Catch A Fallen Star. Amy Vastine

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he growled.

CHAPTER THREE

      BOONE WAS NEVER truly alone. Lonely, yes. Alone, never. There were always plenty of people around. Some of them had a job to do. Most wanted something from him. He hadn’t figured out where this redheaded mystery fit in.

      “Did you hurt yourself?” he asked even though the grimace on her face told him she had.

      She inspected her wrist, wincing as she rolled it around. “Yes.”

      “Good.” Boone headed back toward his trailer. That was what she got for spying on him.

      “Good?” she shouted from the porch.

      This was exactly the kind of thing Boone was trying to avoid by coming to this place. He hated all the prying eyes and straining ears back in Nashville. Everyone wanted in his business.

      “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?” The nosy redhead wasn’t finished interrupting his scream therapy.

      Boone stopped and turned as she came barreling after him. He really shouldn’t have been mad. It wasn’t like the therapy he was testing out helped ease any of the frustration he felt. He was beginning to think every doctor/psychologist/psychiatrist/social worker he’d seen in the past few years was a quack.

      That didn’t mean he’d cut this intruder any slack, though. “I have a lot of nerve? You’re the one snooping around,” he accused her.

      Her face was flushed as she held her injured wrist against her chest. “Snooping? You sounded like you were being murdered! Excuse me for caring enough to make sure you weren’t dying.”

      “Nobody’s dying. Even you and your poor little wrist will live.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “You should really get those issues checked out. Whatever your problem is, it’s bad.”

      This woman sure was something. “The only problem I have is that you seem to think I owe you something because you tripped over your own two feet.”

      “I tripped over a rocking chair, thank you very much.” She smoothed her hair and tugged on the hem of her shirt. There was a bit of insecurity under all that tough talk. “Next time I hear you screaming, I’ll be sure to let whatever’s eating you have at it.”

      “Perfect,” he replied, hating himself for noticing the cute way her eyebrow was cocked. Fine, she was attractive, but he was not interested.

      She stared hard at him before spinning on her heel and taking off. Boone sighed with relief, but she stopped and came back at him. She apparently was never going to leave him alone.

      “You know, I have a friend who works for the Grass Lake Gazette, and I almost feel like it’s my duty to tell her to warn the good people of this town to steer clear of Helping Hooves so they don’t find out the almighty Boone Williams is an enormous jerk.”

      “So you do recognize me.” He knew it. She had almost fooled him earlier in the barn. Then the rest of what she’d said settled in. “Wait, who works for the paper?” It figured she was also in cahoots with one of his least favorite groups of people—the press.

      Instead of answering, she stormed off. He followed her for no good reason other than that she had made him lose his mind.

      “I’m here to get away from the media,” he said, trying his best to catch her. “I don’t need anyone publishing anything about me.”

      She was not only irritating but also incredibly fast. She made it to the barn before he could reach her.

      “Did you hear me?” When he touched her arm, she whipped around and swatted at him.

      “We have this thing called freedom of the press here in this country. Journalists can write about anything they want.”

      “I know they can. I got people writing baloney about me every day.”

      “Well, maybe you should think before you act and people wouldn’t have so many salacious things to write.”

      Boone felt his temperature rise. “You know nothing about me.”

      “Oh my gosh, Mom! Stop making a scene.” The woman’s daughter stood outside one of the stalls with her hands on her hips, staring them both down.

      “Stay out of this, Violet.”

      “Stay out of this, kid,” Boone said at the same time.

      “Don’t tell my daughter what to do,” the woman snapped.

      She confounded him. “We said the exact same thing.”

      Thankfully she looked a bit chagrined. “Just don’t talk to her.”

      “I don’t want to talk to either of you. I want you to leave me alone. Is that really too much to ask?”

      She softened for a moment. Maybe it was because her daughter was watching. Maybe she’d finally realized she was being completely unreasonable. “No, it’s not. I’ll leave you alone and you leave me and my daughter alone and I think we’ll both be happy.”

      “Absolutely.” Boone could not agree more. Alone. That was all he wanted to be.

      * * *

      AFTER THE DISASTER of day one on the farm, Boone hid out in his trailer most of the next two days. This seemed to bug Dean, who was determined to get Boone out and about. It had started with a simple dinner invitation that Boone had quickly refused. Next up, Dean had encouraged some time with the horses...and Jesse, the resident shrink. That wasn’t happening.

      Boone knew what Dean was up to. He thought that if Boone talked to this Jesse guy, he’d step into the studio and record a platinum single. Music didn’t work like that. At least not good music.

      By Tuesday afternoon, Boone was sick of the trailer and annoyed with himself for being curious if and when the spunky redhead might return with her daughter. It wasn’t like him to be preoccupied with anything other than when he was getting his next drink. Maybe it was his sobriety that had changed things, but it sure felt like the fire in that woman’s eyes had consumed him.

      Maybe his problem was starvation. When Dean had said his fiancée had stocked the kitchen with some basics, he’d meant the bare minimum to keep a person alive: some bread, peanut butter and jelly, a half gallon of milk, a box of macaroni and cheese, gummy bears and a bag of barbecue potato chips. Dean had obviously shared a list of Boone’s tour hospitality requests with Faith. These might have been all his favorite comfort foods, but Boone needed something a bit more substantial.

      “I want to go to town and buy some groceries,” he said when Dean stopped by to extend another dinner invitation.

      “Great!” Dean’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go. I can show you around and we can check out Main Street.”

      “I don’t need a tour guide. I need a car.”

      “We can take Faith’s truck.”

СКАЧАТЬ