by Lori Foster
At him with April.
It was like they knew something he didn’t.
Whatever it was, they all seemed pleased.
During a cornhole game, Adam helped to clue him in. They were on the same side and getting considerably skunked by April’s sister Kady and her husband, Tucker. He learned that badminton was Kady’s real game, but she had a tenacious competitive streak whatever she played.
In an aside, Adam murmured, “First time, you know.”
“That you’ve lost?” he asked, throwing the bag and watching it slide home on the opposing board. It wasn’t him losing, but rather Adam. Nice guy, but his toss sucked—especially for an athlete.
That made him wonder if Adam lost on purpose.
“No.” Adam chugged some water, then wiped a forearm over his brow. “First time that April’s brought a guy around the family.”
Turning to stare at him, Boone said, “I thought she dated a lot.”
“She does, but she keeps that separate from family.” After setting the bottle aside, Adam said, “Until you.”
Boone needed a moment to digest that. What the hell did it mean? Did he dare hope it made him...special?
“Are we going to play or conspire?” Kady called. “There’s no strategy, gentlemen. You’ve lost. Give it up.”
Grinning at her, Boone gave another throw and sank it. He asked Adam, “So what’s the point of that, do you think? I mean, why me?”
Adam shrugged. “Could be she doesn’t consider you a date.”
Well, hell. Not liking that idea at all, Boone frowned.
“But we’re all assuming it means she likes you. Likes you more than a one-time thing, I mean.”
Much better—but could it be? Boone’s gaze sought her out. She stood barefoot in the grass, her head tilted as she snapped photos of the park. She hadn’t changed clothes, and she looked so amazing with the sunshine pouring over her, his pulse quickened. He wanted her so damn much, it ate him up. He couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t want her, so the thought of a future without her made him ache.
Adam’s elbow connected with his ribs. “Yeah, you shouldn’t forget that everyone’s watching. Much more of that, and you’ll get yourself into trouble.”
“Right.” Boone gave his attention back to the game, and when Kady scored the winning point, he silently celebrated with her.
Now he was free to find April.
When he looked for her again, he saw her a distance away, on her stomach in the grass, getting a close shot of wildflowers growing in a cluster.
She made the prettiest picture he’d ever seen, feet crossed behind her, balanced on her elbows in the rich green grass, the camera near her face. The shape of her, from her small feet and curved calves, up to her thighs and then the rounding of her ass... He wanted her. Every part of her.
The gorgeous body, the sweet generosity, the take-no-prisoners attitude—somehow he needed to get things going instead of spinning his wheels. If Adam had it right, today was a good start.
Determined, Boone headed her way, but got cut off by her uncle Morgan, accompanied by his son Garrett and her uncle Jordan. Garrett was as big as his behemoth father, minus some muscle bulk, and with a much more congenial attitude.
Garrett had his father’s dark hair and piercing blue eyes, worked as a firefighter, and Boone respected him a lot.
Jordan, the veterinarian, was always serious but kind—and he currently had a menagerie of pets following him, including Sunshine. It was almost comical to see. The animals circled him, darted between his legs and bumped into him, yet Jordan never stumbled—and he managed to continue patting them all in turn.
Her uncle had so much control over animals he could be part of an urban legend. He loved them, they loved him in return, and in some indefinable way they all communicated.
Boone would have commented on his own dog’s current state of adoration for the vet, but the three men stared at him with intent.
Tugging at his ear, Boone asked, “What’s up?”
Never one to mince words, Morgan said, “We heard about that ass, Phil. What he pulled in the diner with April.”
Boone cocked a brow. “Ass is right.” Never would he disagree on that point. “April gave him hell.”
“You could have done us all a favor,” Jordan said quietly, without any inflection, “and demolished him.”
Boone barely caught his laugh. This was her pacifist uncle, and yet he’d said that in the same way someone might have wished him a good day, or commented on the weather. His expression didn’t even change.
“Trust me, I’d have liked to. Thing is, April basically told me to mind my own business.”
“So?” Garrett shrugged. “You let that stop you?”
Boone gave a crooked smile. Garrett’s wife, Zoey, probably had her hands full keeping him in line. “Yeah, see, April considers all of you domineering enough and doesn’t want anyone else joining the mob. Following in your path would be a strike against me.”
Garrett snorted. “She doesn’t get a say in it, not when that prick put hands on her.”
“He held her wrist,” Boone explained mildly. “Not hard, just the way someone does to catch a person’s attention. If he’d hurt her, I would have smashed him. But April handled him like a pro.”
“Good.” Morgan clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. At sixty-something, the guy was still a giant, mobile, wall of rock. “Just keep in mind—”
Garrett cleared his throat, loudly.
Morgan ignored him. “—if you’re going to be around my niece, and that looks to be the way things are headed, then I expect you to step up.”
“Morgan,” Jordan said, to no effect.
“And trust me,” Morgan finished, “Phillip would rather tangle with you than me any day.”
Even if Morgan didn’t feel the rising tension, Boone did. Both Garrett and Jordan were gazing beyond him...and then it hit him.
