In my bedroom, I kicked off my heels and ditched my clothes for my bikini. After twisting my hair into a messy bun, I returned downstairs to whip up a batch of margaritas. I opened the sliding glass door and yelled, “Incoming!” before I grabbed the tray.
Lu had her top on and she’d cleared a space on the table between the loungers. I handed her a glass, poured one for myself and lowered into the chaise. One long sip of cold, boozy, limey goodness and I felt the tension melting away.
“Killer margs, S.”
“Thanks.”
“So…your day. Were you dealing with Bridezilla again?”
I groaned. My mother’s impending marriage reception resembled a circus. I had not-so-jokingly told Lu that my mom actually considered hiring Cirque de Soleil performers for the entertainment. Mom hadn’t laughed when I pointed out that no one wanted to dance to the sounds of flying trapezes and limbs being contorted. I hadn’t heard from her since. No surprise there. Our rocky relationship had crumbled completely after she’d returned from France and I did not miss her—or her petty, nasty bullshit. “No. Since the wedding is in a few weeks she must be on the downhill stretch and anything she changes now will cost Barnacle Bill big bucks.”
Lu snorted. “You will slip up and call him Barnacle Bill to his face one of these days.”
“No doubt.” My mother’s husband-to-be had earned his millions from the fishing boat companies he owned up and down the Gulf of Mexico. He’d retired to Arizona, away from the water. Then he started golfing as if it was his religion. He and Mom had a meet-cute when she accidentally ran over his foot on the golf course. Bill was immediately smitten by my mother’s youth and beauty—and the fact she didn’t care if he golfed seven days out of seven. She in turn was completely smitten with his money. A true match made in heaven.
“It’s not Mommy Dearest, then… Is Dharma being a dickhead again?”
“Dharma”—the codename I’d assigned to Greg, the asshole business operations manager for Daniels Property Management—“is greasing up his pole, probably with his hair, at one of those Club Med type resorts for old single dudes. I have an entire week off from him.”
Lu held her glass over to mine for a silent toast.
“My day took a bizarre turn right before lunch when Boone West waltzed into my office.”
Her white-blonde pigtails bobbed when she swung her head toward me. “You’re shitting me.”
“I am not shitting you at all.”
“What the ever-lovin’ fuck? He sauntered in just out of the blue?”
I squirmed. Drained my drink and reached for more. I hadn’t told Lu I’d run into Boone in Wyoming as I’d chalked it up as a fluke.
“I recognize that fidgety-ass avoidance behavior of yours, ho-bag. Spill.”
“I ended up at the doctor’s office in Sundance. Sergeant West was there for medical training. Total fucking shock to see him, so at first I pretended not to know him…” I told her everything.
By the time I finished she was laughing so hard she couldn’t hold onto her margarita glass. “Omigod, S, that is classic. You passed out and he had to carry you? And then he gave you a shot in the ass?”
“Living life as a class act, that’s me,” I retorted.
“Does Boone look good?” Lu asked.
“He looks better than ever,” I said automatically. The only comparison I had between Old Boone and Second Edition Boone was in my head. It’d bugged me not to have any pictures of the two of us. He’d always refused. I had one grainy shot I’d secretly snapped of him as he’d run laps around the track at the high school. But I’d lost that one in a data crash.
“What did he want?”
“No idea.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. He wants to…talk.”
Lu refilled her glass. “About what?”
I blinked. “I don’t know.”
“Then maybe you ought to…talk to him and find out.”
“Or maybe I ought to skip a conversation with him and just stab myself in the heart to save him the trouble of doing it to me again.”
I felt Lu staring at me. “It still hurts that much? What happened between you two seven years ago?”
Yes. No. Shit. Maybe. I sighed. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
“Then I’ll toss it out there that by not talking to him, you’re not allowing either of you a chance for closure. All you’re doing is holding a grudge, and that’s not like you.”
“I don’t think he wants closure, Lu.”
“Well, duh. The man followed you from Wyoming to Arizona.” She started singing Michael Jackson’s “Wanna Be Startin’ Something.”
“Knock it off or I’ll punch you in the throat.”
She laughed. “Just calm your tits, girlfriend.” She slurped her drink. “Besides, why would that be a bad idea?”
I tipped my head back. The sky had taken on the white film that stretched across the horizon prior to sunset. Sometimes I missed seeing the stars. Stargazing had been one of Boone’s favorite things. And while he marveled at the stars, I marveled at him. My epic crush had been so embarrassingly obvious to him that I still blushed when I thought about it.
Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)
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