Which is exactly what he probably planned. Diabolical man.
"Are you coming back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, Uncle Boone?"
"You know I wouldn't miss them for the world. But I might have to work, so they could be short trips."
"If you don't come, I'm gonna eat all of Lala's mashed potatoes."
Boone swings Kyle up into his arms. "I can't let that happen. Looks like I'll be here for sure, just to make sure I get some."
He squeezes the little boy to his chest before setting him down and crouching in front of Wendy's belly.
"Listen up, little guys or girls or little guy and little girl. You stay cookin' as long as you need. We'll be ready to meet you when you decide you're ready."
"Now you're talking to them like you talked to Ky?"
"Of course. They gotta know their uncle Boone's voice when they come out. That way when I hold them at the hospital, they'll fall asleep like little angels in my arms."
Wendy rolls her eyes, but it takes everything I have to keep my ovaries intact. Since when did I think it was drop-dead sexy for a man to like babies?
Oh, right, since forever. Me and every woman in the history of ever.
Kyle throws his arms around my waist while I'm still recovering from my mental picture of Boone holding a newborn. I hug him back and ruffle his hair.
When Kyle releases me, he turns back to Boone. "Make sure to bring Ms. Ripley too. I like her. She's pretty, and she smells nice too."
Boone comes toward me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and bringing me against his side in what has become a regular move of his.
"Damn right, I'll bring her back. You've got good taste, kid."
Kyle throws himself at me one more time, and I give him another hard squeeze.
"It was good to meet you, buddy."
He bounces from me to Boone once more, and I can't keep the smile off my face. The grip I've been keeping on my heart slips another notch at the thought of so easily sliding into their family.
"You make sure you let Ripley drive. I don't care how much you love that truck, it's doctor's orders." Boone's dad steps into the living room after refusing my help to load our suitcases in the truck.
"Dad, I'm fine."
Mr. Thrasher crosses to me and picks up my hand before dropping the keys in it and closing my fingers around them. "Ripley's driving."
A chuckle works its way out of my throat. "Don't worry. I won't scratch her."
"Be safe, both of you." This comes from Boone's mom.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll make sure he calls you when we get back to Nashville."
"Thank you for taking such good care of my boy, Ripley." She comes toward me and wraps me in a hug. "You're always welcome here. Always."
The burn of emotion works its way up the back of my throat and tingles behind my eyes.
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that."
Mrs. Thrasher pulls back and meets my eyes. "He won't break your heart. I taught him better than that," she whispers before releasing me.
Buford meets us at the truck, and I drop to my knees to snuggle him one last time. "I'm gonna miss you too."
"Probably not as much as he's going to miss you." Boone gives the dog a good long scratch behind the ears before holding out a hand to me.
Buford gives my face a lick, and I kiss his silky head before letting Boone haul me to my feet.
"Don't worry, you'll be seeing him again. I promised Ky I'd bring you back, and I'm a man of my word," Boone says as he opens the driver's door of his truck.
Do I dare believe him? What his mom said echoes through my head. "He won't break your heart."
I guess we'll find out.
31
Boone
One of the security guys waves at us as we drive through the gate, and I remember it's Sunday and Anthony's day off.
He better have made sure Esteban got breakfast.
Ripley shifts the truck into park once she brings it to a stop in the garage. "Is it weird that this is actually one of the better birthdays I've had?"
My gaze cuts in her direction.
"What did you say?" The words come out a lot harsher than I intended, but that fits with the level of my shock.
"I said it's one of the better birthdays-"
"Why the hell didn't you tell me it's your birthday?"
Ripley shrugs. "I don't know. It wasn't a big deal. It never is."
I look up at the headliner, asking the Lord to send me down some patience so I don't shake this woman.
"How am I supposed to do something special for you if you don't frigging tell me it's your birthday?"