He sensed April’s nearness.
Turning his head, Boone found her standing right behind him, arms tightly crossed, bare foot tapping the grass, her expression foreboding. Every beautiful inch of her showed her ire.
Uncaring, Morgan said, “We like this one, April.”
Garrett stepped up beside Boone. “Other than him letting Phil off the hook—which was obviously your fault—he seems solid.”
Jordan joined in, saying in his moderated way, “You’ve been kind to Phil, but he’s not worth the effort. Since you won’t let us run him off, at least give Boone the honor.”
With a low growl, April threw up her hands. “We’ve been over this. You guys can’t go around threatening every man who looks at me.”
“Looking is one thing,” Garrett said matter-of-factly. “Hell, that happens every two minutes, so I’m pretty sure there’s no stopping it.” He crossed his arms and added with credible threat, “But if Phil touches you near me, he’s going to lose a hand.”
“And I just told you we like Boone,” Morgan argued. “So it’s not every guy we have a problem with.”
“Just the asses,” Jordan concurred.
Grabbing Boone and taking two steps away, her back to her family, she said, “Do you see what I have to deal with?”
“They’re barbarians,” he soothed, slipping an arm around her. “You clearly had control of things with Phil. I was impressed.”
“Damn right I did.”
When Boone glanced up, hoping the men wouldn’t misunderstand his motives, Morgan gave him an approving nod and Garrett sent him a thumbs-up. Jordan smiled.
Great, they understood. He let out a breath.
Walking that fine line between April’s independence and her family’s protectiveness might not be as hard as he feared.
That was, until her dad sidelined him next.
Dresse
d in cargo shorts, a loose T-shirt and untied sneakers, Gabe Kasper had retained his casual look of a beach bum through the years, yet Boone knew few men who worked as hard as he did. Gabe had repaired, remodeled or outright built something for damn near everyone in and around Buckhorn.
And Boone owed him a debt of gratitude.
Before Gabe had completely reached them, Boone held out his hand. “Mr. Kasper,” he said with a smile. “I was going to talk with you earlier, but you were busy playing softball.”
Gabe’s left eyebrow crawled up. “You could have interrupted.”
“Naw, it wasn’t anything that important. I just wanted to thank you. Buchanan said you recommended he call me as a buyer for his company.”
“Right.” Gabe grinned and held out his hand. “I heard it worked out.”
With the handshake, Boone said, “He gave me a hell of a deal. I appreciate it.”
“It’s a deal for him, too. His big concern was the few men on his crew. You’ve taken care of that.”
Basically, Boone had happily agreed to continue the business with the same contractors, in addition to paying half now for Buchanan’s equipment already owned, and a monthly rental for a year to cover the rest.
At that point, the whole thing would be his, free and clear. The men were well-trained, hard workers with families. It pleased everyone that their employment wouldn’t be disrupted.
“It’s a perfect setup for me,” Boone said. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
Gabe nodded. “Lined up any jobs yet?”
“A few. Local remodel on a lake property and some commercial stuff in town.”
Gabe started to ask another question, but April didn’t give him a chance.
“Dad, stop grilling him.” She linked her arm with Boone’s, as if to create a united front against her father.
Bemused, both Boone and Gabe looked at her.
Almost defiantly, she held on. A message to her dad? Boone wouldn’t mind in the least.
“I remember him as a hard worker.” Lifting a brow, Gabe asked, “Still are?”
“Yes, sir.”
Shaking his head, Gabe laughed. “No sirs or misters, okay? Gabe will do.” He turned to April. “Mind grabbing me a cola, honey? Maybe get something for Boone, too?”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Boone’s already been given the inquisition. You don’t need to pile on.”
“Yeah?” Gabe grinned. “Was it Morgan?”
“No inquisition,” Boone protested, still walking that line. “He and Garrett—”
“And even Uncle Jordan!” April added.
“—were concerned about something that happened in the diner.”
“Phil, the ass,” Gabe growled. “I heard about that.”
Of course he had. As April had said, news traveled fast in Buckhorn. Boone wondered if there was anyone in the entire county who didn’t yet know about it.
Gaze on his daughter, Gabe said, “I assume April handled it?”
Feeling a touch of pride, Boone nodded. “It was beautiful, actually. I’ve never seen a set-down quite as brutal or as smooth. It was a sight to see.”
“I taught my girls to stand up for themselves.” Gabe’s frown didn’t lighten. “But I don’t trust Phil. A confrontation in a diner is one thing, but if he got her alone—”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” April said with her own frown.
Father and daughter engaged in a stare down.
Until April rolled her eyes. “It was only a casual meal, in a public place, and I already told him it’ll never happen again.”
“That’s my girl.” Finally satisfied, Gabe nodded. “Now about that drink?”
Sighing, she told Boone, “Don’t let him bully you.”
“Ah...”
“Don’t bully him,” she said to her dad. With a look of warning, she added, “I’ll only be a minute.”
As she strode away barefoot, Gabe called, “Watch for bees!”
