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“Fine, fine.”
He scowled. “You shouldn’t be lifting boxes.”
She shifted her gaze to his knee. “Yes, Pot, are you calling the Kettle out?”
“You’re right. I need to get some new movers in here ASAP.”
“Or you could just call Rodney and Joe back and apologize.”
He looked as if he’d rather have his leg squeezed in a vise. “Not a chance.”
She sympathized. “Tell you what. I have a lot of friends. Let me give them a call. There’s bound to be a few of them who wouldn’t mind lending a hand.”
He nodded with a quick jerk of his head. He had so much pride. This was really hard for him, letting others help him.
“Call ’em,” he said gruffly and limped toward the back door.
Tara blew out her breath and pulled her cell phone from her pocket to start making calls. If she and Boone kept butting heads the entire way to Miami, it was shaping up to be a very long trip.
OVER A DOZEN of Tara’s friends converged on the house. By the end of the afternoon, the U-Haul was packed and loaded, the house cleaned and empty of everything except the furniture that came with the rental. But now, everyone was sitting around drinking beer and eating the pizza that Tara had bought to thank them for their help. They were laughing and joking and lamenting about having to say goodbye. A few of her female friends even had tears in their eyes when they hugged her.
See, this was the problem with recruiting friends to help you move, Boone thought. You couldn’t just pack up, say thanks for the help and get the hell out of town. No, you had to sit around and make small talk and linger. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
Tara, however, was the life of her impromptu party. Teasing and smiling and telling everyone how much she appreciated their friendship. Promising to stay in touch via Facebook, Twitter and texts.
C’mon. All that social media stuff was crap. Nothing but a huge time suck. And honestly, those relationships were superficial at best. Why bother?
Yeah? These days, how many of your friends would show up to help you move?
Once upon a time, he’d had a handful of good friends he could count on, but these days? Boone licked his dry lips. Well, were they really friends? They’d abandoned him in tough times.
Or hey, maybe you were the one who pushed them away.
He caught Tara’s eye from across the room and tapped the face of his watch. She gave him a bright, empty smile, like she thought he was the most pathetic guy in Bozeman.
Someone said something to her. She threw back her head and laughed with a rich, deep sound that rattled him to his core. No wonder people surrounded her like they were honeybees and she was their queen.
His gaze tracked from Tara’s face down her long, slender throat to the cleavage revealed by the V-neck of her tie-dyed T-shirt. She had a cola in her hand. No beer for her, since she would be driving later tonight. His eyes dropped lower to take in those denim shorts sitting low on her curvy hips. The cuffed hem hit high on her thighs, showing off those pinup-quality legs.
He felt a stirring below his belt and swallowed hard. No, no. No way. She might be sexy as ten kinds of sin, but he was not even going to allow himself to fantasize about her. That was just inviting trouble. He had to be confined in a car with her for the next several days. He was not letting his libido off the chain. His focus was on getting to Key West to keep Jackie from making a huge mistake, and he was not going to let anything distract him.
Not even sexy Tara.
In fact, he was antsy as hell, hating that he had to wait for her to wind down this dumb party so they could get on the road. Plus, his leg was achy. He needed to get up and move around. He hoisted himself from the chair and limped toward the door.
The summer sun hung on the horizon. The evening breeze was cool against his face. Perfect. Just what he needed to snap him out of red-hot thoughts about Tara. He wasn’t the kind of guy who went in for temporary flings, and of course that’s all it could be between them. Not just because she was moving away, but because they had as much in common as a brightly colored helium balloon and a brick wall.
You’re the brick wall.
That hadn’t been a bad thing back in high school when he’d played linebacker. Or in the army where physical strength was a man’s biggest asset. But now? The qualities he’d cultivated—staunchness, dependability, strength—were either lost to him or passé. What was a soldier without an enemy to vanquish?
“You’re doing it again,” a light voice murmured behind him.
