Gone Country - Page 69/75

Boone shook his head. “It’s a done deal.”

She wanted to scream at him, throw herself at his feet and beg him not to go, but that was the epitome of childish. Instead, she tossed off a breezy, “Fine. Whatever. Go be a hero. Get yourself killed. Later.” She sidestepped him and ducked around the front of the car, hoping to make it inside before her tears were obvious.

But he latched onto her upper arms and forced her to look at him. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.”

His gaze roamed over her face. “Then why are you crying?” he demanded softly.

“Because I hate that you’re doing this stupid thing. And I hate you.” The last word came out as a sob.

“No, baby, you don’t.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Sierra. Come here.”

“No! Don’t touch me.”

“You don’t mean that either.” Boone crushed her to his chest.

Sierra fought him for a few seconds, swinging punches that didn’t land, yelling and thrashing, but he just held on. She gave up fighting the pull of him and clung to him as she cried.

How many times had she imagined Boone holding her, stroking her hair and murmuring sweet things to her? Hundreds. But never like this.

Her voice was muffled against his chest when she finally spoke. “When do you go?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

She froze. Then she squirmed away. “You’re just telling me now? When did you sign up?”

Boone looked away.

“Tell me.”

“Three days after your accident.”

Sierra felt all the air leave her lungs. The blood drained from her face and she was drowning. Her lips formed the word why.

“Because that night at Tyler’s party when I told him we were together? I wanted it to be real.”

“You think I would’ve shot you down, Boone?”

“No.” His eyes were locked on hers. “I know you would’ve said yes.”

Her cheeks burned with mortification; he’d known how she felt all along.

“You understand my history. Since I was twelve years old I’ve been counting off the damn days until I can get the hell out of Wyoming. Last fall, the start of my senior year, I was taking the prep classes I needed and I was getting a year of practical experience as an EMT and moving on was finally within my grasp. And then you showed up.

“From the moment we met on the bus, you sucked me in. You were so gorgeous, feisty, funny and sweet—and so easy to talk to. I tried to stay away from you, but something about you, Sierra, just kept pulling me back.”

She stared at him, absolutely speechless.

“That night at the party I wanted to kill Tyler for thinking he had the right to put his hands on you. After the accident, I about lost my fucking mind because you were hurt… That’s when I knew you could keep me here. If I got involved with you, like I wanted to, I wouldn’t leave. And I have to leave. I had to have a solid plan to go so I enlisted.”

“No.” Sierra found her voice and said it louder. “No.” Then she was screaming at him. “No, no, no, no, no! You don’t get to do this to me, Boone. You don’t get to treat me like a friend, and then tell me you’ve always felt more for me…the night before you fucking leave! You don’t get to make me feel guilty for you joining the army because I have some kind of magical hold over you. That’s total bullshit and it’s not fair!” God. This could not be happening.

“Not fair? You think this has been easy for me? Especially the last four months? When we’ve been together all the damn time because I couldn’t stay the hell away from you? And I had to act like it’s not fucking killing me when you look at me like your world would be perfect if I just kissed you.”

She slapped her hands on his chest and shoved him. “The only thing you can kiss, Boone West, is my ass.” She spun around and considered kicking over his stupid bike as she skirted the back end of her car. Jerk. Asshole. Jerkoff. Asshat. He wanted to leave her? Fine. He could leave her. She’d be better off.

Such a fucking liar you are, Sierra.

“So that’s it?” Boone shouted. “That’s how you’re gonna say goodbye to me?”

Sierra whipped a U-turn and marched back up to him. “How did you expect I’d say goodbye? Strip my clothes off and let you take my virginity in a field of wildflowers under a full moon? Screw that. I’m saving my virginity for someone who deserves it. And. That. Is. Not. You.” She punctuated each word with a poke on his hard chest.

Boone said, “You do that,” in a throaty rasp she’d never heard from him. “In the meantime, I’m taking this.” He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and clamped the other on her butt, pulling her in for a kiss.

She should’ve shoved him away. But his kiss was like a drug. Intense, determined, amazingly seductive—as if he was trying to convince her that his passion for her was real. That he’d been imagining this kiss for as long as she had. That he’d wanted it as much. Mouths and tongues clashed and she slipped her arms around his waist, her hands clutching his shirt.

