by Katie Lane
“You are a tool,” she said teasingly.
He laughed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
She grinned, but her smile faded quickly. “You’re right, you know? I don’t really care about hardware. I bought my house thinking I’d renovate it and, in the process, not just sell tools but learn how to use them. I haven’t fixed one thing in my house. It turns out I would much rather read then renovate. I have a bad reading habit.”
“That’s okay, Em. I have a bad tool habit.”
Which was why Boone should own a hardware store. And not just any hardware store, but the same hardware store his grandfather started. Deep down she had always known this. But comfort and a need to get back at Boone had kept her from letting go of the store. Even now, she had a hard time releasing it. What would she do if she didn’t have Simple Hardware to go to every day? It had been the one constant in her life. Her fallback plan.
Without the store, she had no plan. And she’d never been without a plan.
Boone got up and tossed the rest of the cone in the trash. “Come on, Em. I don’t want to be on a bicycle with no lights when the sun goes down. I love the folks in this town, but I don’t trust their driving.”
Twilight was just setting when Boone pulled the bike up to the curb in front of her parents’ house. She jumped off and tried to stretch the kinks out of her muscles. When she glanced up, Boone was watching her.
“I’m sorry, Em.” Something in his eyes told her that he wasn’t talking about her sore butt.
He had apologized for prom night before. Once when he’d first returned to Simple after college, and again at the store after she’d told Cheyenne about crying at prom. But Emma hadn’t been ready to accept his apology either time.
She was now.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I shouldn’t have let one night ruin our friendship.”
He studied her. “Do you think we can be friends again?”
“We already are, Boone. We just took a short intermission.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Short?”
“In comparison to the rest of our lives, yes.” She gave him one last smile before she headed up the path to her parents’ front door. “Thanks for the ride and the ice cream, Boone Murphy,” she called over her shoulder.
“Anytime, Emma Johansen. But if we’re going to make a habit of it, I need to get a better bike. My calves are killing me.”
She stopped and turned. “Are you saying I’ve gained a little weight?”
“Yes.” He winked. “But in all the right places.” He pushed off and pedaled across the street like she had seen him do a thousand times before. After opening up the garage door, he waved and pushed his bike inside. When he was gone, she headed into her parents’ house to get the boxes she wanted to keep.
She carried out three boxes and put them in the trunk of her car.
One full of trophies, one full of books . . . and the last full of Boone keepsakes.
Chapter Sixteen
Friends.
It wasn’t what Boone had had in mind. But if that’s all Emma could offer, he was willing to take it. Of course, it would have to be a long-distance friendship. He couldn’t live in Simple and watch her fall in love and marry someone else. Not when just the thought made his chest feel like it was being squeezed in a vise. But before he left, he wanted to do something for Emma. She had always talked about expanding the store so they could carry more inventory. If she had the space next to the hardware store, she could expand and carry anything she wanted.
Now all he had to do was get Jolene Applegate to hop onboard. And she was one uptight woman. She sat behind her desk looking at him as if he were some kind of spider who had just crawled into her space. A cluttered space. Her desk was covered with coffee mugs, pens, stacks of files and books, and more reading glasses than Boone had ever seen in his life. For a woman who always acted so prim and proper, he was surprised by the messiness of her workspace.
“So let me get this straight, Mr. Murphy,” she said. “You want me to give you a loan using your grandfather’s land as collateral? And then you want to use the money to pay off your parents and buy the space right next to the hardware store?”
He smiled. “That about sums it up. And it’s Boone, Jolene. You’ve known me since I was in diapers. In fact, I think I remember my mom mentioning that you babysat me once when I was a baby. So you probably changed those diapers.”
Her cheeks flushed pink and she cleared her throat. “Yes, well . . .” She let the sentence drift off as she pushed up the glasses that had slipped to the tip of her nose. “I just have to ask you a few questions.”
For the next five minutes, she asked him question after question while she typed away on her keyboard. When she was finished, she swiveled her chair back to him. “That should do it. There shouldn’t be a problem giving you a loan. Your grandfather’s property is worth a good sum and you have excellent credit. Of course, the final decision will be my father’s. He has to okay every loan and he’s the one who owns the space next to the hardware store. But I think he’ll be more than willing to sell it. I’ll have him take a look at your application and I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Jolene.” He started to get up, but she stopped him.
“I know it’s none of my business . . . Boone. But are you planning on expanding the hardware store? The last time I talked with Emma, she mentioned that you two hadn’t decided who was going to get the business.”
“We’ve decided now. It’s Emma’s.”
Jolene looked surprised. “She’s getting married?”
So Emma had told her book buddies about their little bet. “No. I just decided that I don’t want the store.” He was surprised at how easily the lie slipped out of his mouth. Which was good. He needed practice before he had to convince his parents that he cared nothing about the hardware store that had been in his family for decades.
Jolene looked thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand. You don’t want the store, but you want a loan.”
“The loan is for Emma. She told me she couldn’t get a loan so I’m getting one for her so she can buy the store from our parents.”
