Gone Country: Rough Riders, Book 14 Page 8

  “So…you’ve been here for almost a whole quarter. You got your eye on any guy at school?”

  Boone West’s face popped into her mind. He was so unbelievably hot. Those smoky eyes. That hank of hair that fell just a little too far down his forehead. Sigh. That sweet and devilish smile. Not to mention his rocking body.

  “Ah hah! I recognize that dreamy look,” Marin accused. “Come on. Spill it. Who?”

  Sierra’s thing for Boone wasn’t up for discussion. Not only because she didn’t have a chance with him, but she’d die if Boone ever found out she was crushing on him. She hadn’t told Marin about fixing lunch for Boone or how pervy she’d acted, peeking out the window, watching him work those muscles. “I saw this guy at the C-Mart the other day,” she lied. “He was older. A total cowboy. He flirted with me a little and left before I asked his name.”

  “Shame. I’d like to know who he was so I could tell you all about him. Or tell you to avoid him.”

  That was another problem she’d discovered living in Sundance. Everybody seemed to know everybody else’s business. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and see him tonight.”

  “Cool. So it’s your turn. Ask me who’s been flirting with me nonstop since the last FFA meeting.”

  “Who?”

  “Mitch Michaels!”

  Sierra turned down the radio. “Seriously, Marin? You’re just telling me this now?”

  Marin bounced in her seat and squealed, “Yes! I mean, I don’t know if it’ll come to anything, but we’re on the same sales team, selling raffle tickets for the quilt fundraiser.”

  “Think he’ll be here tonight?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hopefully Marin wasn’t the type of friend to ditch her as soon as she hooked a guy. Sierra would never do that to a friend. Not that she’d ever had a real boyfriend. She’d kissed a few guys but none had been worth bringing home to her dad.

  “What are we doing after?” Marin asked, tilting the rearview mirror so she could add a coat of lip gloss.

  “Have you heard if anything is going on?”

  “Dave Darling is having a party at his house. But he’s charging ten bucks a head to cover the booze and you have to pay even if you don’t drink.” Marin didn’t drink, but she didn’t preach about it.

  The parking area was packed and Marin ended up parking in the pasture across the road.

  Welcome to Wyoming. What would her friends in Arizona say if they saw her now?

  What friends? She hadn’t heard much from anyone except a few random Facebook comments and texts.

  Sierra shivered as they walked toward the stands. A huge crowd had gathered for the game. When Marin stopped to talk to her parent’s friends about someone with terminal cancer, Sierra turned away and looked around.

  That’s when she saw him.

  He stood beside the ambulance. Looking bored. Okay, looking awesome in his EMT uniform. But as she watched, she noticed he wasn’t alone for long. A group of girls approached him. He smiled, flashing those dimples, but the girls didn’t stick around. Then a group of cheerleaders from the rival high school sauntered up. Same routine: a quick smile, a fast chat and they were gone. When a couple of pretty, college aged women invaded his space, she expected he’d pay more attention to them, but he didn’t act any differently.

  Weird. Boone West could have his pick of any girls or women he wanted. So why did he look relieved when they left?

  Then Marin dragged her to the school cheering section. They squeezed in behind the band, standing with some people from her class. Immediately after the national anthem was the kickoff. Marin clapped along with a crowd cheer. “The cheerleaders are so much better this year than last year. The new coach is whipping them into shape. I’m thinking of trying out for the squad.”

  “Who’s the coach?”

  “Some woman who used to live here and was a super-cheerleader in high school.” Marin pointed. “That’s her. The little dark-haired one with the clipboard.”

  Sierra squinted at the sidelines and saw a tall, dark-haired man beside the cheerleading coach. He seemed familiar. “Hey. I think I know him.”

  “Know him? Arizona, you’re related to him. That’s Tell McKay. He’s your cousin.”

  “Am I related to every freakin’ person in town?”

  “Just about.” Then Marin grinned. “But if the coach is doing your cousin, you’d totally get on the team, no problem and as your bestie you’d get me on too, right?”

