Page 37 of Love Me Again

She waited for him to finish that until, but he only stared at her with serious eyes that made her need to look away.

“When you showed up, and I explained what happened with you to my mom, she said that I should…tell you the truth. That I owe you the truth. And she isn’t wrong. Very rarely. I may want to do the opposite out of some knee-jerk, black sheep, fucked up impulse, but she’s right and⁠—”

“Maybe I don’t want the truth delivered twenty months too late,” she said, cutting him off because this serious, honest Boone made her afraid and she was so damn tired of being afraid.

But his blue eyes were so earnest, and even as she warned herself to keep her sanity in place, her sad little heart softened and somehow Boone was inside the cozy little cabin.

“You’re here, Jo.”

He had her there, but it felt unfair since he was the one using his family to keep her here. But he certainly hadn’t lured her here.

“I wouldn’t be if your lawyer wasn’t as big of a liability as mine.”

He sighed. “I’m sure that’s true,” he said, almost diplomatically. It was so unlike him she could only stare. “Truth be told, when your lawyer stopped pushing, I thought… I thought maybe it meant there was still a chance to fix this. If I could just get myself back together, and get back to the rodeo, we could work things out.”

Work things out. She stared at him, gaped at him maybe, for a good silent minute before she could find the incredulous words. “You’ve been sitting around waiting for your leg to not heal thinking I’d jump back into a broken marriage with you two years after you left me high and fucking dry?” The last four words came out on a screech.

He winced a little, but he didn’t back down. He stood in front of her and held her incredulous gaze.

“See, you sound surprised, but you know me, Josie.”

Which she had no real answer for, because yes, she knew him. And that was just the kind of ridiculous thing he would think, if it suited him. He wasn’t an optimistic man by any sense of the word, but when it came to what he wanted, he always seemed to think whatever it was would work out.

Whether he earned it or deserved it or believed in it were other things.

“I didn’t want to be a burden to you.” He said this as low and as earnest as he’d said their vows and too many emotions to sort through clogged in her throat because she longed for that innocent hopefulness and love she’d felt then.

“So you ran away and left me with every other burden? Just not you? That really worked out for me.”

She could watch the pain chase over his face, and she wanted to feel some kind of victory in that. She could hurt him like he’d hurt her, and wasn’t that fair and right and just?

But she only felt like crying.

“I know nothing worked out quite right,” he said, his voice rough. He raked a hand through his hair.

“And yet none of those words are I made a mistake and I’m sorry.”

“I am sorry.” His gaze was sincere, and part of her believed his apology, but it only made her angrier at the fact he would admit part but not all.

She let that anger cut through all the sadness and grief and pain. Anger and fury took over, and she had never been a fan of being angry, of being mean. She knew it only left her guilty and sad after, but in the moment she was so damn glad to be suffused with something that felt like power—even if she’d regret it later. “Ah, you’ll give a sorry, but Boone Tyler still won’t admit a mistake.”

His mouth firmed, some of his own anger flashed in those blue eyes. It was relief. If they were both angry, she wouldn’t…

Well, it wouldn’t do her any good to consider the consequences of soft feelings and Boone Tyler these near two years later.

“In the moment, it didn’t feel like a mistake,” he said, measuring those all-important words of innocence and lack of blame oh so carefully. “Hell, it was your dad’s warning that…” He trailed off. Too late to hide the meaning.

Josie’s heart felt like it froze in her chest. “What?” Warning. Her dad.

Boone was shaking his head, but he couldn’t take back that she could follow his line of thinking. That trailed off sentence.

“What warning?” she demanded of him.

He shifted, looked up at the ceiling like her father might look down from the heavens and guide him.

But Dad was gone and Boone was saying… “What warning, Boone?”

“Before we got married. Your dad… He just pulled me aside and rightfully reminded me that you’d spent most of your life taking care of him.” He met her gaze then. Pained and sad and too many other things in his expression. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “So I should have a plan for what came after the rodeo before I let it chew me up and spit me out and leave you to pick up the pieces.”