by Meghan March
From the way Wendy’s lips curve, I’m sure this isn’t the first time Mr. Thrasher has said something to that effect.
Kyle comes running out of the kitchen with a red Kool-Aid mustache. “Lala says the veggies aren’t done yet. Five more minutes. I’m gonna help finish setting the table.”
Mr. Thrasher hands out the bottles to the rest of us and ruffles the boy’s hair before Kyle darts off again.
Everything about this house and the people in it screams family. Something I haven’t had in a really long time, or maybe ever.
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Thrasher smiles at me as I take a long draw of my beer. “So, Ripley Fischer, tell us about yourself. How’d you meet my son?”
I swallow and fight the urge to bite my lip. I’m sure hearing that I’m a bartender and I met Boone when he came into my bar isn’t going to win them over. A worse thought occurs to me. What if they think I’m some kind of gold digger?
Boone answers for me. “Ripley’s been running her family’s bar, and doing a damn good job of it too. I was lucky enough to meet her when Zane Frisco dragged me there one night. I keep forgetting that I need to thank him for that.” His arm slips around my waist and his hand squeezes my hip.
Mr. Thrasher’s eyebrows go up. “Running a bar can’t be an easy business.”
“It’s definitely a challenge,” I reply. “It was in my family for over thirty years, and unfortunately recently closed.”
“So, what you’re saying is you don’t have a job?”
This comes from Boone’s brother, and no one in the room can miss the skepticism in his tone. At least I have an answer to my question. He definitely thinks I’m a gold digger.
“I have a job. I’m bartending at the White Horse Saloon while I work out exactly what I’m going to do next. It’s been a long time since I’ve considered the possibility of doing something other than working in a bar. I’ve been carrying cases of liquor since I was Kyle’s age.”
Wendy jabs Grant in the side again, and I highly doubt he and I are going to be friends. I can’t blame him, though. He’s just looking out for his little brother.
“Wow, that sounds like an interesting way to grow up,” Wendy says to cover the awkwardness of the moment.
“I had the boys working around the shop when they were growing up too. And let me tell you, Boone here is lucky he survived with all his fingers, for as much as I had to holler at him for messing with stuff.”
We’re saved from any more awkward small talk when Boone’s mom walks out of the kitchen and into the dining room with a steaming casserole dish.
“Come on, y’all. I’m not letting my scalloped potatoes get cold for anyone.”
Kyle follows her with a basket covered in a towel and sets it on the table.
“I’ll get the ham, Susie-Q.” Boone’s dad heads for the dining room to set down his beer before disappearing into the kitchen.
“Is there anything we can help with?” I ask Boone.
“Ma would whip my ass if I let you lift a finger this time. You’re a guest. You’ll have to wait until next time to lend a hand. She’s got rules.”
“And those rules exempt pregnant women from doing anything more than enjoying her amazing cooking,” Wendy says with a smile. “Come on, you’re not gonna want to miss this. I swear she sprinkles crack on the food, because no matter how close I follow her recipes, mine never taste as good.”
“Come on, baby. You know I said your meat loaf was just as good as Ma’s,” Grant says to his wife as he walks into the dining room with us.
“Hush your mouth. You don’t want your mama to overhear that.”
“Too late, sweet boy. But you’re lucky I love you, or there’d be no more meat loaf for you.” Boone’s mom strides toward me and wraps me in a hug. “Welcome, Ripley. I’m so sorry I didn’t greet you properly earlier. It’s like conducting a symphony making sure everything’s ready on time. We’re so happy to have you in our home. Boone’s told me a lot about you, and I’ve been dying to get a look at you. I knew I was right. He finally picked a good one.”
He told his parents about me?
“Ma—” Boone tries to interrupt, but Mrs. Thrasher releases me and hugs him hard.
“Shush your mouth, boy. I’m speaking the truth. We’ve missed you. We’re coming up to Nashville soon. Your daddy promised me a night out on the town, and it’s time to pay up.”
