Page 124 of Boomer
His voice was tight, low, dangerous. “He abused you and you let him until I stepped in.”
“I know.”
“Now you tell me this? Now?”
“I didn’t want it to shape you,” she whispered. “You were so good.You didn’t need to know.”
But he did know now, and it cracked something deep and foundational.What if all the worst parts of me came from him?He backed away from the table, photo still burning in his periphery. “I need to go.”
“Kelly, please.”
But he was already heading for the door, pulse roaring in his ears, hands shaking.
He didn’t slam it.
But the silence behind it was loud enough to level the house. Derrick was already coming up the path when Breakneck stepped outside.
He didn’t hesitate. Just walked straight for him, slow and deliberate, rage a silent current beneath his boots. The man stepped back. Everything in him was in utter chaos as he felt the world slip. “My mom looks good.”
Derrick's eyelashes fluttered, and he looked away. “I kept to my promise.”
Breakneck stepped closer. “That’s good because if I hear you’ve touched her with violence again, you’ll never see me coming.”
He bumped the man’s shoulder as he passed. His life was spiraling, anger engulfing him. He drove until he got somewhere remote. He left the car and walked away fast, then started to run, his scream of anguish witnessed by nothing but trees and birds.
Taylor didn’t hearthe gate. She was in the garden, dirt on her hands, sleeves pushed up, hair half-tamed in a braid. She couldn’t believe a year had passed already.
Boomer had spent a month with her in Lisbon through her resignation, through their packing and move to his beautiful house, where she’d immediately landscaped a whole garden. Boomer had insisted that she keep her cottage in Lisbon with everything in it so it would be easy for her to visit her parents. He told her he had everything handled financially, giving her the space and time she needed to raise her nephew.
Ansel settled into his school so well, thriving as spring approached. His art teacher was blown away by his talent. Ansel and Boomer? Oh,Gott, their relationship had grown into something so beautiful, she fell in love with him more every day. It wasn’t perfect, especially with Ansel’s anxiety when Boomer was deployed, but they both waited for him to come back to them every time. The lavender was starting to bloom, and she was down on her knees, coaxing roots into new earth, when she felt a shift in the air. A presence. She turned.
Boomer stood there, at the edge of the garden, shirtless, fresh from the shower, jeans slung low on his hips, his eyeswrecked, green and burning and locked on her like he hadn’t breathed since he’d been deployed.
She opened her mouth. There was no time to think. Only time tofeel.Neither of them said a word. She rose slowly to her feet, garden trowel falling from her hand. He stepped forward once. Twice. Then he broke.
He was on her, mouth on hers, hands everywhere. The kiss was unhinged and hungry, like he had no words left, like the only language left between them was touch. She gasped against his lips and clutched at his back, his skin so hot, his fingers dragging through the dirt-smeared braid at her neck.
“Ansel?”
“He’s on a sleepover with friends.”
“Thank God. I miss that kid…but?—”
He dropped to his knees, hauling her down with him, pinning her to the earth like he needed heranchored.Her back hit the grass, and her hands flew to his belt. She wanted him. Needed him. Rightfuckingnow.
“God, Carter,” she breathed, but he silenced her with another kiss, hot and rough anddesperate.
His voice was a rasp. “I need to be in you. Not just with you,insideyou.”
She yanked at his waistband and shoved his jeans down his hips, baring him to the garden air, to the heat rising between them. Her shorts came off fast, clumsy hands, frantic movements, and his mouth followed the edge of her thigh, the swell of her hip, like he had toblessevery inch of her with his tongue.
Their skin collided like fire meeting tinder.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he sank into her with a growl that was more like a prayer.
Her breath left her in a rush. “Yes. Yes—Carter?—”
Boomer pressed his forehead to hers, buried deep inside, both of them trembling. “You feel likehome, Red.”
