Zero Forks - Cat Johnson Page 0,19

be me who was different, because I certainly felt like something had changed.

I’d put on my favorite suit—oatmeal-colored, with pants rather than a skirt. The hue complemented my coloring. The tailored cut of the jacket emphasized my waist while camouflaging the width of my hips and expansive rear-end.

I refused to think I’d chosen this outfit this morning, out of all the others I’d brought with me to Mudville, because it was my most flattering. Or because I hoped Boone would be up early to see me before I left.

Of course, he was awake, even though Stewie was still sleeping. Boone was up, with coffee brewed, and scrambled eggs and bacon hot on the stove.

He’d promised to get Stewie dressed and fed whenever the boy woke. Then he promised dinner would be ready for me whenever I arrived home tonight.

Home.

Dammit all, that old house was starting to feel like home.

That was the last thing I needed since the house—and Boone—were both temporary. Stop gap measures to get me through my sister’s deployment and my babysitting duties.

I could not covet Boone.

I also couldn’t fire him to remove the temptation of the incredibly hot and much too young man living with me because it was clear he was perfect for the job.

Had it been a sweet older lady who offered to cook and clean and watch Stewie for me day and night for the crazy low amount I was paying Boone, I’d have already locked her down into an iron-clad six-month contract in case I ended up watching Stewie the entire time Liza was away.

But it was Boone. Too tempting. Too hot. Too young . . .

Too handsome. Too shirtless. Too freaking perfect.

I was still trying to feel fully awake after the restless night I’d spent here—partly due to the newness of my surroundings, partly due to the shirt-lessness of my manny—when Kim appeared in my doorway.

“Hey. You all ready to get your nephew tonight? Were you able to find a sitter to watch him during the week?” she asked.

Oh, how things had changed since I’d talked to her last.

I remembered the last we’d discussed the situation had been Friday, when the plan had been for me to drive to get Stewie tonight.

That had been before the phone call Saturday that sent me scrambling to get him early.

I’d told her on Friday that I might have to take Tuesday off, depending on if I was able to hire childcare for Stewie over the weekend, either to watch him at my apartment, or some sort of daycare where I could drop him off on my way to work.

Boy, had my situation altered dramatically. I let out a short laugh at the truth of that.

“Actually, plans have changed completely.” When I saw her frown furrow in concern, I rushed to add, “but it’s all good. You have time to sit? It’s kind of a long story.”

Kim’s brows rose. “In that case, I’m glad I just got a fresh cup of coffee.”

She placed the aforementioned cup on my desk and pulled out the chair.

Settling into the seat she leaned forward, more toward me than her coffee, and said, “Go on. I love a good story.”

I laughed. “Then you’re going to love this.”

By the end of my Mudville tale, which of course included Boone, Kim had her cell phone out. “What was the last name of your hottie manny again? Morgan?”

“What are you doing?” I asked, suspicious.

“Searching Instagram. Boone Morgan. Mudville, NY.” Her thumbs flew over the keyboard as she talked, but I didn’t think she’d find much of anything.

Boone didn’t strike me as a selfie-taking social media kind of guy.

In fact, I rarely saw him with his phone out. I’d noticed that because it was something I was guilty of myself—checking email during meals. Answering texts in the middle of the night when I heard the phone vibrate on the nightstand. Stalking my ex’s social media in moments of weakness or too much wine.

“I doubt you’re going to find—”

“Got him!” Kim grinned triumphantly. Her eyes widened and she turned the cell to face me. “Holy shit. Is this him?”

I glanced at her screen and my heart went pitter-pat.

It was Boone, all right. Dressed in full firefighter gear, which was a surprise. But the face was unmistakable. So was the ever-present grin.

I swallowed. “Uh, yeah. That’s him. I, uh, didn’t know he was a fireman.”

Kim pulled the cell back to look at it herself.

“Members of the Mudville, New York Volunteer Fire Department pose for a picture after