“Anytime you want, Ma. You know my door is always open, or I’ll get you a hotel if you want to stay in town.”
“I’ve told you a million times, I’m fine with staying at the Holiday Inn. It’s plenty fancy enough for us.”
“Don’t you dare stay at the Holiday Inn, Ma. You deserve the best I can give you, since that’s what you always gave me.”
My heart plops into a big sloppy puddle on the floor.
Boone is a mama’s boy, and it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Sit down and eat. My ham will get cold if I take the time to argue with you about this nonsense.”
We sit down at the table, with Mr. Thrasher at the head and Mrs. Thrasher at the foot near the kitchen. Everyone joins hands as Boone’s dad leads us in a prayer.
By the time his mom serves dessert, it’s official. I’ve completely fallen in love with Boone’s family.
Well, most of them.
23
Boone
I could wring my brother’s neck, just hard enough not to kill him. It’s clear he’s not sure about Ripley and doesn’t like how fast things have moved with us. But that’s too damn bad. There’s one thing I know about Ripley now—if I give her too much time to think, she’ll talk herself out of giving me a shot and I’ll lose my chance forever. I’m not about to let that happen.
“Your brother hates me,” Ripley says as I close the door to the garage apartment.
“He doesn’t hate you.” I drop our bags on the bench at the end of the bed.
“If looks could kill, you’d be picking my body bag up off the living room floor.”
The very thought of Ripley in a body bag makes my stomach turn, threatening the ham and scalloped potatoes I ate for dinner.
“Don’t say that. He’s just looking out for me.”
“Was he the same way with Amber?” she asks.
I hate to admit it because I know Ripley’s going to draw some sort of conclusion from it, but it’s going to be the wrong one. But still, I can’t lie.
“He didn’t like Amber. He only met her twice, and both times, she didn’t give him a whole lot to like. I promise he won’t be like that with you. He’s in protective-older-brother mode right now. I think it’s easy for him to forget I’m thirty-two years old and totally capable of making my own decisions.”
“He thinks you’re making a mistake with me. That you shouldn’t have gotten involved with someone else so quickly. I can’t say I disagree with him, Boone. I was supposed to be the rebound, but you didn’t follow the rules.”
“I’ll tell him the same thing I’m about to tell you—it doesn’t matter how much time there was between, because it was pretty fucking apparent once I got my head out of my ass that I was dead wrong about Amber. I wanted the line of bullshit she sold me, and I was too fucking blind to realize that’s exactly what it was—bullshit.”
“What if I can’t give you what you want? I don’t know how to do this!” Ripley waves toward the house as she keeps going. “You have a perfect family. A mom and dad who love each other and care about you. A brother who would kill someone for you. A sister-in-law who isn’t a bitch, and a nephew who’s as sweet as can be. They even have the perfect dog!”
“So? What the hell does that matter?”
“You know what I had? A murdered mother who slept around to try to escape her reality of being married to an asshole drunk who didn’t have a problem showing her—and me—the back of his hand whenever he felt like it. Oh, and don’t forget a lying, freeloading bitch of a cousin, and an aunt I haven’t seen in c
lose to twenty years.”
“That doesn’t mean shit, Ripley. You’re loyal and kind, won’t accept help unless you’re forced, and I’m pretty fucking sure you wouldn’t hesitate to throw yourself on a grenade if it meant it would save someone you love.”
She goes quiet, and a rough breath leaves her lungs. “But that doesn’t mean I know how to be part of something. I know your brother is just looking out for you, but maybe he’s right. Maybe you do need more time before you figure out what you want.”
I close the gap between us and yank her against me. “I don’t need time to know that you’re not like any woman I’ve ever met before, and everything you are is everything I want. Don’t try to push me away just because you’re scared of what’s happening here.”
“I’m not scared.”
