Page 84 of Lost Then Found
I can’t help but wonder—do women still throw themselves at him? Do they bat their lashes and laugh too loud when he talks? Does he take them home? Do they touch his curls, dig their nails into his back?
Does it bother me?
I take a long swig of my beer.
“What?” Boone’s voice is curious, teasing. When I glance at him, there’s a lopsided smile playing at his lips.
I shake my head, shifting my focus back to the land stretched in front of us. “Time changed you, that’s all.”
His expression turns thoughtful. “That a good thing?”
I study him for a second, take in the way the dim porch light casts a glow over his face, the faint creases at the corners of his eyes that weren’t there before. Then I nod. “Yeah. It is.”
Something flickers across his face, but before I can place it, I look away.
He clears his throat. “Time changed you too.”
I laugh. “Funny how time’s always doing that. Changing things.”
I hold my beer out to him. Boone takes it, fingers brushing mine, and there’s something so easy about it, so familiar, that I don’t think either of us realizes it’s happening until it already has.
He brings the bottle to his lips, taking a slow sip, before lowering it again. “I came back to see if running the ranch is really what I want.”
I glance over at him.
He exhales, staring out at the land like it holds the answer. “Dad left the ranch to me, but I don’t want it out of obligation. I want to know it’s something I’m choosing for myself.”
He nudges me lightly with his elbow, his lips curving just slightly. “Guess that puts us in the same boat.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “Is it what you want? Settling down here, running the ranch? Having a family of your own to raise here?”
Boone doesn’t answer right away. He watches the land stretch dark and quiet in front of us, the fields rolling under the moonlight. Then he exhalesslowly, like he’s trying to work through the answer himself.
“Maybe,” he says finally. “I’d have to find the right person first. But if I did…” He trails off, shrugging one shoulder. “Wouldn’t be so bad.”
I take another sip of my beer, feeling the cool glass press against my lips. “Good luck finding someone to put up with your shit.”
Boone barks out a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Hey.”
He grins. “You used to be worse than me.”
“That’s a damn lie.”
“Uh-huh.” He leans against the railing, that teasing glint in his eyes. “Who was it that convinced me to sneak into the rodeo after hours just so we could take a midnight ride around the arena?”
I bite back a smile. “That wasWren’sidea.”
Boone scoffs. “Oh, so now you’re blaming Wren?”
We go back and forth for a moment, the conversation slipping into something familiar, something easy. I forgot how easy it was with Boone. How it had always been like this, how he was my best friend before he was ever anything else.
He tilts his head toward me. “You remember Old Faithful?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
The old house on the south end of the property. Faded blue paint, a wraparound porch that was falling apart at the seams.
