“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I know. If someone had left all the designing up to me, I probably would’ve had antlers everywhere, but my decorator put the smackdown on that.”
He brings me through a huge mud room, an insanely gorgeous kitchen that I barely have time to appreciate, and down a long hallway with a high ceiling. At the end of the hall, he walks into a massive bedroom with what has to be a California king in the center with a frame made of logs and leather.
It’s so completely Boone.
“Wow. This is ... nice.” Inwardly I’m cringing, thinking about the fact that he was in my shitty little apartment.
But at least you had your apartment then. Now your stuff is in boxes and a duffel bag next to a futon in your best friend’s living room.
The world of difference between our situations couldn’t be more obvious, and yet Boone isn’t flashy about his money. Law had waited a whole thirty seconds before he told me his salary to try to impress me. I’ve never heard Boone talk about money ... ever.
Maybe that’s because he has so much, it’s not something he even thinks about.
Boone lowers me onto the bed. “You’re staying in here.”
“But this is your room.” My tone takes on a hint of panic.
“Good eye.”
“I can’t stay in here. With you.”
Boone crosses both arms over his chest. “Why the hell not?”
“Because I can’t. That’s not— It just— I can’t.”
Boone tugs off his ball cap and drops it on top of a nightstand before running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “It’s too late to argue about this. Let’s wash up, get some sleep, and figure it out in the morning.”
I’m not trying to be ungrateful—really, I’m not—but I can’t share a bed with Boone. I know we slept together, but this is intimacy on a whole different level.
“But—”
“You’ve got a sprained ankle and you’re wearing a damn Aircast. It’s not like I’m gonna try to fuck you tonight, Rip. We both need sleep.”
My nipples, traitorous little bitches that they are, perk up when he saystry to fuck you. Boone doesn’t miss it.
“No matter how bad I want to.”
The heat blazing in his blue eyes sears me. For long moments, I meet his stare, and with each passing second, that heat spreads through my body.
What is it about this man that sets me off like no one ever has before?It’s not fair that I have no control over my physical reactions when it comes to Boone.
I swallow, wishing he’d say something.
“You’re killing me, sugar. You keep looking at me like that, and I won’t be able to keep my word.” His tone is husky, dripping with promise, and I’m seconds away from giving in.
Surprisingly, Boone breaks our stare first, turning and jamming his hands in his pockets. When he turns back around a few moments later, the heat is banked.
“I’ll carry you into the bathroom and you can do your thing. Holler if you need any help. There’s probably an extra toothbrush in the bottom drawer. Housekeeper stashes them in every bathroom.”
Without any more discussion, he picks me up off the bed and takes me to a bathroom bigger than my apartment. Well, my old apartment. After Boone carefully lowers my feet to the floor, he shuts the door behind me, and I hobble to the toilet and sit down on the lid.
What am I doing here?
Taking a deep breath, I pull up my metaphorical big-girl panties and do what I need to do. With my face washed and teeth brushed, I open the door to find Boone tossing a T-shirt and sweats on the bed. Both massive.
“You can change while I’m in there.” He picks me up and moves me back to the bed before tossing the clothes closer to me. “This is the best I could do on short notice. I’ll be back in a few.” The words are stilted, missing the easiness I’m used to from him.