When she lifted a hand, Gabe turned back to him, looked him over and noted with satisfaction, “You’re smiling.”
“Yeah.” Couldn’t help it. Everything about April, including her temper and her relationship with her family pleased him. “I don’t mind admitting, she does that to me.” Her father needed to know that Boone was interested, that he wanted more—as long as April didn’t shut him down.
Settling in, Gabe propped a shoulder against a tree. “So Boone, you’re staying in Buckhorn?”
“I’m staying.”
“For good?”
“Yes.”
“And you like my daughter?”
Boone tugged at his ear, uncomfortable with the father-talk unfolding, but relieved at the same time. It meant that Gabe, too, thought he might be important enough to grill. “Very much.” More than that even. Hell, more so every time he visited with her. Every time he saw her.
Each damn time she smiled at him.
Gabe didn’t comment on that, but asked, “You’ve moved into your old home?”
Boone nodded. “It needs a lot of work after being empty five years. It’ll take some time, but eventually it’ll be...” He ran out of words. What he wanted to say was, Good enough for April. Of course he couldn’t, so he switched it to, “I have plans for it.”
Plans he hadn’t yet started. Things he couldn’t bring himself to do yet. When he walked into the house, he not only saw the dated dark wood paneling, the dull laminate counters and floors, the warped cabinets in the tiny kitchen, and the lack of natural light.
He saw his dad, sitting there in his old beat-down recliner in front of an ancient TV. He saw his own failings. He saw...loss.
Boone hadn’t moved the chair, but neither had he sat on it.
When he had time to sit, he did so outside, drinking his coffee on lawn furniture.
He hadn’t yet changed any of it—but he would for April.
“I’m surprised you never sold it,” Gabe said quietly. “Plenty of people were interested. It’s a prime spot, a good stretch of private land with mature shade trees. Quiet back in the cove, but with quick access to the main lake.”
“All that,” Boone agreed, feeling real love for the house, just not the memories that came with it. “That’s why Dad didn’t want to sell. He knew he’d never be able to return, but he hoped I would.” For a second there Boone’s throat tightened, and he had to look away.
Gabe stood silent, saying nothing, but Boone felt his understanding.
Finally, Boone managed to say, “Dad wanted to know if I’d settle down, and I promised him I would.” He made himself meet Gabe’s perceptive gaze. “For a lot of reasons, this is home. I’m not going anywhere else.”
“Home is a good place to be, and that house has a lot of potential. You’ve made plans on what you’ll do to it?”
Yeah, he had plenty of plans. Nodding, Boone said, “So far I’ve only refurbished the dock and boathouse, and gotten the yard in shape.” Five years of unchecked weed growth had required a Bush Hog and backbreaking determination. “My overall idea is to open up the inside so the kitchen and living room feel bigger, modernize it some, then do an addition on my bedroom with a connecting bath.”
He couldn’t bear the idea of sleeping in his dad’s room, but he could turn it into an office—eventually. The third, smallest bedroom could remain for guests.
“I’d be happy to help,” Gabe said. “We all liked and respected your dad. If at any point you need a hand, let me know, okay?”
The offer leveled Boone. Again he fought that lump in his throat. “I can’t afford... I put damn near everything I had into buying out Buchanan—”
“I said help, not hire on.” Gabe gave Boone’s shoulder a squeeze. “Know the difference. You need me for anything, give me a call.”
Boone was trying to find the right words wh
en thankfully April returned. He must have looked a little overwhelmed because she did a double take, cast a suspicious look at her dad...
And came to Boone’s side once again before handing over the frosty colas and keeping one for herself.
Satisfaction chased away every maudlin thought, especially when she took his hand and said, “Let’s walk.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE DAY ROLLED on in a pleasant way until the setting sun colored the sky with gold-and-red-bottomed clouds across the vivid green horizon.
Boone felt pretty damned good. He had April to himself, and her family had been more than accepting, encouraging even.
His misspent youth hadn’t tripped him up.
Not in Buckhorn.
The sultry summer day, accompanied by a gentle breeze that caressed the leaves of the surrounding woods, cooled just enough to make it pleasant. Animals napped together, couples left hand in hand, and the park grew quiet except for the songs of crickets and frogs.
Boone didn’t think he’d ever been so aware of a woman—or ever wanted anyone more.
He and April had just naturally fallen into pace together. Their conversation was easy, their gestures natural and familiar.
It was almost like they’d become a couple so long ago, back when she’d come to his house. Back when he’d regretfully turned her away.
Back when he’d left town feeling lower than any man ever should.
He knew he was a better man now.
Did she?
“So...” she murmured, glancing at him as they began gathering up their picnic supplies into a large canvas tote. “I’m going to this bar on Saturday.”
“Bar?” Buckhorn was still a dry county—that hadn’t changed in the time he was gone—so going to a bar meant driving outside the area.
“It’s a work thing.” She added her camera to the top of the tote. “The Plump Possum did a big remodel—”
“Wait.” Grinning, Boone helped her back to her feet. “There’s a bar called the Plump Possum?”