Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1) Page 9

  From down the hallway, Anton yelled out, “Way to go, Romeo.”

  I held up my middle finger.

  Hayden crawled out of his room and sat across from me. “Dude. You suck at this. You need some serious advice on how to deal with women.”

  Before I could tell him to fuck off, because Christ, he was nineteen, and I hated that he was right, Anton said, “No, he needs a damn reality check. Boone. Buddy. Why are you doin’ dumb shit to screw this up with Sierra?”

  “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

  “Really? So it was an accident that you lied to her about finding a place to live for your friend? An accident you lied to her about how long you’ll be in Phoenix?” Hayden said skeptically.

  My head fell against the wall. “When you put it that way…”

  “There is no other way. You lied.”

  “Twice,” Anton inserted helpfully. “What were you thinking?”

  “Within five seconds of walking into her office the first day, I fucking knew that even if it took me two goddamned years to convince Sierra we’re meant to be together, it’d be worth any lie in the short term for a chance at the long term with her.”

  Silence.

  I glanced up.

  Hayden pretended to knuckle away a tear.

  Asshole.

  “Why didn’t you tell her that just now?” Kyler said.

  “What was I supposed to do? Tackle her, sit on her and make her listen to me?” I snorted. “Right. Like you guys would’ve let that happen.” I pointed at Hayden. “Dickhead there already warned me tonight that I’d better watch my step around the precious. And it’s not like I don’t already have another contract out with you psycho McKay motherfuckers for maintaining good behavior with her.”

  “Explain that, West.”

  I relayed my deal with Gavin, which in hindsight meant I provided them with a legit reason to make fun of me for the rest of my fucking life and to beat the fuck out of me.

  After they finished laughing, Kyler crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that this is in perspective for us… When she stomped off? That’s when you should’ve taken her in hand and put it in perspective for her.”

  “Taken her in hand?” I repeated.

  Kyler shrugged. “Taken her someplace private, explained what you needed to and dealt with her attitude.”

  “You’ve had experience with that?”

  “A time or two.” He smirked. “A woman like Sierra? She’ll see how far she can push you. She expects you to push back.”

  “That’s why you need to keep her guessing where that push back line is,” Hayden added.

  “If that doesn’t work, buy her something,” Anton suggested. “Just not a puppy.”

  “Or jewelry. That’s like saying ‘please wrap this necklace around my dick and assume you now own it,’” Hayden said with a shudder.

  I looked from Hayden to Anton to Kyler. “You guys don’t have a fucking clue about women, do you?”

  Hayden cheerily said, “Nope.”

  Anton said, “Does anyone, really?”

  “Awesome. Thanks for nothing.”

  “Ah ah ah. But we are gonna give you something,” Hayden said.

  “What?”

  “Another chance with Sierra, cynical fucker,” Anton said.

  “Come over Sunday night after you get off work for food and football,” Ky said. “Be ready to explain everything to her. Sierra gets mad fast, but she’s not unreasonable.”

  “Except for some reason we cannot understand, she seems to like you,” Anton said.

  “Fuck off, McKay.”

  “That’s the thanks we get for playing the love doctors between you two?” Hayden made obnoxious kissing noises.

  I ignored him and stood. “Seriously, guys, I appreciate it. This thing between me and Sierra…it’s important. See you Sunday.”

  My favorite thing about fall wasn’t the break from the brutal summer temperatures.

  It was that fall meant football season.

  I loved football—a love my dad passed down to me. Since he had custody of me on the weekends growing up, he’d usually tape the games so it wouldn’t interfere in our limited time together. So when I became a cheerleader in high school and knew little about the gridiron, Dad insisted watching games would be the best way for me to learn. I fell in love with the sport. From that moment on, we plunked ourselves on the couch for college games on Saturday. Pro games on Sunday, Monday and Thursday nights. We were both Cardinals fans and over the years we’ve attended as many live games together as we could fit into our schedules. Sometimes we even talked on the phone during the games.

