Her Rancher Bodyguard by Brenda Minton Page B

barn. She gripped his hand hard, clenching her fingers around his. He didn’t really have a plan; he just knew if she was going to fall apart, the barn wasn’t the place to do it. She didn’t need to be where anyone could walk in. The last thing she needed was a lecture about family from an older brother who had just showed up in her life last year.
    As they walked she seemed dazed, moving her feet one in front of the other without really paying attention. He kept hold of her hand, keeping her upright and moving. They ended up at his place. He led her up the steps and inside.
    Thanks to Daron, the place smelled like wet dog, dirty socks and burned eggs. She wrinkled her nose but didn’t say much. He pointed her toward the sofa and she complied without argument.
    â€œDo you want something to drink?”
    She laughed at the question. Boone brushed a hand across his face and shook his head.
    â€œIced tea?” he offered the second time around.
    â€œThank you.” She sat curled up on his sofa, legs tucked beneath her. She reached for the afghan, sniffed and tossed it back to the opposite end. “You have a dog.”
    He laughed. “Yeah, I have a dog. And I have Daron McKay. Both of them shed, smell and leave messes.”
    What had started as laughter on her end suddenly turned into quiet sobs as he poured the tea. He grabbed two glasses and headed her way. She didn’t cry pretty. Or maybe she didn’t cry often and so this was the proverbial dam bursting. He sat down next to her, placing the glasses on the coffee table.
    She didn’t look like a woman who wanted a hug. She was stiff and curled into the corner of the sofa. He let her be because his sister Janie was like that. She wanted to do it all herself, alone, even grieve. He was his mother’s son, so it was hard for him to let someone grieve alone. He wanted to wrap his arms around the person and he wanted to make it all okay.
    Kayla elicited that response from him quicker than he would have imagined. She was about as broken as a woman could get, hiding all of that destruction behind her brazen actions and big smiles.
    He wanted her pieced back together and whole.
    Not that it should matter to him. She wouldn’t be in his life that long. He guessed it was a little like his Scout leader used to say about a wilderness camping trip. Leave it better than you found it.
    He’d like to leave Kayla a little better off when they parted ways.
    Next to him, she’d stopped crying. She shifted, moving toward him by slow degrees. When her head touched his shoulder and she sighed, he came undone just a little. Expect the unexpected, that was what he knew about her. This softness would definitely qualify as unexpected. She melted against his side, her arm digging into his ribs just the slightest bit. He shifted and somehow that put her a little closer rather than putting distance between them.
    Her face was in the crook of his neck, her breath warm, her touch light. And then she shifted a bit more, and her mouth touched his. This was crossing the line. He had that thought just as her hands moved to his shoulders, turning him to face her.
    She brushed her lips over his, hesitant and seeking. The third time he fell into the kiss, giving up a little control. Her hand, soft and timid, was on his cheek. He pulled her a little closer and her hand slid to the back of his neck, her fingers skating through his hair.
    Outside the dog barked; a truck door closed. He pulled away. She moved back, her eyes bright.
    He started to apologize but she shook her head. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. Even if you are. I’ve felt empty for so long, Boone. I’ve raced through life trying to fill up the empty spaces. I’ve kissed men who meant nothing and made me feel nothing. You have no idea how much I needed that kiss. I needed to know that I could still feel.”
    What could he say to that? He sat back on the sofa and