Page 161 of Lost Then Found
I smile. “Because for two straight years, I couldn’t convince him to wear anything else. Even to the grocery store.”
Molly laughs again, hugging the photos to her chest. “He’s nothing if not committed.”
Boone moves in beside me, his hand finding the small of my back.
Molly wipes her hands on her apron and steps back. “Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh rolls. Apple pie’s on the counter, still warm. Ify’all don’t hurry, that boy of yours is gonna eat half of it before we get there.”
Boone clears his throat beside me. “We’ve got a few things to wrap up in the barn. We’ll be up soon.”
Molly glances between us, that knowing glint in her eye, but bless her, she just nods, turns toward the house, and doesn’t say a word.
Hudson bolts after her, yelling something about dibs on the biggest roll.
And for a moment, I just watch them go. My chest aches in the best kind of way. Like I’m standing in the middle of something good. Something I didn’t think I’d get to have.
Boone’s voice pulls me back. “That was a really nice thing you did.”
I shrug, looking up at him. “Molly’s always been good to me. I just wanted to give a little of that back.”
His gaze stays on me longer than it should. Like he’s seeing something in me I haven’t let anyone else see in a long time.
I clear my throat, forcing a smile. “So. What exactly are we putting away in the barn?”
He grabs the rope off the post, winding it around his forearm, his grin slow and full of trouble. “You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes, but follow him anyway.
The walk to the barn is quiet, the kind that hums with something unspoken. The sun’s slipping below the horizon, the sky washed in soft gold and peach. The barn doors creak as Boone pushes them open, and the scent of hay, cedar, and leather spills out.
Inside, it’s dim. Still. The light overhead casts a golden halo over the worn wooden floor, the hay bales stacked high in the loft above. Horses shuffle in their stalls, the sound low and rhythmic, familiar.
I step inside, arms crossed. “Looks fine to me.”
I barely get the words out before Boone’s mouth is on mine.
His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him, and his mouth—God, his mouth—is all desperation and memory and promise. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, slow but sure, like he’s taking his time.
He kicks the barn door shut behind us, the deep thud echoing in thestillness. And just like that, it’s just us.
I let out a surprised sound, something between a gasp and a laugh, as Boone lifts me like I weigh less than a breath. His grip is strong, arms tightening around my thighs as my legs lock around his waist. I feel everything—his chest against mine, the burn of his skin through my shirt, the flex of muscle under my fingertips.
He doesn’t kiss me right away. Just looks at me—really looks at me. Like he’s waiting for me to tell him no, making sure this is what I want.
It is.
So I lean in, just a little. And that’s all it takes.
His mouth finds mine, and it’s all heat and friction—but not rushed. His lips move against mine like he’s reacquainting himself with every angle, every sound I make. His tongue slides against mine, slow and intentional, and I feel it all the way down my spine.
“Has anyone ever told you how barbaric you are?” I murmur against his mouth, smiling even as I try to catch my breath.
He pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes, his lips already swollen, his grin slow and shameless. “Only you.”
By the time we hit the hayloft, I’m breathing hard. Boone sets me down on the edge of an old blanket spread across the boards like he planned it, and he’s already got his hands under my shirt, pushing it up and over my head in one smooth motion.
Then he’s at my jeans, fingers working the button, tugging the denim down my thighs like he can’t stand another second of me being covered. I reach for his shirt, but he beats me to it, pulling it off with one hand behind his neck, tossing it to the side like he couldn’t care less where it lands.
And then I’m just looking.
