Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)

“Lu? Huh-uh. That’s the name of a car mechanic. An old, balding white guy with a stogie in one hand and dirty magazine in the other. Your mama did not birth an angel and name her Lu. Baby, what is your real name?”


I held my breath. Lu hated her name. Her nickname growing up had been Lug—a double whammy, a dig at her name and her size. She’d christened herself Lu the first day of college.

She offered her hand. “Lucinda Grace.”

What the hell? She’d told him her middle name without making him work for it?

Raj ran his mouth across her knuckles and nuzzled the inside of her wrist. “I’m Raj. The man who’s gonna ruin you for all other men.”

“Raj,” she cooed. “Let me try that out. See how it sounds rolling off my tongue.” She let her head fall back. “Yes, Raj. Right there. Oh, baby, oh Raj, you know I need it harder.” Then she said, “Raaaaaj,” on a throaty moan, dragging his name out to six syllables.

I didn’t dare look at Boone. Or Raj for that matter.

“Your lips were made to say my name, Lucinda Grace.”

“My lips were made for a lot of things. Buy me a drink and let’s discuss some of my favorites in detail.”

He yelled, “One glass of champagne for finding the woman who’ll bear my children,” at the bartender and slipped his arm around her waist, directing her toward the bar.

Lu sent me a wicked look over her shoulder. “Black snake moan is gonna have a whole new meaning tonight, girlfriend.”

And they vanished into the crowd.

“So now you’ve met Raj,” Boone said dryly.

“It is a pity that our roommates don’t get along.” I looked at him. “Is that his play? Propose, flatter and fuck? Because Lu has her own playbook.”

“They oughta be well-matched then.” His eyebrows drew together. “But that’s a first for Raj.”

“For Lucinda Grace too.”

He chuckled and took my hand. “Now I’m glad we drove two cars.” Boone stepped up to the bar. The man was so rugged and masculine I couldn’t look away from him. “What do you usually drink?”

I’d like to drink you down. In one greedy gulp.

“Sierra?”

“A…margarita.”

He ordered a margarita for me and a Corona for himself.

I rested my forearms on the bar next to him. “So…soldier. Come here often?”

He gave me that “you’re a dork” smile I remembered. “First time. You?”

“First time. Lately I’ve been too busy to hit the clubs. Parties are more laidback. Or they’re a drunken free-for-all which is also fun.”

“Sounds like the first weekend furlough during basic.”

“Do you have much time to go out to the bars now?”

Boone shrugged. “There’s a group of us that hang out on base. But it’s pool tables, darts, music on the jukebox. I prefer laidback too. You have a bunch of friends around here? People you used to hang out with before you moved?”

“No. I started at ASU with a clean slate. Random roommate assignment, which ended up being Lu. I keep a professional relationship with the people at DPM that I manage directly. Wouldn’t be a good career move to knock back Irish car bombs with my assistant. Or ask my accounts receivable manager to hold my legs during a keg stand.”

“Smart.”

“This year I’ve spent more time with the McKay-kateers. It’s easy with them, and their parties are fun. Lu drags me out on the weekends if our schedules mesh.”

When Boone’s eyes bored into mine, I braced myself for his next question. “So do you…date?”

“I’m team ‘hit it and quit it.’ In, out, done. There’s no mixed signals. What about you?”

“Same.”

Why I decided to push him…no fucking idea, but I did it anyway. “So no sexy army nurses have rocked your world? You thought, damn, I could do this again. Then you’re hanging out, not just for the sex, but because you like her. Then she starts leaving her shampoo in your shower and both sets of your friends stop trying to fix you up because you’re considered a couple?”

Boone studied me. By the hard set of his jaw I knew I’d struck a nerve. Would he answer or deflect it back to me?

Do you really want to know how many women have had their hands on him? Because no matter what he says, you’ll only focus on all those women who wanted to keep him, but couldn’t. And you know how that feels.

“You know what? Don’t answer that.”

The bartender delivered the drinks and Boone fished out his wallet to pay.

That made this feel like a date.

Is that what you want?

Boone slid my drink over.

I said, “Thank you,” and stepped aside, assuming we’d find a table.