  “Right. Except I don’t know the first thing about cheerleading.”

  “Last year? Neither did they.”

  Sierra laughed. But could she really see herself in a short skirt and a tight top, shaking pompoms and yelling at the crowd? Maybe. Might be fun. It’d beat sitting at home watching her dad watch football and yell at the TV.

  Mitch Michaels showed up after halftime. He kept turning around to talk to Marin, so Sierra decided to leave them alone for a little while.

  She ducked under the stands and cut to where the food vendors had set up. Next to the ambulance.

  Don’t do it. Don’t try to talk to him. You saw how dismissive he was with all the others. He’ll be dismissive with you too.

  Her feet kept shuffling forward even as her head screamed stop.

  “Boone?”

  His head snapped up and his eyes zoomed to her. “Hey, Sierra.”

  “So you do know my name.”

  “McKay fits you better.”

  Okay. This was good. Just keep talking. “How’d you get stuck working?”

  “I volunteered for this shift. It’s probably wrong for me to hope I get to see some action tonight.” He rubbed his hands together. “A broken bone would be cool. Even a broken nose if it’s gushing blood.”

  “Eww.”

  He laughed.

  “So then do you get to set the bone or whatever?”

  “Hell no.” He jerked his head to the uniformed guy talking to an elderly woman. “He’s the head EMT. I’m just the gopher, driver and the muscle if we have to load an injured person. The docs do all the real work. We just try to keep ’em alive on the ride to the hospital.”

  “Is it a rush, racing around, dealing with life or death situations?”

  “It’s a serious fuckin’ rush.”

  “Is that why you do it?”

  “Partially.” Boone picked up his book and scooted over. “Sit down. Chill out for a bit. Unless you wanna get back to the game?”

  She about lost the ability to breathe when he pinned her with that hooded brown-eyed gaze. “No.” Then she was sitting thigh to thigh, arm to arm and shoulder to shoulder with Boone West.

  Be cool. “What are you reading?”

  Boone flipped the book over and showed her the cover.

  She read, “Mental Preparedness: Pushing Past Your Limits. Not what I’d expected.”

  “Oh yeah? What did you think I’d be reading?”

  His tone had gotten sharp. “I honestly had no idea since I don’t know you. It could’ve been a carpentry or medical book. Maybe a manual on how to keep the family peace on a school bus.”

  Evidently that was the right answer because he smiled. “I forget you haven’t been around forever to pass judgment on me.”

  “Who passes judgment on you?”

  “Everyone. A few years back, I got into some trouble.”

  “Is that why Kyler made the crack about you being in the principal’s office?”

  “Probably. My dad pulled me up by the short hairs before the stupid shit I was doing became dangerous stupid shit. He said he wouldn’t let his only kid go down that path and waste a promising life. He sent me to forestry camp for the entire summer. Straightened me out.”

  “Did you hate it?”

  “No, I liked it. Part of the program was taking an aptitude test. I scored high on strategy. So I’m working my way down the reading list my counselor suggested.” He paused and swigged from a bottle of water. “What about you?”

  “What do I read? Noth
ing outside of assigned homework and even then only enough to pass my classes. Reading isn’t really my thing.”

  “But I’ll bet you read cookbooks,” he pointed out. “Man. I still think about that sandwich.”

  So in a way he had been thinking about her. Cool. “Do you read only during slow times on your shift? Or do you read at home?”

  “Most nights after I work I’m wiped out and I just go to bed. But my dad is home this weekend and he mentioned hanging out.”

  Didn’t it just figure? There went her hope they’d run into each other at a party tonight after the football game.

  “My dad never says, stick around son, we’re gonna drink beer and fix that piece of shit Mustang we’ve been working on for four years. But last night he made a specific point of telling me to make myself available.”

  “What do you think that means?”

  Boone shrugged. “Maybe old Dax wants to break it to me that he found himself a girlfriend.”