She stared at him. “And you’re buying the space for her?”
He shrugged. “She wants it.” He leaned closer. “But I’d appreciate it if you kept this surprise between you and me, Jolene. Especially if I don’t get the loan.”
Jolene’s eyes misted over. For a second, he worried she was going to burst out in tears. Instead, she took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. “I’m going to give you the loan.” She turned back to her computer and started typing fast and furious.
“But I thought you said you had to run it by your father first.”
“To hell with my father.” The cuss word had Boone’s eyes widening. Obviously, he’d misjudged Jolene. The woman had some fire in her. If the angry way she was punching the keys was any indication, she had a lot.
“I’m tired of my father playing God and turning down loans for people who really deserve them,” she continued. “My mother’s family owned this bank. I figure it’s as much mine as it is his.” She adjusted her glasses and continuing typing. “In fact, I’m not only going to okay your loan, I’m going to okay Cal Daily’s loan. And if my daddy doesn’t like it, that’s just tough turkey!”
Boone didn’t say a word. After years of working with Emma, he’d learned when to keep his mouth shut and let women work out their anger on their own. Jolene looked like she had a lot of anger to work out. Boone was just glad he and Cal were benefiting from it.
After he left the bank, he drove all the way to Austin to a specialty lumberyard to get the wood for Miss Gertie’s cross. He chose a piece of hard, sturdy hickory that had been treated so it would last a long while. Hickory wood reminded him of Miss Gertie—rough bark on the outside and a beautiful rich vein of color on the inside.
When he got back home, he took the piece of lumber into the garage and st
arted working. He took his time sawing, planing, and shaping the wood. He wasn’t just making the cross for Miss Gertie. He was making it for the entire town of Simple. It would be the last thing he made for the good folks of his childhood home and he wanted it to represent all the love he held in his heart for them.
He worked until it grew dark and only stopped when Romeo started whining for his supper. Boone stood back and looked at the cross. Except for some sanding and a protective wood stain, it was finished. He was proud of it. Damn proud.
“Come on, Romeo,” he said. “Let’s get something to eat.”
After filling the dog bowl with food, he heated one of the book club meals he’d frozen and ate it before he headed upstairs to the bathroom to shower off the sawdust. He was pulling on a pair of sweats after he’d showered when he happened to glance at the window. Only one light was on at Emma’s house. Her bedroom light. And surprisingly, she hadn’t closed her blinds.
He quickly finished pulling on the sweatpants and went to reach for his binoculars when he stopped. He shouldn’t do this. Seeing Emma naked was not a good idea. It would be like a starving man watching a steak sizzling on the grill and knowing that he could never have it.
But it turned out that starving men were gluttons for punishment.
He picked up the binoculars and adjusted the focus.
Emma stood in front of her dresser with her back to him, but he could still see her reflection in the mirror. He didn’t know if he was thrilled or devastated that she wasn’t naked. When he saw what she was wearing, he settled on devastated.
She wore a blue sequined dress. The same dress she’d worn on prom night.
His breath got stuck in his lungs. She’d kept the dress? He thought she would’ve burned it. But there it was glittering like pale blue diamonds in the overhead light. He leaned closer to the window and watched as she pinned her hair into a halo of light blond curls on her head. When she finished, she picked up a tube of lipstick and painted her lips a deep red. The last thing she did was open a little box on the dresser and pull something out. Before he could tell what it was, Romeo jumped up on his legs and caused the binoculars to jiggle. By the time he refocused, Emma had stepped back to look at herself in the mirror.
It was prom night all over again. But this time, he wasn’t the wounded young man who was so absorbed with his own troubled thoughts that he couldn’t see the sweet, beautiful girl whose heart he was breaking.
He saw that girl now. And his own heart broke at the pain he had caused her. He knew there was no going back and fixing what he’d done. He also knew that her putting on the dress didn’t mean anything. She was just trying to find closure for that night so she could move on. But before she moved on, he wanted to replace the bad memories with just one good one.
And maybe he didn’t just want that for Em.
Maybe he wanted it for himself.
The dress fit.
Barely.
It was more than a little snug across the boobs and butt. If Emma sat down, she didn’t doubt for a second that she’d bust some stitches. But she didn’t plan to sit. She headed downstairs.
In the living room, she lit the candles on the mantel before she asked Alexa to play Taylor Swift.
Then Emma danced.
She danced like she had never danced before. It was frenzied and a little manic, but it was also freeing. Prom night had just been one night, and yet, she had let it rule her life for so many years. But she wasn’t going to let it rule her anymore. She was through with the eleven-year-long pity party she’d been throwing herself. She was through punishing Boone. And she was through punishing herself.
She danced through one song, then she kicked off her tight high heels and danced through two more. She had just started dancing to “You Belong With Me” when the doorbell rang.
She froze with her arms in the air. Since it was almost ten o’clock at night on a Tuesday, Emma didn’t have a clue who it could be. Most everyone in town was in bed by nine on the weekdays. Unless something bad had happened. Forgetting about the way she was dressed, she hurried to the door.
