A Perfect Mistake (8 page)

I could thank Verity
for that.

Cryptic little peach
pit.

Verity was like a
hot goad next to me. She sure didn’t kiss like a virgin, which
pissed me off. I didn’t like it that someone had taught her to
kiss like that. And the way she had moved her hand over my skin,
delved into my hair like I was the most wonderful thing she’d
ever touched...

Geezus. A guy could
get used to that.

And, I couldn’t
help but compare that kiss to the forgettable kiss I’d shared
with Marcy last night. There was no comparison. All I wanted to do
was get her away from here and…yeah…I must be outta my
mind. I wanted to talk to her.

Even my dick
went…WTF!

I shifted my
shoulders and my bare arm brushed against Verity. I noticed that she
didn’t move away.

I wondered if she
was conducting more fucking research.

Like how to tease
and taunt a man in ten easy fucking steps.

Geezus.

It was all I could
do to stand there and have Mrs. Fairchild gush all over me about the
sketches. Women were sure passionate about their flowers, but my
guess was that a lot of the beauty in the world came from women. I
know my ma sure was one beautiful lady.

Man that was a
detour into a tangent. My head felt fuzzy for a minute.

I wanted to groan as
my cell chimed. I pulled it out of my pocket, and when I saw it was
Booker again, and that I had already missed two calls from him this
morning, I knew I was going to have to talk fast when I called him
back.

My brothers were
going to kill me.

They were going to
fucking kill me and then lecture me and read me the riot act.

I didn’t give
a damn. Really, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.
Except nothing was settled right now. She hadn’t answered me
about going out with me. This was between me and Verity, and I was
damn sure going to find out what was going on with her.

That tough, silky,
curvy, hot peach pit.

It might just
fucking kill me.

The preacher’s
daughter knew how to take a man down with just a kiss. I couldn’t
and didn’t want to imagine how she would be….geezus, was
I a moron? Wood alert.
In
front of Verity’s mother,
like
I was the village idiot
.

Finally she stopped
gushing, and I felt kinda dizzy for a minute. I was wondering if it
had to do with all the testosterone zinging through my blood.

“I’ve
got to help Boone with the gazebo, Momma, and I promised to give
Lindsay a hand with the kids this morning.”

Her mother nodded
and I gathered up my boards. Kee-rist, didn’t these people
believe in air conditioning their house?

With the boards
under my arm, I followed Verity out onto the porch. My headache
tightened against my skull as the June heat blasted us, and I wobbled
slightly, putting my hand out to steady myself against the frame.

Verity didn’t
notice, and I trailed behind her across the church grounds, stopping
briefly at my truck to set all but the gazebo sketch inside. She
paused, looking back at me, and it took all I had not to grab her,
throw her in my truck, and take her somewhere where we wouldn’t
be interrupted again.

But I wasn’t
going to make any advances. Talk about complicated sex. I’d
never faced anything like this. I wanted her. My tight balls and hard
dick were a testament to that. But I also needed to understand what
was going on between us. I felt like I had missed a few pages out of
the book we were both reading and was completely clueless as to what
had happened in the missing pages.

To say I was freaked
was an understatement.

She continued on to
the rectory, and I waited while she explained to Lindsay she was
going to be slightly delayed.

I stood there and
wondered why the hell they couldn’t use air at this church. Was
it a financial issue? Geezus. I couldn’t breathe it was so damn
hot.

Wait, the air was on
yesterday. Wasn’t it?

Verity was talking,
but her words were getting jumbled in my head.

I felt weak all of a
sudden, and I pressed my back against the wall. What was wrong with
me?

Was there something
wrong?

I closed my eyes and
tried to focus, but my thoughts kept splintering. That kiss had
melted me down. Just her kiss.

It was no wonder I
was light-headed, dizzy.

I filled my chest
and struggled with the heat rushing over my body.

The next thing I
knew. I was on the floor.

Fuck!

This was exactly the
way I liked to wake up, with a beautiful woman leaning over me, her
hand on my face, the white t-shirt curving over her breasts. I
wondered absently if she was wearing black lace again. Or maybe red.
Red was so sexy.