  With tonight being Meat-topia and a family Sunday Night Football event, I’d spent the day watching other games in between bouts of baking. Since Lu wasn’t around and I didn’t need to gorge on cookies and cupcakes, I froze all the goodies to take to the PCE meeting Tuesday night.

  Bull. You’re hiding the evidence of your manic baking spree because Lu would know something was up with you.

  So what? Putting all thoughts of Mr. Liar Liar out of my head had required lots of egg cracking, butter whipping and dough punching.

  I rang the doorbell to my cousins’ house with my elbow since my hands were full.

  Ky opened the door and grabbed the top two containers. “Sorry. I would’ve helped you carry this from the car.”

  “I thought I had it under control.” Story of my life. I followed Ky into the kitchen.

  After I set the containers on the counter Ky hugged me. “Thanks for coming over.” Then he scowled at my Cardinals T-shirt. “Good thing I know your taste in brownies is better than in football teams.”

  “Hilarious.” I eyed his Broncos jersey. “We could cut up your shirt and use it for extra napkins if we run out,” I suggested sweetly. “Or better yet, toilet paper.”

  “Ooh, I felt the burn of that one all the way over here, Kyler,” Hayden said from the stool at the end of the counter. He held out his arms, expecting his hug. “Gimme some sugar and no lip about my wearing of the orange.”

  That’s one of the things I loved about my family; the open affection. I noticed Hayden had his leg propped up. “How’s the ankle?”

  “The swelling is down, but it’s still sore.”

  “You probably shouldn’t have gone to the game yesterday. We were on our feet for the entire thing,” I pointed out.

  Hayden grinned. “It was worth it to see Ky kicking ass.”

  “True dat.” ASU had lost the game after the defense had fucked up, but Ky had great stats. I lowered my voice. “QB is okay today?”

  “I’m fine,” Kyler said. “It sucked to lose but that means we’re more focused on preparing for this week’s game against OSU.”

  I scanned the dining and living room. “Where’s Anton?”

  “Out manning the grill, obsessing about the smoke to sweetness ratio of his ribs,” Hayden said.

  “Just as long as he doesn’t obsess to the point we don’t get to eat the damn ribs. I am starving.” Mase lumbered in. At least he was wearing a Cardinals jersey. At six foot five, with shoulders as wide as the doorframe, his big body threw a shadow across the kitchen counter. He had shaggy reddish-brown hair and a baby face—a face that sported a black eye and a swollen lip from last night’s hockey game. According to my cousins, Mase’s baby face disappeared the second he laced up his hockey skates. I didn’t see that side of him, just the shy guy who let his housemates do most of the talking.

  “Thanks for letting me hang out, Mase. This is the second time this weekend.”

  “Love having you here, Nevada. And is that what I think it is?” He leaned over the foil-covered glass baking dish.

  “Yep. I figured you all burned extra calories so you deserved a treat.”

  “You are the best woman on the planet,” Hayden declared. “Why can’t I find someone like you?”

  “Because you’re not looking?”

  “Got me there.”

  “He’s
auditioning,” Ky said with a snort. “Very few of them get a call back.”

  “Damn straight.” Mase and Hayden bumped fists.

  I glanced out the patio and saw Anton headed in with a huge foil-covered pan. I rushed to open the door.

  “Thanks, darlin’. Happy to see your pretty face, because you always add class to our meals.”

  Cowboy to the core. Charmer to the core. Deadly combination for a lot of women. For me, it was just fun to sit back and watch these boys come into their own as men.

  “Knock knock,” sounded from the foyer.

  Speaking of men…of course Boone was here.

  You’d better get used to seeing him at family events since he’s, oh…fucking living in Phoenix now.

  No matter. I was an adult. I’d deal. I’d just ignore him.

  But somehow I started humming pretty loudly as I aligned the dishes buffet style. In addition to the potato salad and cornbread muffins I’d brought, someone had cracked open a can of baked beans.

  Anton pulled back the tin foil to reveal the biggest pile of ribs I’d seen outside the Crook County Fair cook-off. Next to the ribs were ears of corn.

  “That looks like heaven,” Mase said on a reverent whisper.

  “It is. Dig in while it’s hot. The game starts in thirty.”

