Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,140
figuring it out.”
“You need to be tellin’ her this,” Boone shared.
Brian looked at him. “You know no way in fuck she’s gonna let me lay this on her, man. If it hurts me, to take the pain away, she’s gonna act like it’s all cool. Go to her own pains to do it, so I don’t feel that.”
Yup.
Boone knew that.
“Then you need to make her listen, Brian, because you need to give that to her, and she needs to hear it. She also needs to learn she can’t stop everyone’s pain. Trust me, bud, you do it, you’ll be doin’ her a favor.”
Brian’s gaze wandered back to his sister.
It took a bit.
But then he said, “I’ll find a time.”
“You know it from her, but I’ll say it just so you know it from me too, we’re in this with you, Brian. Your sobriety. Lookin’ after those kids. You need us, we’re there.”
That got him Brian’s attention again. “You two are new.”
“I’m in love with your sister, she’s in love with those kids, and you own a piece of her soul. So she’s in, Brian. And so am I.”
Brian stared at him then shook his head, his lips twitching.
“I really didn’t wanna like you because you’re killer with a goddamn comeback and you’re too good-lookin’. Puts a man ill at ease, his sister’s got her equal. She needs an ugly guy who’ll worship the ground she walks on.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to put up with a good-lookin’ guy who does it.”
Brian’s head jerked.
Then he busted out laughing.
Boone grinned at him and took a sip from his pop, his eyes going to Ryn.
She was standing across the yard, hands on her hips over those cutoff shorts he liked so much, smiling at them.
Jethro was reeling their way, shouting, “What’s funny, Daddy?”
“Boone’s funny, kiddo,” Brian said, setting his pop aside and reaching out to grab his son, and when he had him, he started tickling him.
Jethro shrieked with laughter even though he was squirming so much, his father could barely find purchase.
Then Boone suddenly had to swing wide with his can of pop and catch a seven-year-old before she landed on his junk and made taking care of business with her aunt an impossibility for a week.
Once settled in his lap, Portia turned Ryn’s blue eyes up at him and asked, “Can we have your mac and cheese tonight, Booney?”
He’d become “Booney” the second time she’d been around him.
That being the first time Brian brought the kids over so he could go to a meeting and Boone made them his smoked mac and cheese.
The time he found out that Portia was a flirt.
He’d take any girl with those blue eyes flirting with him, so even though he’d intended to make burgers, he said, “Yeah.”
“Yippee!” she cried.
“But now we gotta go to the grocery store, and it’s getting late, so we should go,” he decreed, pushing up, swinging her up with him, then under his arm, all while she squealed.
“Who’s going with Daddy and who’s going with me and…Booney?” Ryn, who’d walked up to them, asked.
Boone gave her a look.
She sent him a kissy face.
Totally getting a spanking for all that.
“Me!” Portia cried as Boone walked them to the French doors with her dangling under his arm.
“Me!” Jethro yelled, racing ahead to open the doors.
“No one wants to hang with their dad?” Brian asked.
“Me! I’ll hang with you, Daddy!” Portia cried from under Boone’s arm.
“Me too!” Jethro shouted.
Brian won, the kids piling in his double cab truck, while Boone and Ryn got in Boone’s Charger.
“We won’t be spending so much time with them forever, Boone,” Ryn said when they were on their way. “I know you like our Sundays to be laidback days, but—”
“Sweetheart, did I say dick?” he cut her off to ask.
“No.”
“Okay then.”
She shut up.
He drove.
She didn’t say anything.
So he did.
“It’s all good, Rynnie.”
“It is, Boone. It’s all good,” she said in a voice that made him glance her way.
Her face was soft.
“Babe?” he called.
She looked to him.
When he had to look back at the road, she came to him, stretching across and kissing the side of his neck.
Before she returned to her seat, she whispered, “Love you,” in his ear.
His fingers tightened so hard on the steering wheel, it was a wonder they didn’t leave a permanent imprint.
With all that had gone down, she’d never said it.
Neither had he.
“Booney,” she finished.
And Boone didn’t get his chance to return the words.