Her dark hair was
across my throat and mussed, like I’d had my hands in it.
Straight and black and parted in the middle, falling around a face
I’d seen in my dreams thousands of times.

She was so beautiful
it broke my heart. My gaze went over her. Everything around her was a
fuzzy, whirling mess, but Verity’s face was so clear.

She’d been
hurt and it made me feel so bad. I would never hurt her.

But her eyes had
said differently. Somehow I’d hurt her and I didn’t know
how.

“How?” I
whispered, my lips so dry, my mouth parched.

“Boone, are
you okay?” she asked, and her voice was so smooth, I closed my
eyes again, just to savor it. “Boone talk to me.”

“Do you want
me to get your daddy?” Lindsay asked.

“See if you
can find him.”

She pressed her hand
against my forehead and I reached for it and pulled it to my mouth.
“Oh, God, you’re burning up.”

I opened my eyes
again and took another look. Yup, I was burning up all right and she
was the source.

“Boone, you
have a fever. Were you feeling bad before today?”

“Yes, I’m
bad. I’m so bad.”

She sounded kind of
worried, like she was genuinely concerned…but she was mad at
me, right? I opened my eyes, and she was even closer than she’d
been before, almost on top of me, leaning over me, one of her hands
sliding up to my brow, like she was feeling for a fever that same way
she’d caressed me in her tiny bathroom like I was so wonderful
to touch.

“God, so
good.”

“Did you just
say God is good?”

I laughed, my mind
whirling, the headache pounding with my heart. It hurt to laugh. “No,
your touch. I’m wonderful.”

“Boone, you’re
not making sense.”

She was looking at
me so intently, her dark eyebrows bunching over her cinnamon eyes…or
were they closer to paprika? Her lashes were lush. I’d never
noticed that, her lips pink, the whole of her so creamy and lovely,
my heart broke again, right there on the spot.

“Verity, I
just remembered it’s your dad’s day to go to the nursing
home for his daily visit and your mom’s not answering the door.
Her car’s gone.” Lindsay said.

“She’s
probably gone to the market. This is the day she shops,” Verity
said, then she looked back at me. “Boone, can you sit up?’

She supported the
back of my head, slipping her hand over my back muscles. Geezus, I
loved the way she touched me.

“Lindsay, grab
a bottle of water out of the fridge for me.”

“What do you
think is wrong with him?”

“He’s a
dumbass male.”

I laughed. “Now
I’m a jerk and a dumbass.”

Lindsay laughed, too
and lowered her voice, but I could still hear her. “Well, he
might be a dumbass, but, man, he’s a gorgeous dumbass.”

“Lindsay,
could we focus here?” Verity said.

“Other than
being a dope. What do you think is wrong with him?”

“Headache and
fever. The knucklehead has the flu and he’s probably been
ignoring the signs. It didn’t help yesterday that he got
drenched and then sat in air conditioning.

Even though she was
calling me a dumbass, she was being really gentle with me. When the
cold water hit my lips, I tried to drink too fast and the bottle
tipped and splashed onto my chest.

“Geezus!”
I jumped and then started shivering.

“Lindsay. I’m
going to take him home. I’ll try to get ahold of his family.”
She turned back to me. “Boone, can you stand?”

I nodded and pushed
myself off the floor, my head reeling, but Verity was there to steady
me. She slipped her arm around me and guided me out the door. “The
sketch,” I said like it was the most important thing in the
world.

Lindsay turned back
and snatched it up off the floor, then followed us as Verity helped
me into my truck. I leaned back in the seat. My head was still
pounding and I was still shivering.

“Boone? Your
keys?”

“Front
pocket.” My joints started aching, and I didn’t even want
to move to dig for my keys. My head kept spinning.

I felt her hand in
my jeans pocket, and she made a grab for what she thought was the
bulge of my keys.

“Not the
keys,” I said as she grabbed my dick.

My still hard dick.

“Damn, Boone.”

I know. I was sick
and hard. But she’d been the one who was leaning over me with
her creamy skin and touching me like she liked it.

“Not my
fault,” I mumbled.

“I’m not
going to argue about who’s to blame for your hard-on right now.
Where are the keys?!”

“Other
pocket.” Was this a surreal-induced dream? Had the preacher’s
daughter just grabbed my junk and then said hard-on? Geezus.