The kiss was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Rough and sexy, bringing alive things inside her she’d heard about but had never felt.

Then Boone slowed it down. The kiss became soft. An unhurried tease, as if they had all the time in the world to explore. To learn each other.

But they didn’t. By this time tomorrow, he’d be gone.

Sierra kept kissing him even as her tears fell.

Then Boone’s hands were on her face, trying to wipe away the moisture but her tears ran over his fingers.

He moved his mouth back; she felt his lips against hers and his breath in her mouth as he whispered, “Sierra. Baby, please don’t cry.” He planted tender smooches on her lips. His mouth wandered down her neck and her entire body erupted in goose flesh. He nuzzled the sweep of her shoulder and stopped, breathing against her skin.

She had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing when he strung soft kisses along her collarbone, right where the injury had hurt the most. But that pain was nothing compared to the pain she felt now.

Boone’s fingers entwined in her hair and he tipped her head back. His beautiful eyes were dark with remorse and something else, something that made her pulse quicken. “I knew it’d be like this between us.”

“But it’s still not enough.”

He didn’t answer. He just consumed her mouth again.

While kissing him was better than she’d dreamed, she still felt like someone was stabbing her in the gut with a rusty knife as Boone took the kiss deeper until she feared she’d never get out.

She broke away, resting her forehead to his.

“Sierra—”

“Don’t say anything.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Not looking at each other, clinging to each other, so close but so far apart.

She whispered, “I have to go.”

“Not like this.”

“There’s no other way. This was your choice.”

He placed one last soft kiss on her lips.

Sierra pulled away from him. “Goodbye, Boone.”

“See you around, McKay.” His hands fell away.

Sierra didn’t look at him. Not even in her rearview mirror as she bumped over the cattle guard and drove away.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ben and Quinn had enlisted Gavin’s help moving cow/calf pairs from one pasture to another. Helping wasn’t entirely accurate—he’d been designated the gate opener. But it’d been a great morning. Cruising around on four wheelers and watching his brothers work cattle. Listening to Charlie tell stories.

He climbed out of his Lexus, in desperate need to ditch his dirty clothes and hit the shower, when Rielle yelled at him from the closest garden. He met her halfway down the road and stole a kiss. “Hey, sexy lady. What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Sierra today? She swore she wanted to help me and I haven’t seen her.”

“No. But it’s summer vacation. She mentioned it was her right to sleep in until noon, at least the first week.” He couldn’t believe how early the school year ended in Wyoming. In Arizona, Sierra would be in school at least another month. “I’ll check on her.”

After brushing off the ever-present dust, he scaled the stairs and knocked on Sierra’s door. “Sweetheart? Are you up?” He heard a thump. But no answer. Then another thump. He turned the handle and opened the door.

Boxes were stacked beside her bed. Everything had been stripped off the walls. She stood by the closet, dumping winter clothes into a box.

“I told you not to come in without knocking first,” she snapped.

“I knocked. You didn’t answer.” His gaze moved over the organized destruction. “Are you planning to redecorate?”

“No. Just getting ready to leave.”

“Leave?”

Sierra whirled around. “Yes, leave. I’m done with the living-in-Wyoming experiment.”

Gavin stepped in the room, avoiding a pile of papers. “Whoa. You want to rewind and tell me what’s going on?”

She crossed her arms. Her face distorted into the sneer that indicated he’d just entered the battle zone. “Whoa? Enough with the fake-cowboy shtick, Dad. It’s embarrassing.”

He ignored the verbal jab. “What are you talking about, going home?”

“I promised you I’d stick it out an entire school year. School ended. You promised me if I hated it we could go home. I freakin’ hate it here and I cannot wait to get back where I belong.”

“Now wait just a damn minute. Nothing was set in stone. We were going to discuss it.”

“Nothing to discuss. I held up my end of the deal, it’s time for you to hold up yours.”

“What the hell happened? You didn’t hate Wyoming two damn days ago. I don’t get where this is coming from, so will you please explain it to me?”