  Bottles rattled and I glanced over to see Boone setting a case of O’Doul’s on the counter. He stepped back and I noticed he was wearing scrubs. Scrubs were not sexy.

  But scrubs were sexy as sin on Boone West, RN.

  The jerk.

  He offered me a tentative smile and said, “Hey, McKay.”

  Immediately three other people said, “What?”

  “Now I see the need for nicknames,” Boone said. He handed a bottle to Hayden.

  Mase snagged an O’Doul’s. “You’ve gotta have beer with ribs. Got to. And this stuff ain’t half bad.”

  I grabbed a bottle. I twisted the top off and took a big drink. I said, “You weren’t lying about this near-beer being good,” to Mase while I looked directly at Boone.

  His jaw tightened. Then he leaned in and said, “Did I hear you humming ‘Lyin’ Eyes’ right after I walked in?”

  “Yes. I love the Eagles.”

  “Bull. You always hated it when I played Eagles tunes.”

  “But the song fits, doesn’t it?” I said sweetly. “Are you a Miranda Lambert fan?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Gonna bust out into a chorus of ‘White Liar’ next?”

  “Probably. And I’ll follow it up with ‘Would I Lie to You’ by Eurythmics. I considered tossing in ‘Little Lies’ by Fleetwood Mac, but Motorhead’s ‘Don’t Lie to Me’ is in line with my angry mood about the whole situation.”

  “Christ. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Heartfelt apology there, scooter.” I poked him in the chest. “Not okay. Not even fucking close to okay.”

  He struggled to respond.

  I let him.

  Finally he said, “Please give me an opportunity to offer you a sincere apology and a chance to explain everything after we eat.”

  Say no and walk away.

  “Why should I care?”

  “Because you’ve wanted to see me grovel for a long damn time.”

  “Not. Good. Enough.”

  “Since you like tossing song titles at me. Here’s one that fits—”

  “‘She Hates Me’ by Puddle of Mudd,” I snapped. “Good call on that one.”

  “Wrong.” Then Boone invaded my space, the expression in his dark eyes was somewhere between haunted and frustrated. “Let me finish. Every time I’ve heard ‘I Won’t Give Up’ by Jason Mraz I’ve thought of you. Of us. Every time, Sierra. Tell me you didn’t think of us when you heard it.”

  I didn’t retort or back away. My stomach pitched. My chest felt tight, as if I couldn’t get any air. Music has always played a big part in my life. It played a big part in my friendship with Boone because our musical tastes were so diverse. But the fact he’d mentioned that song? The one tune guaranteed to make me think of him and what could’ve been? That spoke to me on a level no amount of groveling or “I’m sorry” ever could have. Maybe it was against my better judgment, but I found my anger toward him softening somewhat. I could be civil long enough to hear his apology.

  “You have one shot at offering me a fucking stellar and believable request for my forgiveness, West.”

  He didn’t offer a cocky smile. He just quietly said, “Thank you.”

  I turned back toward the food and saw our cousins pretending that they hadn’t been watching us whisper fight.

  Mase piled his food on a platter; evidently a regular-sized plate wasn’t big enough. “Seriously dude, these ribs are fucking awesome. I’m so glad you guys moved in.” He paused and looked at Anton. “Not to seem ungrateful for this spread, but what are we having next month?”

  Anton wiped his hands on a towel. “Brisket and sausage.”

  Mase actually whimpered.

  Boone cocked an eyebrow at Kyler.

  “Anton is the meat master and Mase is a self-professed ‘meat-atarian’ after his mom turned vegan his last year of high school. Once a month we have Meat-topia. The rule initially was no chicks, because we’d never get laid again if they saw us eat like this.”

  “But then Nevada showed up with brownies, so she’s totally in.”

  I raised my bottle to Mase.

  “Ky, can I borrow some clothes? I don’t need barbecue sauce on my scrubs.”

  “There’s a basket of my stuff on top of the dryer. Pick anything but the Broncos jerseys.”

  “No self-respecting Cowboys fan would be caught dead wearing one anyway,” Boone shot back.

