Page 58 of Merry Mended Hearts

I’d just flashed my zebra-striped panties at this man. Inadvertently, yes, but that didn’t change the fact that he just saw almost everything of my lower half that there was to see.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry about the pants. I didn’t realize…”

His ears turned pink. He cleared his throat and looked away, pushing to his feet and leaving the towel on the floor.

“I’m so sorry about your rug. I never meant to drop that candle.”

“It’s okay.”

“That would have been so bad if you hadn’t stepped in. I can’t?—”

“Grace.”

“I’m so?—”

“Grace.” His voice elevated.

“It’s too bad my wet clothes didn’t fallonthe candle. Who knew everything would catch that quickly?”

Boone rested his fingers on my lips. The touch was soft but insistent. My frantic railings died off, and I lifted my boggling eyes to him, completely taken aback.

He was standing so close to me. He swallowed, and instead of removing his hand, he shifted it and scaled his thumb across my bottom lip. The touch sent tingles all down my body.

A trace of vulnerability flickered in his eyes. He stared at my mouth for several seconds, his eyes darkening.

The heat gathering between us was unbearable, but I’d lost the ability to move. It seized my breath in my lungs and froze every joint I had into place.

“It’s just a rug,” he said in a gravelly tone.

That sound may as well have been a stick stoking the embers of the flames currently stirring in my belly and sending heat through me all over again.

“I’m not attached to it. Let me see if I can find something else that might work better for you.”

Lowering his hand, he again turned and made for the door to the cold part of the cottage. When he was gone, I bent for my wet clothes, but as I gathered them up, it felt like I needed to collect my wits as well.

Boone had stroked my mouth. He’d looked at me with desire in his eyes, with sweet vulnerability that I never would have imagined he possessed. Even though I was in warmer clothes, my bones were still chilled—and the memory of that moment was enough to melt every iceberg that had formed in my veins and keep my shipafloat.

I stared at the fire, at the towel, at the rug. What had just happened? And what was I going to do about it?

BOONE

I hadto get out of there. So I’d taken any excuse I could.

Cursing myself, I tore into the chilled back hall. One direction led to the bathroom; the other led to my bedroom, and I stormed through the chill in my sock feet.

I’d only meant to help her get something dry to wear. But it’d been dark when I’d gone in search of a change of clothes.

Of course, I’d had to grab the first pair of pants in my drawer without looking. I’d given her my old pants—pantsIdidn’t even wear for the same reason she’d had trouble with them.

And it wasn’t like I was overweight or anything, but my waist was larger than hers. And whatever elastic had existed in those pants had long since lost its spring.

Grunting, reaching for the flashlight I kept on top of the dresser, I opened the third drawer down. I rifled through, finding a different pair. This one wasn’t quite as warm as the fuzzier pants she currently had on.

I held the pants in my hand and stared straight ahead, working through the memory crashing through my brain. It wasn’t just the way she’d thrown everything in me off-kilter since I’d met her—it was thatmoment.

The one where I’d forgotten myself. Where nothing else made sense but touching her.

“Don’t go there,” I muttered to myself, fighting the warmth in my chest and slamming the drawer shut.

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