She leaned across
me, which really didn’t help my hard-on at all. I buried my
face in her fragrant hair and she mumbled something under her breath.

I ran my hand over
her hair and she stiffened. It was so soft as it slipped through my
fingers. I rubbed some of the midnight locks between my thumb and
forefinger.

“Stop that,”
she said. “Where the hell are the keys?” She dug into my
pocket, trying not to dig too far.

“Oh, wait. I
think back pocket.” Some memory drifted past of me tucking them
there.

She huffed and
roughly pushed me forward, and then she was cupping my ass as she dug
in one pocket and searched. Tossing her head and sighing, she reached
for the other side of my ass. I was trying with all my might not to
react.

Once again not
helping my hard-on. Or it was. Depended on how you looked at it, I
guess.

“Finally!”
she yelled with triumph and held my keys up.

Shoving the key into
the ignition, she snapped. “Nothing is easy with you, Boone
Outlaw.”

“I’m
easy,” I said softly as she put the truck in gear.

“All men are
easy.”

I let my head drop
back. “That’s because you have what we want. And we want
it all the fucking time.” Had I said that out loud? Oh shit! I
must have, because she was looking at me with this drop-jawed look.

“You think
that’s a revelation to any woman on this planet?” she
said with smug womanness.

Was that even a
word?
Fuck
me, my head fucking hurts.

“I don’t
think you can take more medicine for at least three hours.” She
glanced at me. “You do have some at home, right?”

Apparently, I said
that out loud, too. “Yes, sometimes I get muscle aches from
lifting and I need it.”

She huffed again.
“You lift weights?”

“Yes, physical
work. Need muscles.”

“Oh, man,”
she mumbled under her breath.

The next thing I
knew she was shaking me. We were pulling up to my house. She pushed
the garage door opener and maneuvered the vehicle into the open
space. My other space was taken up with a sleek new Harley-Davidson
Street 750, midnight black like Verity’s hair.

She glanced at the
bike as she came around to the passenger side, her eyes sliding over
all that glossy metal. My dick tightened. I don’t know why, but
it turned me on that she was ogling my sweet ride.

She pulled my door
open and I thought I was moving so coolly and smoothly, but I lost my
balance as a dizzy spell knocked me for a loop. There was no way
Verity could catch me, and I slammed against the concrete of the
garage floor. But I just kept talking.

“It’s a
beautiful bike right? It’s got a liquid-cooled 60-degree V-twin
whose chain-driven single overhead camshafts operate four valves per
cylinder via roller rockers with screw adjusters. Cool modern, design
right? It goes right back to the V-Rod of 2001. The 60-degree design
was chosen to help reduce the height of the wet-sump engine, which
helps keep seat height and center of gravity low. Brax has a hog, but
I like the sleeker bikes.”

“Boone! I’m
sure it’s an impressive bike. But, could you take it slower?
Okay. You’ve got a high fever and you’re not exactly
firing on all cylinders, sugar.”

Everything inside me
froze and I lost my train of thought.
Sugar
.
She called me sugar. Damn if I didn’t like that.

She bent down again,
getting all up in my personal space, pressing her breasts here and
there when she tried to help me up.

Again. Not helping
my fucking hard-on.

I stumbled up the
stairs.

“Where’s….your…bedroom?”

“First door on
the left.”

Verity

I ducked inside his
room, taking in everything. His house was beautiful, his bedroom
shockingly neat. When he saw the bed, he stripped off his t-shirt,
revealing all that muscle from pumping iron, and it was…spectacular.
I got lost in his back alone, not to mention the broad shoulders that
rippled when he reached for the tab on his jeans. It was an
oh,
shit
moment. But I couldn’t stop him. Before I could look away, he
just shucked them and his underwear off, stepped out of them.

Boone Outlaw.

Naked.

Gloriously naked.

His lower back was
beautiful as it tapered down to a lean waist, the globes of his ass,
hard as a rock, rolling with power when he walked, power that showed
in the backs of his thick thighs and heavily muscled calves. Oh.
My…Criminy…Holy…Damn…Cow! A tight,
gorgeous, tanned hunk of temptation that pulled at me like a vortex.