Zero Forks - Cat Johnson Page 0,11

Boone.

Boone. He was like a force of nature. He blew his way into my life and there was nothing I could do about it. Not if the way Stewie cried when we had to say goodbye to him yesterday was any indication.

Stewie’s immediate reaction to Boone was unexpected, but not completely out of the realm of understanding.

The kid had so few males in his life, it was no surprise he’d latched on to Boone, who I’d bet acted like a kid himself most times.

Stewie’s reaction to Boone was not half as shocking as my own.

Boone woke up parts of my lady-anatomy I wished had stayed sleeping.

He was the reason there was my old standby vibrator hidden deep in my suitcase, beneath the business suits and my ugliest pajamas, because the last thing I wanted to do was attract the attention of the much too young man living in my house by wearing something sexy to sleep.

I so wasn’t ready for that.

Not that it mattered. I wasn’t ready for any of this. Not the tiny human I was responsible for keeping alive and well. Not a big old house when I was used to apartment-living with a building superintendent on call twenty-four/seven. And not this alien town where people were inhumanly nice.

None of that mattered because ready or not, today I was moving into an old riverfront Victorian in Mudville—a place I’d never heard of before yesterday. And the hottest male I’d ever laid eyes on was going to be my live-in babysitter.

God help me, how old was Boone anyway?

Too young was the answer my common sense delivered.

Meanwhile my damn libido pondered what an acceptable age for the paramour of a woman about to turn forty might be.

That was the last thought I needed in my head as I drove down the highway’s exit ramp and turned onto Main Street in Mudville.

My trunk was packed nearly to exploding with my luggage, while Stewie’s things were crammed in to fill the floor and the parts of the backseat his car seat didn’t occupy. My purse and my laptop case occupied the passenger seat in front, along with some supplies I’d scavenged in my apartment’s kitchen.

I’d have to unload the car and then go back out to shop for more food. At least the basics. Milk and some sort of kid-friendly cereal for Stewie for the morning. Maybe frozen pizza for us for dinner tonight.

Pulling up to the house, I saw Boone’s truck was already parked there and my mixed feelings twisted once again within me. I hated that my heart sped at the sight of seeing him again, even as I dreaded it.

With him came the added stress of having a constant distraction.

I’d been hoping to have a few hours in the house before I had to deal with Boone—the walking, talking testosterone lollipop that tempted me to take a lick.

On the bright side—a side I didn’t often look for, or so I’d been told by my last long-term boyfriend right before he dumped me—Boone being here meant he could watch Stewie while I went out grocery shopping alone.

That would make the task I dreaded on a normal day, when I didn’t have a child in tow, so much easier.

I pulled up as close to the front door as I could, figuring it would make unloading easier. I hadn’t packed all of my belongings, only what I was going to need for the near future, but looking at the overflowing car, it was a lot of stuff.

Oh well. The house was certainly big enough to accommodate what I’d brought, plus more. I’d seen that during the tour Boone had given me yesterday. Not that I remembered all that much of yesterday. It had been such a whirlwind.

And good lord, who knew little boys had so much stuff? The sheer amount of Stewie’s toys alone was mind boggling. And here I thought I’d get away with sitting him in front of Sesame Street all day.

I was so unprepared for this gig it would be funny if it wasn’t tragically serious.

My poor sister. She deserved to know her child was safe as she went traipsing around the world for the next six months.

Good thing I was well schooled in being convincing even when my own self-doubt could choke a horse.

With that thought in mind I glanced up and saw Boone as the front door swung wide. Talk about a thoroughbred.

Damn, if I’d known they grew men like him in the country, I might not