Love Me Forever - Juliana Stone Page 0,13
set foot in the place had been the day his father died.
He bypassed the house and followed the path down to the water and boathouse. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and hauled out a chair to the dock. He plunked his butt down, took a good long swig, and tried like hell to let the tension that tightened his shoulders slip away.
It was peaceful out here, though the odd voice traveled across the water, excited people celebrating the coming Independence Day. He remembered another night just like this one, and a girl with big eyes and dark auburn hair who’d kissed him and made him feel things he’d never felt before.
Boone wondered about that. Then he wondered if maybe he’d never feel that way again. He thought about that for a bit and then decided to get good and drunk so he wouldn’t wonder about shit he couldn’t change.
With a plan in mind, he took another swig and got down to business.
Chapter Five
Poppy slept like crap. It had been a late night, for sure, but still, she shouldn’t feel this tired.
She downed her second cup of coffee, frowned, and shook her head. Had to have been the wine, and dammit, she knew she was a lightweight. If she hadn’t been in such a mood, maybe she would have stopped after two glasses. Mabel cocked her head and gave her a look along with a bark that said it all. Her dog knew her better than most humans. Poppy reached down and scratched behind her ears.
“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “He can do what he wants.” Poppy scooped her bag off the counter in the kitchen and headed for the front door. “With whoever the hell he wants to do it with.” She lifted an eyebrow along with her chin. “You coming, Mabel?”
The dog followed her out into an already hot and humid morning, and with a haze shimmering across the sky, Poppy knew it was only going to get worse, which was why she’d pulled a light and loose cotton sundress over her bikini. The off-white dress did nothing to hide the neon-green-and-black bathing suit beneath it, but with her offer to volunteer for Molly’s adoption float in the parade and then a plan to head out to the lake afterward, she’d decided to streamline things.
She tossed a bag with a change of clothes into the back of her beat-up and faded red Toyota and waited until Mabel got herself situated on the seat beside her. She pulled out of the driveway and automatically took a right toward her mother’s place.
“Shoot,” she sighed, glancing down at Mabel. “I’m really out of it. Mom’s home, so I don’t need to feed her cats.” Mabel’s ears twitched as if she understood exactly what Poppy had just said, and her adorable expression earned another behind-the-ear scratch.
When they came to the four-way stop at Cedar and Monroe, Poppy signaled a right turn, but then she glanced to the right and took a moment, drumming her fingers along the top of the steering wheel. Before she could stop herself, she changed directions and headed left on Cedar.
She drove for a minute or so until she was nearly to the end and then slowed as she approached the last intersection, the one just past Emily Davenport’s place. With large sunglasses covering half her face, she turned slightly and felt her stomach dive when she spied Boone, shirtless and sweaty and looking way too damn good for this early in the morning. Jean shorts barely hung on hips that could make a nun’s toes curl, and his washboard abs glistened in the sun. A tattoo she’d never seen before curled around his left side and crawled along his rib cage. It was black, some sort of tribal thing, and on him, well, it looked just about perfect. On his feet were beat-up work boots, the kind construction workers wore, but on Boone, they looked…oh God, he looked good.
Why does he have to look so good?
Mouth dry, she squeaked when he rolled his neck and shoulders and glanced toward the road, but it was only for a second, and then he got back to the business of mowing the lawn.
Skin hot and as flushed as Boone Avery looked, Poppy sped past Emily’s house. By the time she reached the downtown staging area for the parade, her fingers were cramped from holding the steering wheel too tightly. She parked the car and started walking.
“You look like you’re