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“Fine.” She pouts at me and I can’t resist dropping a small kiss to her puckered lips.
I roll off her and stand. But instead of her reaching up for me to help her stand, she starts swishing her arms and legs in the snow.
“Come on, Boone. Make a snow angel with me.” The smile in her voice and joy on her face is enough to make me lie down in the snow, the two of us creating art that’s going to melt with the next sunny day.
8
JEM
Car dug out and safely parked in front of Boone’s cabin? Check.
A quiet day talking and learning more about Boone in front of a roaring fire? Check.
Me developing a massive crush in the span of twenty-four hours on the quiet park ranger? Giant check.
I am in so much trouble.
The sky is just starting to darken when Boone stands from where we have Uno cards spread out on the table in front of us.
“Well, I win again. I guess I better go get dinner on,” he gloats.
“That last draw four wild was dirty, and you know it.”
He shrugs at me, looking impossibly hot in his Henley and jeans. “I don’t make the rules, Buttercup, I just use them to my advantage.”
“I forgot to call Uno one time and you couldn’t give me a pass?”
“The rules say that if you don’t call it and I call you on it, you draw. Not my fault that you were too busy admiring all this masculine perfection in front of you to remember.”
Something else that I learned about Boone today? Not only is he sure of himself in just about any situation, but he’s got a mischievous sense of humor—that he uses to his advantage. I’ve smiled so much today that my cheeks hurt from the permanent crease he’s caused, and I can’t remember the last time I was this content on a day off of work.
For the last three years I’ve been pushing, planning, and saving to eventually open my own artisan coffee shop. Every ounce of energy I have has been working toward that goal because the only thing I’ve ever been passionate about in my life is my caffeine consumption.
But the slower day with Boone? I didn’t realize I needed the downtime to just chill until I was in the thick of it and my shoulders popped loose from my earlobes and tension drained from me like a river flowing past a broken dam.
Boone’s phone vibrates twice on the counter, and he checks the display before turning it back over. That’s been happening throughout the day. He’ll get a text and then read it but not respond, and it makes me think that it’s his brothers since he told me that he avoids the group chat as much as possible.
My heart aches for Boone. He lost his mom, someone he was close with, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to lose the relationship he has with his brothers. But it’s not my place to say anything, so I keep quiet.
He glances at me and steps around the island in the kitchen and pulls the steaks off the counter where he prepped them with a dry rub about an hour ago. Piling them and the potatoes on a tray, he heads out the back door to where I’m assuming his grill is.
I stand and peek out the door, and my jaw nearly drops off my face.
A full kitchen, my ass. This covered deck was made for summer parties and entertaining. The furniture is all wooden, but fluffy cushions on the chairs and the couch make it look comfy. There’s a small firepit with a roof exhaust, and strings of bare bulbs are hung around the space for lighting.
“Holy shit, Boone. Your deck. Did you build this or was it here when you bought the place?”
“A little of both. One of my brothers does a lot of custom furniture so I had him do up some pieces. The lights and the firepit were easy to install, and the deck kitchen was already here.”
I sit on the couch, and sure enough, it’s cozy and comfy without being too much for an outdoor space. “I love this. I want to live here. Can you imagine having your coffee here with this view every morning?” I wave my hand at the mountains. “What am I saying, of course you can; you do get to have your coffee here whenever you want.”
“I actually don’t get out here very much. It’s usually only once a year.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Why only once a year?”
“Work. And I only come out here on Mom’s birthday.”
“Oh.” Well shit. What do I say to that? Luckily, I’m saved from having to reply when Boone says, “It’s okay. Dad and my brothers get together every year and go up to the mountains where her ashes were spread, but since I haven’t been able to go back home, I come up to these mountains and remember her.”