The man standing on her porch completely took her by surprise.
It was Boone. Except he didn’t look like the Boone she was used to seeing. He wore a dark suit, white dress shirt, and a tie. And his messy hair was combed back from his high forehead in dark blond waves. In his hand, he held a bouquet of flowers from her flowerbed.
He held the orange and pink Shasta daisies out. “Sorry, I’m late, Em. I got a little lost on the way. But I’m here now.”
She blinked. “What are you doing, Boone?”
“The same thing you are, Emma.” He smiled sadly. “Letting go of the past.”
She could’ve asked how he knew what she’d been doing, but she didn’t need to. Deep down, she’d always known that Boone spied on her like she spied on him. Maybe that’s why she’d left the blinds open in her room. Maybe she’d wanted a redo all along.
She took the flowers from him and held them to her nose before she lowered them and smiled. “Thank you. And you’re not late. The party is just getting started.”
Boone stepped inside and cringed. “So I guess the playlist for the night is Taylor Swift.”
She shrugged. “Hey, it’s my party and I’ll Tay-Tay if I want to.”
He rolled his eyes and she laughed as she headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. When she got back to the living room, she discovered that Boone had pushed back the couch and chairs to make a bigger dance floor.
With a hesitant smile, he held out his hand. “Can I have this dance, Em?”
So they danced.
They danced to Tay-Tay, but also to the soundtrack of their youth—Rascal Flatts, Carrie Underwood, Kenny Chesney, and Tim McGraw. They kept the songs fast and upbeat and a safe distance between each other. Boone would occasionally take her hand and twirl her, but that was the only touching they did . . . until Emma asked Alexa to play more Taylor Swift and “Love Story” came on.
Their smiles faded and they stared at each other as their breaths heaved in and out from their dancing.
Finally, Boone broke the silence.
“Just one slow one, Em.”
She hesitated only a second before she stepped into his arms. He had taken off his jacket and his shirt was damp with sweat. The scent of Downy enveloped her. She tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders and he awkwardly placed his on her waist. Even that light contact was too much. She felt off-kilter, like the world had tipped on its axis, while the words of their song told the story of a young girl begging the love of her life to please don’t go.
She didn’t know she was crying until Boone spoke.
“Please don’t cry, Em.” His hand slid into her hair and he tipped her head up until their gazes met. His eyes were tortured and pleading. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” He leaned in and kissed a tear from her cheek.
It had been too long since she’d felt Boone’s lips on her. Too long since she’d felt his breath fall against her skin. He kissed one tear away and then another and another. It was sweet and heartbreaking . . . and hot. Desire swirled to life and spread through her body like a mind-altering drug, erasing all the reasons why she should push him away.
Her hands tightened into fists around his shirt as his lips trailed over her cheeks to her neck. She could tell by the difference in his breathing that he felt the desire too. When he finally drew back, the tortured look was gone, replaced by a molten green gaze that made her heart quicken even more.
“Em,” he said in a breathy whisper before he lowered his head.
The kiss was light and hesitant, very similar to the first kiss he had ever given her. But when she melted against him and opened her mouth, his lips became much more demanding. No one kissed like Boone. And no one ever would. Emma was consumed by the scorching heat of his mouth as he fed her long, deep kisses that left her breathless and begging for more.
Somewhere in the haze of desire, her dress s
lipped to the floor, followed by her bra and panties. Then Boone’s hands were on her, touching and caressing and driving her even wilder than she already was. When they’d made love before, she had been in charge. Now there was no doubt that Boone was.
Gone was the fumbling boy, and in his place, was a man who knew exactly where and how to touch a woman to drive her insane. He was gentle where she needed him to be gentle and rough where she needed him to be rough. He softly caressed her breasts, but then sucked and nipped her nipples until she moaned. He tightly gripped her butt cheeks, but then lightly fingered the tender spot between her legs. When his skilled touch had turned her into nothing but a limp mass of tingling desire, he picked her up and carried her over to the couch.
Once he had her positioned against the cushions, he spread her legs and knelt between them. His hot green gaze held hers as he lowered his mouth to her quivering center.
The first time they made love, it had taken a while for her to reach orgasm. This time, just a few flicks of his tongue sent her over the edge of the best orgasm she’d had in her life. It was like multiple explosions were simultaneously detonated throughout her body all at the same time. She yelled out a garbled confusion of “Yes!” and “Oh, Gods!” as she tightened her thighs and held him in place.
When she finally became coherent, she opened her eyes to find Boone sitting on the floor staring at her. She felt more than a little embarrassed—not only because she’d climaxed so loudly but also because she was naked when he was still completely clothed. Before she could reach for the throw blanket, he leaned up and lifted the plastic ring that hung on a chain around her neck.
“What’s this?”
She’d forgotten all about the ring until now. It was the one thing she hadn’t been able to throw away after prom night. It hurt that he didn’t remember it.
“Nothing.” She tried to pull the ring from him, but he closed his hand around it and refused to let go. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes shone with something that took her breath away.