  “How old is your dad?”

  “Really old. He just turned thirty-eight.”

  “Can you imagine having a kid right now like your dad did at your age?”

  “Way to ruin my happy buzz.” He raked his hand through his hair. “That’d be a freakin’ nightmare.”

  “Tell me about it. There was this girl in my class last year who got pregnant and kept the baby. Rielle got pregnant at sixteen and kept her daughter. Then there’s my Grams who gave my dad up for adoption. Seems like you’re screwed no matter which option you choose.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I’da been better off if my mom had done that. No doubt Dax would’ve been happy to be off the parenting hook. Maybe I would’ve ended up with rich adoptive parents like your dad did.”

  Took a second for that to sink in. Then she stood in front of him and glared. “That was a shitty thing to say. How would you like it if you’d been given up and found out years later that your biological parents ended up married anyway? Oh, then they had more kids together? But after my dad found out years later, he’s come to this family to try and sort it out, where he’s so obviously a McKay as you like to point out with me, but yet he isn’t. He chose to face her choice every day instead of ignoring it and going about his…rich man business—which is just another thing you assume and that pisses me off because my dad earned what he has by working his ass off. So I know this situation has to bother him because it bothers me.” With her angry eyes locked to his the cold seemed to hit her all at once and she began to shake.

  “Hey.” Boone’s strong fingers circled her wrists, staying her retreat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and I just said the first stupid thing that popped into my head.”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Lips that full should look girly, but didn’t on him. Yet she couldn’t help but think, pretty mouth; not so pretty words spilling from it.

  “Sierra?”

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Don’t be pissed off at me.”

  “Don’t expect me to forgive you for that total dick comment.”

  Boone tugged her closer until the outsides of her legs were wedged between his knees. “You so mad you’re shaking?”

  “Maybe.” Sierra could feel his body heat, but it didn’t warm her; it caused her to shiver again.

  “I am sorry.”

  She looked at him and saw real remorse in his eyes. “I can see that now.”

  “Good.” His fingers slid down and he clasped her small hands in his larger ones. He frowned. “You’re not mad. You’re freezing.” His assessing gaze moved across her upper torso. “Where’s your coat?”

  I left it in the truck so I didn’t make a bad fashion statement. Like she’d admit that to responsible Mr. EMT. “Uh. I forgot it.”

  “Christ. Don’t you know how fast it gets cold here?” Boone released her hands and shrugged out of his flannel-lined corduroy jacket. Then he draped it around her shoulders, pulling it around her arms and chest. “Better?”

  Sierra stared at him, resisting the urge to sniff the inside collar of his jacket, where his scent was the strongest. “Thanks.”

  Then he gently freed her hair from beneath the collar. Nothing about his movements was flirtatious, but her heart raced when his fingers brushed her skin. Especially when his hands smoothed her hair back from her face, slowly, from her scalp to the ends that stopped above the jacket pockets covering her breasts. “You warming up?”

  She was practically hot now. Mostly in the face. “Yeah. I’ll give it back before I go.”

  He waved her off. “Keep it. I’ve got another one in the cab. I’ll swing by and pick it up sometime.” He grinned. “Maybe you can fix me lunch again.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m glad you came over to talk to me. You’re different than the girls around here.”

  She blinked at him.

  “I recognize that have-I-just-been-insulted? look. I definitely meant that as a compliment. I’ve had more real conversations with you in the last few months than I’ve ever had with anyone else in this town.”

  Sierra did a mental fist pump, but managed a droll, “Cool. I suspected you only wanted to hang with me to give your uncles the middle finger for being friends with a McKay.”

  He laughed. “Nope. I like you despite your family heritage. You’re funny. You don’t bullshit me. You don’t try that fake come-on crap.” His voice rose an octave. “Oh Boone, you’re an EMT? I’ll play doctor with you anytime.” He rolled his eyes. “Lame, huh?”

  “Really lame.” Good thing she hadn’t said it, because she’d definitely been thinking it.

