Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,49
of the stench.”
“The carpet goes first,” she replied.
“Word,” he agreed.
She started laughing again.
She stopped to tip her head to the side and ask, “Okay, Boone, sheikh’s son?”
He touched his lips to hers, said, “Later,” against them then broke from her, took her hand, and ordered, “Show me where you want the French door.”
She shot him a big smile with bright, shining blue eyes.
And then she showed him where she wanted the French door.
Chapter Nine
Deal
Ryn
My phone ringing woke me.
Strike that.
Hearing Boone mutter a sleepy-gravelly, “Shit,” I knew my phone ringing woke both of us.
I shifted out of the curve of his body when he shifted in order to grab my phone.
By the time I’d turned, got up on an elbow, got a load of tousle-haired Boone in the morning, and dealt with my reaction to that, he’d grabbed my cell and was looking at the screen.
But seeing him there, in my bed, just woken up, and after we’d had a great day yesterday (notwithstanding it starting with a visit from two possibly dirty cops and getting the knowledge a friend of mine had been murdered), I realized I was an anything goes person.
I could be a morning person.
Or I could be a bear in the morning (specifically when someone woke me up early with a phone call after I’d been dancing the night before).
I worked at night, and a lot of the time I was on fire, but that didn’t mean I was a nighttime person. I had to fake it at work some nights when I wasn’t feeling it.
I was getting the sense, however, that if life took me to a place where I woke up next to Boone on a regular basis, I would for sure become a morning person.
I’d wake up every morning, bright as a daisy.
And I’d also be a nighttime person, if I got to fall asleep beside him every night.
This was my thought before he spoke, and I realized maybe I was not correct.
But not because of Boone.
As I was about to find out, it would be because of the usual suspects.
And I found this out when Boone declared, attention on my phone, “I’m not feeling you taking any shit first thing on a Monday morning.”
Before I could say anything—yes, with my cell still ringing in his hand—he carried on.
“In fact, after the last few days you’ve had, I’m not feeling you taking any shit all this week.”
I got my mouth open that time but wasn’t able to use it before he continued.
“Honest to fuck, pretty down with saying, if I have anything to do with it, you now live in a shit-free zone.”
A shit-free zone?
Okay, I was back to being in a good mood.
Because that was sweet, protective and funny.
And I liked all of it.
My phone stopped ringing.
I looked to it. “Who was that?”
“Your not-quite sister-in-law.”
That was a surprise.
And probably not a good one.
“Angelica?” I asked.
Boone didn’t answer because my phone started ringing again.
“Her,” he grunted after glancing at it. Then to me, he asked, “Do you want me to take it?”
For a second, I couldn’t think.
Because, outside my mother, who was often powerless to do what she’d always do if she could stand between me and the shit of life, no one had stood between me and any of the shit of life.
I wasn’t alone.
As I’d noted, I had Mom. Friends. When my brother wasn’t in a booze haze or he wasn’t pissed at me (for no good reason), I had Brian.
But for the most part, I was on my own.
And until that moment, I was down with that.
Mom made me strong.
Life made me strong.
I got on with things as a matter of course.
And I didn’t do too badly at it.
Straight up, if you asked me, I’d tell you I was proud of that part of myself.
Until that moment.
Oh, I was still proud.
But there was something significant, waking up next to Boone, and having him offer to stand between me and something that was sure to be a blow in one form or other.
It was so significant, I couldn’t even speak.
“Ryn,” he prompted when I didn’t answer.
I kinda wanted to see what he’d say to Angelica if he took that call.
But for me, Portia and Jethro were on the line, my position was precarious when it came to them, so I couldn’t test those waters.