Page 38 of Boomer
When he stood still and let her choose? She didn’t know what to do with that.
She didn’t know how to beseenwithout being dominated or respected without beingdeferred to. Maybe that’s why she pulled back. Not because he demanded too much.
But because he asked for nothing. In her world, that was a trap she’d never been taught to navigate.
Bash’s eyes narrowed. “I heard he almost got you killed yesterday.”
Taylor whirled on him. “What? He didnot. He saved my life. He’s an amazing breacher and a fine warrior. Don’t youdaresay that about him, Bash. I mean it.” Her voice caught just slightly. “I won’t be able to stay friends with you.”
He stepped in closer. “What if I don’t want to be friends anymore, Taylor. What if I realize I was an idiot and I shut you out? Can’t we put that in the past and explore what we had?”
“I don’t think so. So much time has passed, and I’m not sure I have those kinds of feelings for you, Benedict.”
“Come on, love. Give it some thought. Don’t put the kibosh on it until you remember what happened between us and how good it was.”
He had been fun. So much fun. They’d laughed and loved for hours. He was beautiful. Kind. Powerful. For a time, it had felt like enough. But he wasstrong-willed, loud in the way that left no space for her to breathe. He never meant to overwhelm her. But he had. Back then, she hadn’t known how to protect her own space.
How could she even entertain thoughts about Bash when Boomer intruded. Somehow, by doingless,by never asking, never pressing, he’d wrecked her completely.
He was warm. Gentle. What they shared in the kitchen wasn’t just food. It was heritage and touching that man, seeing how her cooking, her respect for his Oma made him light up inside, left nothing but a craving for more. Trust.
Quiet magic. Boomer didn’t try to stake a claim. He just showed upandstood still enough for her to reach for him if she wanted.
Shewanted.
She could still feel the heat of his mouth. Still taste him, and it was enough to erase every faded memory of Bash. “I can’t promise you anything,” she said carefully. “That wouldn’t be fair.”
Bash nodded, but there was a flicker in his eyes, a brooding refusal to lose.
It made her nervous. It always had.
“Round two with our captives,” she added, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”
But in truth she was already gone.
She turned and froze. Boomer stood in the doorway. Jeans. T-shirt. Just worn denim that clung to thighs built for wrecking doors, and a soft gray tee that stretched over his chest and shoulders like it knew better than to resist him. His arms were crossed, forearms flexed just enough to show the veins, and his dog tags swung lazily against the cotton.
Effortless. Dangerous in so many good ways. Completely unaware of what he did to her.
The jolt of seeing him cascaded through her, sharp, hot, immediate. She smiled before she could stop herself, stepping closer with a calm she didn’t feel.
“Good morning, handsome,” she murmured, brushing her palm over his forearm as she slipped past him, a pretense to steady herself. But she just needed the heat of him. Thegravity.
“What? No breakfast? Not even aBrötchen?” His tone was teasing, but her body locked up for half a second. Bash’s comment. The kitchen. The old echo of never giving her power away, never settling for less. Deeper still, her mother’s voice.Never give your life to a man who will use it to build his own.
Gretchen Hoffman had ruled their house with cold logic and ambition. Her father, gentle and passive, had stepped aside without a word. Her brother had lost the battle, hadn’t survived it. He'd been art and vulnerability, all the things Gretchen crushed. Taylor had escaped by becoming everything Emil wasn’t—hardened, pragmatic, exacting. Now, standing in front of Boomer, she wondered what she had inherited. What had she lost, and what had her mother done to her?
Boomer’s voice cut through, low and warm. “I was kidding.” His eyes searched her face like he could sense the spiral. Like he knew. Of course he knew. His intuition wasuncanny.
She nodded. “You’d die for myBrötchen.”
He was watching her with no teasing now, no grin to deflect. Just a steady, unflinching look that stripped her bare. Their eyes locked, and something passed between them, silent and seismic. “That’s not the only thing I’d die for,” he said, his voice like gravel. Her smile stuttered, lips parting slightly. He leaned in, not much, just a tilt of his body toward hers, something that should’ve read as casual. But it wasn’t. Not with him. His nearness wasn’t empty space. It was deliberate and warm. The rich color of his eyes caught her off guard again; they were so deep and potent. A deep forest, shadowed at the edges, sharp as a blade when he focused on her. There was nothing soft about them, but somethingtrue, something that watched the world and never looked away.
Her breath caught, sharp and involuntary. A single shiver threaded through her body, betraying her. Bash saw it. Of course he did. She didn’t turn to check. She simply couldn’t drag her eyes away from Boomer, but she felt the shift in the room. The sharpened silence. The weight of two very different kinds of attention. He didn’t touch her, but damn she wanted him to. He was already under her skin.
She wished she could ditch the entire day and interrogatehim. Dissect him. Understand the kind of man who could leave a woman breathless one night and centered the next morning.
Last night had felt like a preview of something so much bigger. Something…solid.Something that could hold weight. That couldcatch her, if she ever let herself fall.
