Page 31 of Love Me Again

He reached out, took Josie by the arm, and led her into his room.

Two very large mistakes. Because he could feel that she was too skinny, and he could remember touching her arm in a lot more interesting ways. And now he’d introduced a bed into the equation by pulling her into his bedroom.

Maybe she’d never been in this room and this bed, but he had way too many memories of Josie in a bed, and his brain was superimposing all the beds into this one and all the Josies into this one and…

He glanced at her. Her gaze had followed his and was staring at the messy, unmade bed.

Her cheeks were pink.

His dick was hard.

It was kind of like their first date, all in all. Except there’d been no bedrooms then. Just his truck and her perfume and laugh and…

God, he’d love to make her laugh again. Love to go back to that bright, perfect summer when he’d thought for the first time in his life, he could make something right.

Instead, he’d made it all wrong. And he wasn’t going to make her laugh now. He was going to piss her off. Might as well rip off the bandage. Probably better than indulging this awful little bubble of longing and memory.

“I did call the lawyer, and the thing is… He’s on vacation.”

She frowned at him in pure disbelief. “Boone.”

“He’ll be back in the new year,” Boone continued, because she might not believe him, but it was true.

And he was damn glad it was.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure there’s another lawyer at his firm that can handle it.”

“Actually, it’s some kind of family affair, and they always close down for a month this time of year.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I can give you his number if you’d like to call and talk to his secretary. But she only mans the phones Monday and Wednesday mornings just in case an emergency crops up.”

“This is an emergency.”

“She didn’t seem to think so.”

Josie was shaking her head. “This is…insanity. And ridiculous. What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Just…” He gave a little shrug, hoping it came off as casual. “Stay put until the new year.”

She gaped at him and her voice went up a few octaves. “Stay put?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“And do what?”

“Relax. Take a breather. You’ve had a shit…what? Six months?”

“Try two years, Boone.”

“Okay, a shit two years, thanks to me. So, thanks to me, take a load off. The cabin is comfortable, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I can’t just stay there and have your mother ply me with food and your sister… I need a job. I need…”

She needed a break, and she’d never take one. But maybe if he took a few pages out of his mother’s master playbook, he could get her there. To rest, take care of herself a little bit. Maybe if he showed her that he could take care of her…

Stop hoping for things that cannot be.