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“I know,” I breathed, inhaling the scent of two-stroke exhaust still embedded into his skin.
I loved that smell. That was the smell of impulsive action just to get to me, and it meant so much. More than he could possibly know.
His hands settled around me, and we stood there in a motionless dance, our bodies barely skimming, our breath heating the air between us, our foreheads together while dreams and desires of what could never be were shared like unspoken secrets.
“They’re going to be gone until at least midnight. While I can think of a few ways we could pass that time?—”
He bent in, pressing a kiss to the hollow beneath my air and making my whole body tremble.
“—it might be better if we get to know each other better first. So tell me more about you.”
I blinked at this and reared back enough to look into the glimmer of his dark eyes. “More about me?”
“Yes.” He kissed me again. “I want to know everything.”
We settled onto his bed with our backs to the wall and our feet hanging over its end. Boone held my hand while we talked.
I told him how about how close I was to my mom, how even though she got a little insistent at times, she was my best friend, how hard it had been for my sister to marry and have a family of her own and to feel like I was the black sheep because I wasn’t married yet.
I told him about my degree in English literature, how useless it was, but how I didn’t regret getting it because that degree meant I’d gotten to study important, timeless works of classic literature, which I loved.
“No wonder you can’t find a job,” he joked at that.
I smacked his leg playfully before laying my head on his shoulder.
We talked about his childhood, racing through the halls of a much smaller version of this inn, of his parents and how they’d supported his ambition to rodeo, of the time he’d gotten bucked from a crazed stallion and nearly been trampled.
We talked about his wife, how much he missed her, how much it had hurt to lose his daughter before she was even born.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him, stroking his long fingers with mine. “I can’t even imagine.”
And I couldn’t. I’d never been in a relationship like that before. I wanted kids, but I hadn’t achieved that point in my life yet, either. I’d heard of the love a parent has for their children, but experiencing it was something else entirely.
We’d reached a warm level of emotional intimacy—something else I’d never had with a man before. I hoped he wouldn’t take what I was about to say wrong.
“Boone.”
“Hm?” He leaned his head against mine and traced the back of my hand with his thumb.
“I didn’t know your wife, but I doubt she would want you to hide away. It’s okay to live your life, and there’s no better time than Christmas to find healing. If it were me, I would want you to find happiness, even if I wasn’t there.”
Maybe that was why he was here. Maybe deep down, he wanted to awaken from the sleep he’d drifted in for far too long.
The movement of his thumb on my hand stilled. He lifted his head away from mine. But he didn’t argue with me or ask me to stop. I took that as encouraging and went on.
“Maybe that’s why the radio played for us.”
He leaned his head back against mine, nosing in against my temple, and groaned. “Not you, too.”
“Me, too?” What did he mean?
He crossed one ankle over the other. “Junie has been going on about it.”
I lifted a single shoulder. “Junie hasn’t said anything to me, but I did hear this random couple arguing. They warned me that if I heard music from the radio, I needed to run.”
Boone chuckled at this.
I went on, staring at our entwined hands. “They told me the radio thinks it’s some kind of matchmaker, and that you and I aren’t the only ones who’ve heard it.”