I look her in the eye. “Sugar, you’re fucking terrified.” I lift a hand to skim along her cheek. “You told me that girls like you don’t get a happily-ever-after, and I told you I was going to prove you wrong. I’m a man of my word. I’m done asking you to give me a shot. I’m taking it, because I know I can make you happy. I can give you everything you’ve been afraid to want. You want front-porch swings and little dark-haired babies, I’m the man who’s gonna give them to you. Do you understand me, Ripley? I’m not fucking around. You want a recording contract with a big label and a splashy tour? Then we’ll make it happen, and we’ll conquer it together. You’ve never been part of a team before, and it’s time you understood what that’s like.”
“It’s too much, too fast. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Sugar, all you have to do is try.”
24
Ripley
Boone is slaying me one word at a time. I’m terrified that I’ll fall for the picture he’s painting and I’ll wake up and find out that it’s all a dream—or a nightmare. Instead of giving him the answer he wants to hear, I crush my mouth to his.
“You’re not gonna distract me,” he says on a ragged breath as he pulls away.
“Then consider this me trying.”
Boone groans and curses. “Fuck, I want you, but dammit, I’ve never had sex at my folks’ house.”
His admission shocks me. “Are you serious?”
“I respected them too much. Besides, I had my truck and that worked fine.”
Now I’m trying to picture a younger Boone and what he must have been like. Cocky, arrogant, and probably the hottest guy in school. “You were a total player, weren’t you?”
“Now what makes you automatically assume that?”
“How could you not be?”
Boone laughs. “As much as I love your vote of confidence, sugar, I wasn’t always a stud.”
“Riiiiight, superstar. I don’t believe it.” I’m sliding back into normal, not-so-freaked-out territory.
“My folks didn’t have money. My truck was pieced together from the salvage yard. It was three different colors until I could save up the money to paint it myself in the auto-body class, and I had to carry an extra quart of oil around with me just in case it burned it all. I wasn’t anything special. There were plenty of girls that wouldn’t look twice at me because I didn’t live up to their standards.”
“Hey, you got one up on me. I didn’t even have a car in high school. And I bet you anything those girls are kicking themselves hard now.”
Boone chuckled. “A few of them managed to get meet-and-greet passes and tried to hook up with me after a concert.”
“I hope you shut them down hard.”
“What do you think?”
“I think you definitely did.” My hand skims down his T-shirt to trail over the waistband of his jeans. “Speaking of hard . . .”
“Let’s just put this on the table—I know you’re distracting me, and we both know you’re damn good at it. But this conversation isn’t over. We’re gonna come back to this, and you’re gonna tell me you understand where we’re going and you’re on board with it.”
“There’s plenty of time to talk about that later.” My voice has taken on a husky tone, and I reach for the button of Boone’s fly. “Right now, I’d rather make you come.”
With a flick of my wrist, I pop the button and tug down the zipper. He groans when my hand closes around his cock.
“So, are we gonna go for a ride in your truck, or are you finally going to man up and bang a girl at your parents’ house?” I can’t help but giggle as I say it. “Although, you should know, I’m not opposed to the truck . . .”
“Oh, I’ll definitely have you in my truck one of these days. Don’t you doubt it for a second. But tonight . . . tonight we’re not leaving this room. I swear, you’re the only one who could tempt me into this. You’re dangerous, woman.”
I squeeze him a little tighter.
“You’re only saying that because my hand is wrapped around your dick.”
Boone catches my hand and squeezes it tighter. “Nah. You won’t break me, sugar. Feel free to get a little rough.”
An impulse slams into me, surprising me enough to have me stumbling over my next move.
I want him in my mouth. I want to drive him so crazy he can’t remember his own name. I want him never to forget this night or me.
I’m not the kind of girl who gets to her knees for a man, but with Boone . . . something’s different.
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s never asked me. Never even brought it up. Or maybe it’s because he’s gone down on me multiple times, never expecting anything in return.
Whatever it is, I want this. I slide to my knees, ready to break a long-term ban on giving head, but Boone grabs me by the elbows and hauls me up.