  “West! We’ve got an injury, let’s go!” the other EMT shouted.

  Boone’s boots hit the dirt. “See you around, McKay.” And he was gone.

  Back in the stands, Marin was so enamored with Mitch she didn’t even notice that Sierra had returned, wearing a borrowed jacket. Not that she’d tell her friend where she got it. Some secrets were just too good to share with anyone.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Rielle!”

  Gavin winced. Why couldn’t Sierra walk downstairs instead of yelling down the stairs? He should install an intercom system.

  “What?” Rielle yelled back.

  Then again, these two didn’t need one.

  “Come up and watch a movie with us. I made popcorn.”

  “Be right there.”

  Sierra gave him a smug look. “It’s on.”

  “Don’t be so cocky,” he warned. “I still say she won’t want to watch the movie you picked.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” She ripped open the bags of microwave popcorn and filled two bowls.

  Rielle walked in. “Hey guys.”

  Gavin pretended not to notice how the V-cut of her T-shirt made her breasts look completely lickable. Or that her cargo shorts were too baggy and hung low on her hips, providing a peek of her flat belly. Or that her smile seemed to light up the whole damn room.

  She frowned at the windows. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to those blinds. Makes it dark as a cave up here.”

  “Which is perfect for watching movies,” Sierra said. “You’ve got two choices.”

  “Why do I get to pick?” She looked at Gavin. “And isn’t Sunday night sacred football night?” His love of sports baffled her.

  “I set the DVR to watch it later.”

  Sierra handed Rielle a bowl of popcorn. “Dad and I can’t agree on one.”

  “What are the choices?”

  “Ten Things I Hate About You or Seabiscuit.”

  “Definitely the one with Heath Ledger.”

  Sierra did a little happy dance. “Told ya. And I want cherry.”

  Rielle’s gaze winged between them. “What’d I miss?”

  “We bet on which one you’d choose. Seabiscuit was Dad’s idea. It’s the best movie in the history of movies—according to him—and he’s always trying to get me to watch it.”

  “Only because you’ve never made it through the whole thing
so you can’t know how great it is.”

  “That’s because it puts me to sleep.” Sierra stretched out on the loveseat and asked Rielle, “Have you seen it?”

  “No. I fell asleep too. But Heath Ledger definitely keeps me awake.”

  Gavin put the disc into the DVD player. He turned around. Sierra had snatched the remote. “Where’s my popcorn?”

  “You’re sharing with Rielle.”

  He’d be suspicious his daughter suspected something was going between him and Rielle if he didn’t know how selfish Sierra was about her popcorn.

  Rielle already had her feet on the coffee table.

  He dropped beside her so they were hip to hip. He stretched his left arm across the back of the couch and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

  “Your new furniture is comfy,” Rielle said.

  “I must’ve sat on two dozen sofas until I found this one. It’s a little bland bachelor-ish as the fashionista pointed out, but comfort is more important than style.”

  “Definitely plenty of room for guests.”

  “Not if we invite all the McKays,” Sierra said.

  Rielle laughed.

  So while she watched the movie, Gavin covertly watched her. The curve of her smile. The way she grabbed a handful of popcorn, then ate it delicately—a kernel at a time. He liked that she gradually snuggled closer to him. Not in an obvious lover’s clinch that would raise Sierra’s eyebrows.

  When her eyes started to droop, he didn’t jostle her awake. He let her sleep so he could watch her without guilt.

  He brushed loose strands of her hair back. His gaze encompassed her face, from the frown lines between her eyebrows even in sleep, to the smattering of freckles across her nose, to her fantasy-invoking lips.

  It was only a matter of the right timing until they became lovers. The spark between them had burned a little hotter every time they were together. As much as Gavin wanted that explosion, he was a patient man.

  Rielle opened her eyes and blinked sleepily. “Sorry for crashing on you. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

  “Sierra conked out too. You’d think we were watching Seabiscuit.”