Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,11

stacked against the back wall of the garage. Boone’s back was to her. He bent to grab a couple chunks of wood and she bit her lower lip.

She had no right—no right—to ogle his ass. But he had a fine one. It wasn’t hard to look at, unlike his eyes. Eyes that hinted at a well of emotion she could drown in. Eyes that were concerned for her.

But his ass was safe to look at.

Her face heated. She’d been down the road of unthinking desire and she couldn’t go down it again. Boone didn’t deserve it.

“Boone.”

He stiffened, his head cutting to the side, but not quite looking over his shoulder. Frost covered his beard and the hair closest to his face.

“I made supper.” She shifted her weight to her other foot. “And I showered.”

That made him turn around, his lips tugging down. “Is your head wet?”

“It’s dry. You’ve been gone awhile.” She pointed her finger straight up. “It’s almost dark.”

He cocked a brow. “Really?”

She caught the dry sarcasm and her small chuckle surprised her. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to talk to people.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Me too.”

They stared at each other. Other than his red cheeks and the red tip of his nose, he didn’t act like the cold affected him. The gloves he wore must’ve been an extra pair in the garage. Without them, he would’ve been frostbitten by now, or worse.

She didn’t want him to get hurt because of her.

He dropped the hunk of wood. “You cooked?”

“I guess it’s time to enter the land of the living.”

His lack of a reply unnerved her. She hadn’t asked to be rescued, but she felt like she owed him something.

“I can’t tell you what happened.” He wouldn’t believe her anyway. “I tried my entire life to be a good person, to protect others. I tried my whole life to make my father proud, but in the end, I did something that got someone I admire hurt.”

Her whole team could’ve been killed.

Again, Boone didn’t reply right away.

“I knew someone like that. She tried to be a good person. In the end, it wasn’t enough.” Hurt resonated in his voice.

He didn’t like the person he spoke of. Would he hate her too?

“I like to think that if she got a second chance, she’d do better. What about you, Sierra? Are you going to do better?”

She didn’t answer right away. He might think that type of question should have an immediate answer, but he’d also had to yell at her to shower. “I want to. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how.” Her worries spilled out, the real reason she’d been afraid to do more than stare at a wall. “I have no money. I have no home. No clothes. I should probably change my name.”

No one should want to find her, but her sensible side, the trained warrior side, told her that to protect those around her, she should ditch everything about her old life.

“I don’t have any documents,” she continued. “No papers to prove who I am and who I’m not. I don’t know how to apply for a job, or how I’ll get paid. I don’t know anything, Boone. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

She hated how frantic her voice got the more she spoke. But her situation was dire. Other fallen had managed to drag themselves out of the gutter. But more had succumbed to their circumstances for the very reasons she’d named.

She’d tried succumbing, but Boone hadn’t let her. He hadn’t let her be a coward. She couldn’t backtrack now.

“There’s more snow on the way.”

She looked at the cloudy sky. The air smelled like pine and snow, but she was surrounded by both. Did he have an innate sense about the weather or better cell service than she’d thought?

“I don’t want to risk getting stranded in town, but when the weather passes and the roads clear, we can deal with the clothing issue.”

“I can’t let you—”

“I couldn’t help my wife. Let me help you.” His jaw flexed so hard she wouldn’t be shocked if teeth cracked. The person who’d failed him had been his wife. Was she alive?

Sierra didn’t think so. “I want to be able to say no, but I don’t even have a pair of underwear to call my own.”

“It’s just money.”

He said it as if throwing money at the problem—her—was fine as long as he didn’t get invested in any other way.

“We’ll get you on your feet, Sierra.

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