“I don’t want you on your knees. I want that pussy on my face.”
Heat pulses between my legs. “Okay.”
“Attagirl.”
He kicks off his jeans before stripping off mine and tipping us both backward onto the bed. I land on top of him.
“First, give me this mouth. I can never get enough of this mouth.”
“I was trying to—”
“Shush.”
His lips capture mine, and I lose myself in the kiss. His tongue sweeps inside, tasting and teasing, before his teeth nip my lips and I nip back.
“You’ll always bite back, won’t you?”
“I give as good as I get.”
Boone’s blue eyes blaze. “Guess we’re going to find out right now.” He sits up. “Spin around and give me that sweet pussy.”
Oh God. Sixty-nine? I’ve never been a fan of that . . . but then again, with Boone, everything is different. I guess I don’t have to worry about putting my ass in his face since he’s already laid claim to it. I’m going for it.
With a smirk and zero shame, I shift into place, my legs spread over Boone’s face, and he wastes no time gripping my ass and pulling me closer. I’ve barely got my lips to the head of his cock when he devours me.
It’s everything I can do to keep my focus on the goal. And I completely and utterly fail.
Two orgasms later, both mine, I finally scoot down Boone’s body.
“This is so not fair,” I protest.
“What? That you can’t help but lose your mind when my lips touch your pussy? Not sure why you sound upset about that.”
“Because this was my show. My turn.”
He shakes his head and grips his cock with one hand. “Then by all means, sugar. Climb on and take it home.”
Being on top is another thing I’ve never really loved because of the way everything bounces and jiggles, especially if it’s not pitch dark in the room.
Boone notices my hesitation. “You change your mind?”
It’s time to woman up, which isn’t exactly a hardship with the way Boone is staring at me.
“Things jiggle when I’m on top,” I confess.
Boone’s eyebrows go up. “And thank fuck for that. Do you have any idea how sexy you are when those sweet tits are bouncing? God, I’m halfway ready to come just thinking about it. And being able to ge
t my mouth on them while you ride me . . . shit. I’m gonna have to fight to make it last. And when I get my hands on that luscious ass of yours . . .” He groans. “I’m a goner. Hell, I’m already a goner, Ripley. You’ve got me. The only thing you’re gonna do is pull me in deeper by dropping that guard and tossing those inhibitions aside. Can you do that?”
When he puts it like that . . . “Yeah, I can.”
I situate myself on top of Boone and do exactly that.
25
Boone
When I decided to make the impromptu trip home with Ripley, I totally forgot the rodeo was Saturday night. It closes the season and is a big event for the town, which means the Thrasher family always shows up in full force.
“You ever been to the rodeo, Ripley?” Ma asks as we walk toward the gates at the edge of the fairgrounds.
“No, ma’am. I haven’t. I’ve always wanted to go, though.”
“You’re in for a treat. But get ready, everyone will want to see Boone.”
“Shouldn’t you have security with you here?” Ripley asks me quietly, concern in her voice.
“Nah. Not here. If someone tried to pull some shit, the entire town would be on them in a heartbeat. This is probably the safest place I could be, other than at home.”
“Are you sure?”
I think it’s sweet that she’s so worried about me. “Sugar, despite what you think, I can handle myself if something goes down.”
“If you say so.” The disbelief in her tone makes me want to prove it to her, but I’m beyond the stage in my life where I go looking for a fight.
“Boone’s a hometown hero,” my dad says. “He’s done so much for this place, they’ve even dedicated the new baseball stadium to him. Thrasher Field has a great ring to it.”
“Seriously?”
I don’t usually talk about all the charitable stuff I do, because that’s not why I do it.
“I was home one weekend, and Kyle and I decided to swing by the field and catch a tournament game. The old baseball diamond where I used to play was a wreck. The bleachers were empty because people were terrified they were going to collapse. It wasn’t right, so I offered to help.”