Page 31 of The Cowboy's Best Friend

“Thing is, I don’t really see myself dating,” she said, still watching him closely. “I spent so long with one man, I wouldn’t even know what to talk about. I think I need a jumping off point.”

“You should do whatever you feel you need to do,” Boone told her. So steady. So patient. So supportive.

She folded her arms and felt her eyes narrow she studied him. “Dating feels like commitment. And I think I deserve to blow it all up. See what I’ve been missing.”

He said nothing to that, but that gaze of his was hinting at copper. And she knew that meant there was something else going on with him. Temper, apparently, if the last days since her divorce was finalized were any guide.

“I think, Sierra, that we both know you’ve been missing pretty much everything.”

For some reason that infuriated her. Or maybe it emboldened her.

“What I want is something with no strings and no attachments. Something that comes with strict rules so that no one is tempted to make it into something it’s not.”

She was certain that he went even more still with every word. But he didn’t reply.

So she kept going. “I’ve been told that you’re the man to talk to, Boone. That you’re a wrecking ball. A nuclear bomb. So I figure, since we’re best friends, I should try you first and see how all that wreckage treats me.”

She didn’t know what she expected. The house to burn down around them, maybe.

But it wasn’t for a light she’d never seen before kindle in Boone’s dark hazel gaze. Or the way he set his book aside, so carefully. How he got to his feet, slowly. Easily.

And yet, she could feel from across the room, withintent.

He walked across the living room in no particular hurry, and the strangest thing happened to her while he did.

Sierra had been looking at Boone Carey forever. Maybe she’d stopped seeing him. He was her Boone, her best friend, and she’d been happy with that. Yet tonight it was like she could suddenly seeallof him—and her mouth went dry.

How had she missed the fact that he was… beautiful?

He was so big. He was built like the linebacker he’d been in high school, big and tough and gorgeous. He was muscled… everywhere. The t-shirt clinging to his torso outlined all the planes and ridges that she’d seen a thousand times before—but tonight shefeltthem.

More, she wanted to reach out andtouchthem.

His face was that same wonderful face, but tonight she could see theintensityall over him. The jaw he kept unshaven most of the time and how cut it was. That mouth of his that she’d actually kissed, and the thought of kissing him tonight was not sweet or kind. The thought of kissing him tonightset her alight.

He was still Boone, but he wasn’t entirely her Boone anymore.

She had the odd thought that all this time, he’d been amanand she just…hadn’t seen it.

Maybe, something whispered,you couldn’t let yourself see it.

Now she couldn’t see anything else.

He never stopped walking toward her and as he came closer, she thought that he would stop. And maybe put his hands on her arms again, but he didn’t. He kept coming.

Until there was nothing for Sierra to do but either let him plow right into her, or back up.

She backed up. One step. Another.

And then her back was flush against the closed front door and he was still coming, still moving toward her with all that slow intensity until he was slapping a hand on either side of her head—

Yet he was still coming, still moving in closer, until his face was directly in hers.

“I told you to stop pushing,” Boone said, but he wasso closeto her.

And he washot.

How had she missed that he wasthis hot?

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