The way his eyes glinted with promise had me willingly playing into his hand. “And that would be?” I swallowed hard, wondering where my boldness had come from.
“It’s not often that I have the pleasure of having the company of a beautiful woman in my home, on my couch . . . so close, and well, sometimes, sometimes my nipples get cold.”
“Oh my God.” I burst out laughing. “You did not just say that!” I snorted.
“Did you just—”
“No, of course not,” I lied through my teeth and covered my mouth with my hand to hide my telling grin.
“It’s okay.” He leaned into me, softly wrapped his fingers over my wrist, and pulled away my veil. “I think it’s adorable.”
Boden’s bourbon-hued irises dropped to my mouth, and my lips parted. My skin tingled with goose bumps in response to the desire pooling in my core.
The past twenty-four hours had knocked my newly acquired life off course, and while I’d been steadfast in my decision to isolate myself behind closed doors, something about being in Boden’s presence brought me comfort. A feeling of security I hadn’t had the luxury of experiencing in a long time. That realization caused me to suck in a harsh breath and pull back to defuse my physical response to his touch.
“This isn’t how I saw this going.” I blushed.
“What . . . ogling my partial nakedness wasn’t part of the plan?”
“No, definitely not part of the plan—no offense.”
“I’d like to say none taken, but you’ve greatly wounded my ego.”
“You’re shameless.”
Boden gave me a sly wink. “How are you feeling? Any headaches or vision issues?” he asked before taking a swig of beer.
“No, thankfully. Just feel a little stiff in the neck.”
“You sure got lucky.”
I sighed and bowed my head, silently thanking my guardian angel before my gaze lifted and locked on Boden’s tattoo.
“Can I ask about the dates on your chest?”
He reached forward, put his beer on the coffee table, and rubbed his hand over the Roman numeral tattoos. “They’re my parent’s birthdates and . . . the date of their death.”
“Boden.” I gasped.
“It was a long time ago.” He spoke softly.
I stared openly at the three sets of numbers until it suddenly hit me. “They passed together?”
He nodded mournfully. “They were soulmates. Lived and breathed each other and my sister and me.”
“Can I ask what happened?” My question lingered in the air to the point I felt I’d overstepped.
“My dad had always dreamed of becoming a pilot. He studied after work and diligently put in the hours so that he and my mom could travel around the country once he retired. That day came earlier than he’d originally planned because he joked if they didn’t get moving, he’d never be able to fulfill my mom’s bucket list of adventures that seemed to never stop growing. He . . . he lived to see her smile.” The joy Boden conveyed when speaking of his parents co-mingled with pain was evident through the creases marring his features. “They’d just finished touring Yellowstone and were on their way back home when the fog rolled in quick . . . they said my mom was killed on impact, but my dad, he survived initially. It wasn’t until he regained consciousness later that day in the hospital—”
I moved forward to the edge of the couch, wrapped my arm around his, and rested my head on his shoulder in silent comfort while my heart bled right alongside him. The sheer gut-wrenching anguish vibrating through him was all too familiar, and I knew no words would ever suffice or ease his suffering, so I did what I desperately wished someone did for me—listen free from judgment as the rawness of one’s emotions exposed vulnerable cracks in their fortitude.
“His first and only words were ‘your mother’”—Boden choked—“and then the way he looked at me, I cracked, and he knew. He knew, without my words, the awful truth. My expression told him everything he needed to know, and it was too much. It was too much for him to bear. He went into cardiac arrest, and that was it. He was gone. My dad died of a broken heart.”
A sob caught in my throat.
Losing someone you had an irrefutable bond with was soul-crushing.
My grip on Boden’s arm tightened as the overwhelming need to anchor myself to him intensified. At that moment, I wasn’t exactly sure who was supporting whom more, but I knew with sureness there was no other place I’d rather be—holding each other up. In fact, the last thing I ever expected when I set out on my journey of rebuilding was to find someone like Boden. The unfettered connection that developed rather quickly between us with such ease opened a door I desperately sought, a door I wasn’t sure existed as I pleaded with the heavens for mercy to heal.
