’m still relatively young, and healthy enough to chase our kids around the farm.” He reached behind him, pulling an envelope from his pocket and handing it to me.
“Our…” For once in my life I was speechless. My brain was stuck on a loop that echoed the words ‘kids’ and ‘farm’. All I could do was sit there on the porch step, tears clouding my vision, while Daisy licked my fingers and inside his parents were telling the kids to wash their hands because we’d eat soon.
“Open it.” He motioned to the envelope.
“I’m not sure I want to.” I wasn’t sure I had the strength. I sniffed and blinked a few times. The envelope in my hands had a return address from the local land title company. “I’m scared, Boomer.”
“So am I.” He laughed. “I know jack shit about farming—”
“Farming?” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath or stop nodding my head.
“—So you better say yes, Mattie Johnson, cause I’m now the proud owner of a thousand acres.”
“Yes? To farming? For real? Seriously?” I squeaked.
“Relax! It’s too soon to put a ring on your finger. And besides you’d probably just get it all caked with dirt anyway. But I promise, after you finish your internship, you can have a proper proposal with any ring you want.” He
nodded slowly, his customary smart-ass grin firmly in place as I finally opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
He was serious. He was dead serious, and I had the proof in my shaking hands. “Boomer Ray Kendall,” I screeched. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Language,” Bud admonished loudly from inside.
“Leave them be, Bud.” That was Irene.
I swallowed the stress ball clogging my throat. “How much does your mom know?”
“You mean, does she know we made love at Rosewood Ranch? Probably. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Does she know that I bought Rosewood Ranch and intend to rename it Rosewood Farms because my future wife wants to be a farmer, and start a community co-op, and teach little kids where food comes from and feed the world or at least the county? Yes. Absolutely.”
“So you really want—” I narrowed my eyes, “—to be a farmer…with me.”
“I want you and digging in the dirt sounds a hell of a lot more fun than getting tackled.”
“We’re eating without you two,” Bud hollered.
Boomer stood up and held out his hand.
“I didn’t get you anything…” I gaped up at him, not even sure where to start.
“Yes, you did.” He hauled me to my feet and kissed me while Daisy tried to gnaw on the rivets on his overalls, and from inside came the sound of more laugher. “You gave me you.”
THE END
Switchblade © Christine Bell
Wild Irish Christmas © Mari Carr
A Christmas Caroline © Allison Gatta
Sanctuary with the Cowboy © MJ Fredrick
A Liberty Christmas © Leigh James
Candy Cane Lane © Maggie Marr
Getting in the Spirit © Erin Nicholas
Don’t Open Until Christmas © Abigail Owens
Holiday with a Billionaire © Mandy Rosko
The Dog Who Stole Christmas © Amie Stuart
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 76