  “At least you’re consistent,” I said to Boone.

  “Meaning what?” he said warily.

  I smirked. “Your taste in football teams is as crappy as your taste in music.”

  His gaze lingered a bit too long on the Cardinals team logo stretched across my chest before his eyes met mine. “Back atcha, babe.”

  Mase and Ky were sitting at the dining room table when I noticed Hayden hadn’t moved. “Hey, sweetie. Would you like me to fix you a plate? And if you promise not to spill, maybe next time you can sit at the grownups table with the rest of us.”

  Ky and Mase laughed. Anton said something about a sippy cup.

  “Piss off, all of you.”

  “Seriously, hop-along; what do you want?”

  “Some of all of it.”

  After I loaded his plate, I took it into the dining room.

  Back in the kitchen, I stood next to Boone watching him play Jenga with a pile of ribs. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Promise you won’t watch me eat, McKay.”

  “I’ve seen you eat.”

  “Not like this you haven’t.”

  Just like that, I was thrown back to the times I’d ended up cooking for him, when I’d figured out he’d probably never had enough to eat. His appetite had gone beyond typical teenage boy eat-everything-in-sight hunger to real hunger. “This ain’t my first Meat-topia, soldier boy. See if you can keep up.”

  Boone bypassed my potato salad, so I said, “Hold on,” and spooned some on his plate.

  “What is this?”

  “German potato salad. Try it.”

  He squinted at the pile. “Isn’t potato salad supposed to be…yellow? And have…potatoes in it?”

  “Not all potato salad is yellow. It looks a little brown because I didn’t have red onions or Yukon gold potatoes, but it tastes awesome.”

  “What else is in it?” he said suspiciously, like I’d attempted to sneak in zucchini.

  “Bacon, caramelized onion, mint and sauerkraut.”

  “You always did mix some weird shit together but it ended up tasting good.” Boone came to a full stop when he saw the pan of brownies. “What is that?”

  “My all-access pass to Meat-topia. Salted caramel brownies baked on top of chocolate chip cookie bars and finished with marshmallows, coconut, M&
Ms, mini peanut butter cups and raspberry buttercream frosting.”

  “Hearing that description, my blood sugar just shot up fifty points.”

  “You have to try the brownies,” Mase said. “You’ve never tasted anything so good.”

  Boone’s gaze hooked mine. “You want me to taste your goodies, Sierra? Lick up some of that cream like a man starved for such sweetness?”

  Heat shot down my center straight between my legs.

  A devilish smile curled his lips.

  Anton had outdone himself with the ribs. The guys were stuffed to the point I thought I might have to roll them into the den for the football game. They rallied long enough to help tidy the kitchen and direct me on where to put the tiny amount of leftovers.

  Kyler grabbed the dishrag out of my hand. “I didn’t invite you over to eat with us and expect you to do the dishes as payment.”

  “I know that. I just ate too much and if I sit in front of the TV I’ll fall into a food coma. So you go watch the game and I’ll be in when I’m done out here.”

  “You sure? You’ve been looking forward to this game all week.”

  I hip-checked him. “Oh, I’ll be in to put you Denver Donkey lovers in your places when the jeers about the Cards stomping them gets too annoying.”

  “You wish.” He held out his hand. “Standard bet, no points spared?”

  “None needed,” I said and shook it.

  “I’ll put twenty on the Cardinals,” Boone said from behind me.

  “Sweet. Easy money. You coming in to watch the game?” Ky asked him.

  “I’ll help Sierra finish the dishes.” After Kyler left, Boone said, “Wash or dry?”

  “I’ll wash.”

  “They do have a dishwasher.”

  “Which is already full of dirty dishes.” I paused to stack the plates. “I checked.”

  Boone waited until I was elbow-deep in soapy water before he said, “I am sorry. I should’ve been honest with you about how long I’ll be in Phoenix. I should’ve told you I needed a place to live. Totally fucking stupid on my part to skate around all that stuff.”

  I waited for him to tack on a “but”…but he didn’t. I set a soapy plate in the empty side of the sink and said, “Why did you lie?”