Too close behind him. He could feel her body heat. Tara again. Violating boundaries. Hadn’t she ever heard of personal space?
He stepped away from her and in his haste, almost lost his balance. If she hadn’t reached out a hand to stabilize him, he would have taken a tumble off her porch. Damn knee. Damn heavy brace.
“Doing what?” he grumbled, wrenching his arm away. He caught a glimpse of her face in the shadows. For a split second she looked hurt, but quickly pasted a smile on her face.
You’re a moron, Toliver.
“Brooding,” she said.
“I’m not brooding. I just needed some air.”
“Come back inside and have some pizza and beer,” she invited, her voice soft and understanding.
She was so nice. Too damn nice. And ultimately, that was the real reason he would never ever sleep with her. He couldn’t taint her happy little world. That’s why he was gruff with her.
Well, she’s moving now, all you have to do is get through the next few days and she’ll be out of your life forever.
Why did that thought make his gut burn? He was glad she was going. No more having to make idle conversation with her. No more having to respond to her cheery conversations. No more Tara cluttering up his thoughts.
“We need to get on the road.” He hitched his thumbs through his belt loops.
“Right.” Her smile was wan. “You have a wedding to bust up.”
“Jackie’s making a big mistake.”
“Because you know her so well.” She was taunting him now, in that wide-eyed, “who, me?” way she had about her—all innocent, yet sly.
“She’s my sister.”
“And a grown woman.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t try to protect her?”
“I’m saying that I understand how overprotective big brothers can be and how they can ruin a woman’s love life when they stick their noses in where they don’t belong. Why do you think I moved to Montana?”
“I thought you came up here after a cowboy.”
“Yes, and my brothers hated him.”
“From the way things turned out, seems like your brothers had a point.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Just because things didn’t work out between me and Chet doesn’t mean my brothers had the right to meddle in my business. The mistake was mine to make.”
“And yet, you’re running back home.”
Her eyes flashed sparks. He’d upset her. He was good at that. Quite an accomplishment, since she was usually so easygoing.
“Because my mother is ill.” She took a step toward him.
The smell of her—both sweet and sensual—tangled up in his nose. His body hardened instantly. He clenched his jaw to fight off the erection and prayed she would not look down.
“Is that the only reason?”
“I miss Florida. Nothing wrong with that.”
“And your brothers. You miss them, too.”
“I do,” she admitted.
“I’m just saying, they probably have your best interests at heart. More so than some cowboy named Chet.”
“I’ll get rid of my friends,” she said in a low voice that left him hungry and aroused.
His gaze hooked on her mouth. What beautiful, full lips, strawberry-pink and glistening with shiny gloss. “Thanks,” he managed.
She touched him lightly, the bare brushing of her fingertips over his forearm, but it was enough to ignite his desire. He suppressed a groan.
“We’ll be on the road within the hour.” Tara turned and went back into the house.
Leaving Boone wondering how he was going to survive the next few days alone in a car with this tantalizing bombshell he wanted absolutely no part of.
3 (#ulink_267009b8-5364-554a-96b1-924ab60b2b11)
Tuesday, June 30, 11:50 p.m.
FOR THE PAST three hours, they’d been driving east down lonely Highway 90. The barren landscape made Tara happy that she wasn’t traveling this route alone. Montana was pretty, but in the dark, it stretched out long and lonesome.
Funny, she’d never noticed how empty the state was when she’d made the drive up from Florida fourteen months ago following Chet, more for fun and adventure than true love. Her friends raved about falling in love, finding that special someone, but Tara had never been that lucky. She’d liked lots of guys, sure, and had plenty of friends, but she’d never had that special connection with a guy.
Sometimes, she wondered if there was something wrong with her, some secret inability to experience love the way others did. Her mother told her it was simply because she just hadn’t met the right man yet. The guy who would make her happy to give up her independence and settle down.
