“She’s my friend.”
“But it’s her marriage. And who knows what happened, and why?”
Sarah’s jaw jutted. “Olivia said he cheated, Boone, on Alyssa constantly.”
“Olivia is a gossip. Even Max says his wife is a gossip.”
“She might be a gossip, but if she says everyone on the team knew, she means it. And I have a feeling you knew, too, but you didn’t tell me.”
He said nothing, which just upset Sarah more.
“I can’t believe it,” she said under her breath. “Can’t believe he’d do that to her, and I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me.”
A small muscle pulled in Boone’s jaw. He exhaled slowly. “We’ve had a great couple of weeks . . . do we really want to go down this road?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re making a point—”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You didn’t think Jeff was the kind of man to cheat . . . whereas I am . . . ?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“We’re talking about Jeff and Alyssa.”
“Are we?”
“Yes.”
Boone gave her a long, searching look. “Sometimes I’m not so sure, babe.”
He turned to leave, and Sarah stopped him, snaking an arm around his waist, feeling his warmth through his thin knit shirt, his lower back taut, thickly muscled like the rest of him.
She held on to him this morning out of love and desperation.
He must have felt it, too, because he pulled away from her, as if he couldn’t wait to escape.
She didn’t let go. “Don’t be mad at me,” she whispered. “This stuff scares me.”
“But this stuff isn’t us.”
She nodded and lifted her lips for a kiss. He gave her one, a brief one, and then looking into her eyes, he kissed her again, his lips softening, giving the kiss heat.
Some of the cold, hard ice in her chest melted, and she pressed closer, craving comfort.
He knew how to make her feel good.
But he could also make her feel so bad.
“Got to go, babe,” he said, easing back.
She looked at him, nodded, unable to smile.
“I’ll see you after the game,” he said.
She nodded again.
Boone gave her a good-bye pat on her ass and walked out.
* * *
He walked in.
Lauren straightened abruptly at the café counter, heart doing a quick double thump. God, he was gorgeous . . . and hers.
She smiled shyly as Chris sauntered toward her. “Hi,” she said, nervous for no reason other than that she was excited, and he got her pulse going. “How’s that shoulder? Heard you got a pretty nice bruise.”
“It’s sore, but whatever.” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him and kissed her, right in front of everyone. “So how are you, baby?”
“Good,” she whispered, heart thumping like mad.
“You are so damn beautiful.”
She blushed, grinned. “I should tell you to stop, but I like it.”
He laughed, hugged her to him. “You’re still coming to the game tonight, right? It’s the first game in our series against the Yankees.”
Lauren’s smile faded. “The Yankees?”
“Supposed to be a good series.”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure I can make the game. I’m short on waitstaff for closing. Can I meet you after?”
“Of course. No stress, darling.” He cupped her cheek, warming it. “But you’re still coming home with me tonight? You’re staying all night?”
Her face tingled, hot, and butterflies filled her middle, pushing the Yankees and John Meeks from her mind. “Yes.”
“Just making sure.” He kissed her again. “I’ve got to be at the park early for an interview, so I can’t stay. But I’ll see you tonight.”
Lauren saw stars as he pushed the door open and disappeared into the sunshine. Beautiful, sparkly stars everywhere.
She’d fallen, fallen hard, she thought. If this didn’t work out—
No, wouldn’t think that, not now, not today. She was happy. She liked being happy. Why be sad when she could feel good . . . and it’d been such a long time since she’d felt this good . . .
Lauren was still thinking about Chris and bussing the counter when Boone entered the café fifteen minutes later, jaw set, expression hard.
Lauren had never seen him so upset. “You okay?” she asked as he took a place at the counter.
He nodded once, expression still flinty.
She tipped her head, studying him. “Coffee?”
“Please. And your New York strip with three eggs scrambled.”
She placed his order and brought him water and coffee, then hesitated. “Feel like talking?”