Page 92 of Merry Mended Hearts

I had two options: I could play it off, keep my feelings to myself, go home, and live with regret that I’d never taken a chance while it’d been right in front of me.

Or I could confess thiseverythinginside of me. See what happened. That way, even if nothing did, at least I wouldn’t have the regret of not trying.

I was a lit match leading its way to dynamite.

It was time to see if Boone was fireproof…

“They’re true,” I said, pinning my eyes to his. “I kept trying to write, but all I could think about was you, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything else until I got down how you made me feel?—”

“That’s all I needed to know.” He pushed me against the door, his fingers digging into my hips.

I wrapped my arms around him, taking everything he wanted to give. His mouth had urgency, a parched sort of thirst only for me. I matched his pace, allowing his lips to part mine, to deepen the taste, the feel, the wanting flourishing inside of me.

His kiss answered a call that only he could. He kissed me long, slow, and hard, his body flushed against mine. His mouth trailed to my throat while his hands roved, lifting me from the ground. I was in a haze, so much so that when he lowered me until my feet returned to the floor, I had to lean against him for several moments.

“I had to see you again,” he said, holding me tightly. “I’ve thought about nothing but you since you left.”

I couldn’t grasp this. My head was still trying to come back to earth. “I thought you couldn’t have the reminder of your daughter’s name.”

His thumbs stroked my cheeks. The light was dim, but I saw well enough how dilated his pupils were. “I was trying to convince us both it would never work because you nearly undid me this morning, Grace. You looked so amazing in that just-woke-up kind of way, and it was all I could do not to take you back to the couch and kiss you then and there.”

My heart was a hot air balloon, swelling and rising in my chest.

“Were you really going to name your daughter Grace?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and while he lowered his hands back to my waist, he didn’t take his chocolate brown eyes from me. “Yes. But I owe you an apology.”

“Another one?”

He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Yes. You aren’t a painful reminder. I’ve been hiding from my heart for so long. I hide away at the cottage until Christmas is over because I can’t bear the reminder, but now, you’re everywhere there, too. I was going to wait out the holiday, except you left me this love note.”

“Love note?”

“That entry you wrote. Your notebook.”

It was only then I realized I no longer held it. Peering around, I saw it lying on the floor not far from our feet. I must have dropped it when he’d kissed me.

Boone bent for it, placing it on the dresser before sliding his hands around me once more.

I was overwhelmed, utterly and completely. It was a good thing he was there, holding me, keeping me on my feet. I pressed my forehead to his chest, feeling his heart thrum.

“I can’t believe I’ve only known you for a matter of days,” I said. “It feels like I’ve known you so much longer.”

“I know.” His voice was a rumble. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, too. It’s like something inside you calls to something inside me. It’s done that since we met, and I tried ignoring it. But when things are true, you can’t ignore them. And I couldn’t ignore that part of you that belongs with me.”

He brought his mouth back to mine once more, and this time, the kiss was more tender, as though it held a promise inside that was only for me.

This moment, his words. I didn’t know what to say. I defaulted to joking since that was what I could wrap my head around right now. Maybe it was because it felt like he was making promises he couldn’t keep.

“Just what did you read?” I asked when he pulled back, half joking and half dying to know. With a lurch in my stomach, I gripped his shirt in my fists. “Please tell me you didn’t read the Demon Boone parts of my story.”

Laughing, Boone pulled away to look into my eyes. “The what?”

I toyed with the hair on the back of his head. “Back when I was angry at you, I made you the villain.”

He laughed harder, pulling me close to him once more. “I didn’t read anything like that. Except now, I want to.”

His hands settled in at my waist, his inquisitive gaze poured into me, and his voice lowered. “But I did read how you were confused by my actions.”

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