Tara sneaked a glance over at Boone and her heart did this strange little tightening thing. She was grateful for Boone’s company, even though he was trying mighty hard to pretend he was asleep.
The plan he’d given her—the control freak—detailed driving to Billings tonight, catching a few hours of sleep in a truck-stop motel and then hitting the road again at dawn. He’d programmed all their stops into his GPS and given her an estimated time frame for how long each stop should take. He’d made no allowances for detours. He was methodical and prepared. It drove Tara bonkers. How in the world could you truly experience life if you never strayed from the beaten path? If all your time was carefully plotted, where did spontaneity come in?
Boone had the passenger seat pushed back as far as it would go and he wore a Minnesota Twins baseball cap pulled down over his face. His breathing was slow and steady, but he had his arms crossed over his chest. Her gaze drifted down to his right leg encased in the metal brace. He had to be hurting from the day’s efforts, but she hadn’t seen him take a pain pill. He’d even refused the beer she’d offered him at her impromptu goodbye party.
Leaving Bozeman was more difficult than she’d thought it was going to be and it was all because of the man sitting beside her. She was excited about seeing her family again and happy that she wouldn’t be spending another winter in Montana, but for all his gruffness, she was really going to miss Boone.
Her cell phone rang. Who was calling her this late at night? She couldn’t see the caller ID in the dark, so she just answered it through the hands-free device that broadcast the conversation throughout the car. She tried to whisper so as not to disturb Boone. “Hello?”
“Tara? I can’t hear you,” said her older sister, Kate.
“I’m here.” She raised her voice and cast a glance over at Boone to see if she was bothering him.
“Why are you calling so late? Is something wrong?”
“I’m at the hospital with Mom. She came through the surgery with flying colors and most likely she’ll be released tomorrow.”
Tara breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I regret that I couldn’t be there for the surgery.”
“It’s okay,” Kate said. “You’re coming home now.”
“I’m sorry this is all falling on your shoulders.”
“It’s not. Everyone is pitching in. Joe and Matt are staying at the house with Dad. Erin and Dave are flying in tomorrow.”
“I’m still several days away.”
“No worries. You’ll be home to help drive her to chemo treatments once she recovers from the surgery. Really, the doctors say she’s got an excellent chance for a complete recovery.”
“Still, it’s scary to think of losing her.”
“I know,” Kate said softly. “She’s really happy you’re moving back home for good. We’ve all missed you.”
Guilt nibbled at Tara. Her mother had been her biggest cheerleader, always urging her to follow her dreams and her heart, but she couldn’t help feeling selfish that in her wanderlust, she’d left her family behind. While she loved adventure, Tara was a traditionalist at heart. Family meant a lot to her. It was time she went home.
“I’ll call in the morning,” Tara said.
“You be careful on the drive. Don’t rush. We’ve got everything covered here.”
More guilt. “’Night, Kate.”
“Good night, Tara.”
She cut off the call and peeped over at Boone again. Had he heard her conversation? The guilt turned into another feeling she couldn’t quite identity, a cross between regret and wistfulness. He hadn’t moved a muscle.
The car’s headlights cut a swath through the darkness, the single illumination on the silent highway. A shiver of loneliness passed through her and, for a second, she felt as if she were completely alone on the surface of the moon.
Up ahead, she could see the lights of Billings, and an impish part of her wanted to drive on through without stopping. Throw off his best-laid plans; prove to him there was nothing wrong with a little impulsiveness. She would have done it, too, except she had no idea how far away the next town was.
“Take the next exit,” Boone said.
Tara startled. “You’re not even looking at the road. How do you know the exit to Billings is coming up next?”
“I have an acute sense of time. At the speed you’re driving, we should be coming up to Billings.”
She shifted her gaze to the clock in the dash. He was right on the money. “Dude, that’s a freaky skill.”
He shrugged, didn’t bother to lift the cap off his face. There’d be no making end runs around this guy.
“Is the whole trip going to be like this?” she asked.
“Like what?”
