Real Sexy (Real Dirty Duet #2)(46)

I bolt upright, my head swiveling around. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to-"

One thickly muscled arm wraps around me and pulls me against his hard chest.

"I'm fine. It's okay. Calm down, sugar." He presses a kiss to my hair and holds me close.

With my ear to his chest, I listen to the strong, even beat of his heart and take comfort in every thump. "I'm so fucking glad you're okay." His arm loosens when I speak, and I look up at him. "Don't scare me like that again. I'm not sure I can handle it."

His blue eyes stare down at me with an expression I can't quite identify. "I think you've already handled more than most people will in a lifetime." His voice goes quiet. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you get away with not saying you love me."

My eyebrows shoot up. "You remember."

Boone nods slowly. "Of course I remember. I don't forget anything about you, and especially not something like that."

My heart hammers now, so hard that I'm afraid tachycardia might be imminent.

"I was trying to get you to sleep. It was just-"

"Shhh. You can hold it in for as long as you need. I'll be waiting, sugar."

His gaze is soft, and I can read in it all the things he's not saying.

He's falling in love with me.

I swallow back the lump in my throat, trying to control my rioting emotions.



       
         
       
        

Boone's stomach sends up a loud, perfectly-timed growl, and Buford hops to his feet and lays his chin on the bed. Boone and I both reach out to pet him, and our hands collide.

"I bet you'd tell me if I got you a puppy."

"Don't you dare. I already have a foul-mouthed parrot living at your house."

"We'll see."

I roll out of bed, ready to change the subject. "We need to get you fed."

"Shower first," he says, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

"You have to be careful with the staples."

"Then I guess you're going to have to help me," Boone says with a wink, looking way too incredibly attractive for someone who got kicked in the head by a bull not even twelve hours ago.

"All right, superstar. Sponge bath, it is."



* * *



I didn't actually give Boone a sponge bath, but I did help him make sure he followed the care instructions for his head wound.

When we make our way to the house, the scent of bacon and sugary sweetness hits my nose.

"Ma must've gone all out, because that smells like her homemade sticky buns and bacon."

The deep timbre of Boone's voice carries through the house, and Mrs. Thrasher sticks her head out of the kitchen. The smile that sweeps over her features is enough to light up the whole house.

"Thank the Lord." She comes toward us, and Boone wraps her in a hug.

"Sorry to scare you, Ma."

"You've been scaring the life out of me since you were five years old and climbed onto the roof of the barn because Grant said you could fly."

"Oh my God, he didn't . . ." I'm picturing a Kyle-sized Boone on the roof, and it's enough to give me a heart attack.

"He only broke one leg. The two mattresses they'd stolen off their beds cushioned most of the fall."

Oh my God.

"That's what happens when you have boys," Boone says, like it's no big deal that he could have died at five.

Boone's mom looks to me. "You better hope you have girls. Boone will keep them wrapped up in cotton batting and never let them out of his sight."

Boone's arm comes around me, and I wonder if he can feel the tense set of my shoulders.

"Now you're scaring Ripley, Ma. I haven't even gotten her to admit she's my girlfriend, so if you skip right to babies, you might send her running for the hills."

Mrs. Thrasher shoots me a wink. "I think she's made of stronger stuff than that. Come on, I've been keeping the sticky buns warm in the oven for you, and I suppose if you give me a hug, I'll share my bacon too." 



* * *



Four hours later, Boone has finally proven to his family that he's okay.

"Ripley and I have to head back to Nashville so she can work tomorrow, and I've got a couple interviews I shouldn't miss."

"Interviews? Are they going to make you famous?" Kyle asks.

Boone laughs, and Wendy ruffles Kyle's hair. "Your uncle Boone is already famous, kiddo."

"No, he's not. He plays catch with me in the yard. Famous people don't do that."

Good point, little man. A smile tugs at my lips. Boone is definitely not your average celebrity. Seeing him here with his parents and nephew, I have a whole new outlook on who he really is.