Real Dirty (Real Dirty #1)

My eyes must be wide because Boone adds, “Don’t look so surprised. You know I’m no Boy Scout.”

I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m surprised. It’s just you sound so self-aware about it all.”

This time he laughs, and it’s a genuine one. “Because I am. I’ve got a family that keeps me grounded and stops me from screwing up too bad. And then I’ve got moments like this, when I can get away from being Boone Thrasher, country music’s bad boy, and just be Boone. Catching my own dinner, cleaning it, and cooking it has a tendency to remind me that even though some things have changed, I’m still the same redneck I’ve always been.” He shoots me a wink. “Although my kitchen’s a little fancier these days, the fish still tastes the same.”

I can’t help but voice the thought I had earlier. “You’re a good man, Boone.”

His smile takes on a wicked edge. “I might be a good man, but I want to do very bad things to you.”

That heat between my legs flares into a rush of need. With my fingers sticky from wings, I lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. My voice is husky when I speak again.

“Good. I can’t wait.”

Boone deepens the kiss, and I’m wondering if we’re going to get naked right on this dock, but the sound of another ATV coming toward the pond breaks us apart.

“What the f*ck?”

A headlight cuts through the dusk, shining on us.

“Boone! You gotta come back to the house. We got a big f*cking problem,” Anthony yells.

“What kind of problem?”

“The cops. They’re here with a warrant for your arrest.”