I loved the way I felt cared for with him. Marty would’ve laughed at me falling down. Taken it as his victory in the race. Or worse, called me clumsy. And of course, he couldn’t just pluck me up from the ground and into his arms like I weighed nothing, like Boone just did. No matter what he thought of himself, he wasn’t that strong.
“Ahh, I see.” Boone started walking, still carrying me as he continued on. “This was just your ploy to be carried on this hike.”
I laughed. “No. I can hike.”
He shook his head, a smile tipping up the corner of his mouth. “No chance, beautiful. You’re in my arms now, and I’m not putting you down. So pay your way with a song.”
Pay my way with a song.
I laughed. We were out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but trees and mountains and snow all around. “Okay. You have to imagine it with my guitar, too.”
“I want to hear it a capella. Just your perfect voice, like you’re gonna do tonight at the concert. And when we get home, I’m going to strip you naked, fuck you thoroughly, and put my guitar in your hands to hear it that way, too.”
If any part of me had been cold from the snow or brisk air, I was heated thoroughly now. I squirmed in his arms, turned on by his promise. Turned on by his interest in my music. Turned on by all the attention he showered on me that actually didn’t feel smothering at all. It just felt… well, attentive.
I drew in a breath, listening to imaginary guitar chords in my head to count me in. Then I sang one of my slower songs–a moody piece I’d written about a rainy day and unrealized dreams.
Boone didn’t even watch where he was going. His gaze was trained on my face with rapt attention. Wonder, even, as I sang to him.
When I finished, he slowly lowered me to the ground. “By the moon, did you write that yourself?”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat with pleasure.
“Summer, it’s incredible.” He shook his head with… wonder? “You have to sing that one tonight. How do you not have a recording contract?” His look changed to determination. “We’re going to get you a recording contract.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “We are? Just like that?”
“Yeah. I know someone in the biz. A former client. I can reach out. Do you have samples or a demo tape or whatever they call it?”
I blinked. We were in the woods, and he was making all these plans? It seemed like his big brain got working on an idea and ran with it. “Um. No. I mean, I did, but Marty has my computer. They weren’t real ones, anyway. I’d need to go into a real sound studio to record, and he said…” I broke off, feeling queasy.
“He said what?” Boone growled, brushing a finger over my cold cheek. He didn’t even need gloves.
Anger flooded through me. I’d believed that asshole. Now, with the distance of a few months and living with people who cared about me, I could see it was all part of his manipulation.
“He said I wasn’t ready.”
“Like he’s some fucking judge?” Boone scoffed.
“Right? He was just an asshole cop who liked country music.”
Whoops. I could see the intelligence behind Boone’s eyes as he cataloged the fact that I’d shared that Marty was a cop. I needed to be careful not to encourage his desire to exact revenge on Marty, as flattering as it might be.
“That song is ready,” he said. “You’re ready. People need your music. We’ll get you a contract, and the world will never be the same.” He stopped and rotated, so I could see where he pointed. “There are the trees.”
I followed his finger to see a vast expanse of small pine trees, planted in neat rows.
“Are these the babies?” I asked.
“Not saplings, but you’re right, they are too small still to sell. These trees are about three years old. They’ll be ready in another three.” He lowered me to my feet, took my hand, and led me down a hill. On our right side spanned another large grid of trees. It was clear these were planted in comparison to the natural forest we’d walked through from his cabin. “This lot is four years old. The trees that are ready for this year are down a bit further.” He pointed in the direction of two log cabins, larger than his, with smoke coming out of the chimneys. “That’s where Ace and Roy live. The larger house is where we grew up and Ace lives there. The building in the back is Roy’s place, which also has his woodworking studio.”
I glanced up at him to read his expression. His two brothers lived together but Boone had chosen to build his cabin far apart from them. Apart from everyone.
“Do you not get along?”
Boone’s expression was wooden. He shrugged. “I abandoned them when they needed me most. So yeah, there are some hard feelings. But we still take care of each other.”
I had no brothers or sisters, but still, grief slid through me for him. I could feel his guilt and regret, and I wanted to rip it from him. Give him a chance for a fresh start. With his brothers. With the pack. With me.
