Page 216 of Lost Then Found
Wren is still scheming, making another grab for the brownies, practically wrestling Hudson for one while he guards the plate like it’s sacred.
“Seriously, justone,” she says, trying to swipe one when he looks away.
“Nope,” Hudson says, mouth full, holding the plate over his head. “You had your chance. You got smacked for it.”
“You’re twelve, you can’t eat an entire tray of brownies without dying.”
“Watch me.”
The front door creaks open, and before I even look up, I know it’s him. There’s this shift in the room—like everything just recalibrates.
Boone walks in, shirt clinging to his chest and back, damp with sweat. His face is flushed and there’s that damn backwards baseball cap, brown curls spilling out from underneath, messy and too much in the best way. His forearms are bare, tan, and dusted with dirt, his muscles flexing as he wipes his hands on a rag tucked into his waistband. His shoulders are broad, solid, filling the doorway like he owns the air around him.
I wonder—not for the first time—if I’ll ever stop thinking he’s stupid hot. If I’ll ever stop wanting to jump his bones the second he walks into a room looking likethat.Honestly? I doubt it.
He walks straight to me, pulling me into him like it’s second nature, his arms wrapping around my waist as he presses a kiss to the top of my head, his skin warm, smelling like sun and sawdust.
“How was going into town?” I ask, looking up at him, palms resting against the plane of his chest.
“Interesting,” he says, something flickering behind his eyes—hard to read, but I catch it.
I raise a brow, waiting for more, but he just gives me that look, the one that sayslater, and I let it go.
I rise onto my toes, kiss him slow, just long enough to feel the tension leave his shoulders, just long enough to forget we have an audience—untilWren’s voice cuts in.
“Seriously, go find a room,” Wren says, victorious now with a brownie in hand, half unwrapped from its napkin prison.
Hudson groans, dragging a pillow over his head. “They do this all the time now. It’s gross.”
Wren takes a bite, talks around it. “It’s because they’re the horniest people alive.”
Hudson lifts the pillow just enough to peek out. “What’s horny?”
I freeze. Boone laughs.
Wren blinks. “Oh…uh…”
Boone clears his throat. “It’s, uh—like…being hungry.”
“For people,” Wren adds.
Boone turns to her slowly. “Please stop talking.”
Hudson sits up now, fully invested. “So like…hangry, but for kissing?”
I bury my face in my hands. “I’m begging the universe to take me out right now.”
Wren shrugs, totally unfazed. “You said he needed to learn about real-life stuff.”
“Not like this!”
Hudson grins. “I’m gonna tell Ridge you guys are horny all the time.”
I lean into Boone’s side, arm still looped around his waist. “Yeah, well, Ridge is the horniest of us all.”
“Excuse me?” Ridge’s voice cuts in as he rounds the corner, still tying the drawstring on his sweatpants.
Hudson lights up. “They said you’re the horniest person in the house.”
