CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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The following morning, Bo sat next to Tara at church. He loved the flowery scent of her hair. He also loved getting out of the house. Before the service began Lily, the pastor’s wife, introduced herself and Bo shook her hand. “I remember you from the diner.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Her face lit when she laughed. She glanced down at his leg. “Oh, my! What on earth?”

“I wrecked my car. Tara happened to be behind me.” Bo glanced at Tara, who arched a warning brow, which he summarily ignored. “She was nice enough to stop and save my life. Now I’m imposing on her until I get this thing off.”

“Tara, don’t you dare leave until you tell me that story. I have to go.” Lily hurried to the front.

Tara elbowed him. “Thanks a lot. Telling Lily is like writing a press release.”

Bo laughed, barely resisting the urge to put his arm around her.

When the service ended, he moved to get up but Tara stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Let’s leave after the crowd so you don’t get stampeded.” Lily appeared and dragged the details of the accident out of Tara. Bo enjoyed every minute of it. When the place was empty, Tara stood. “I’ll get the car and come back for you.” 

“I hear you’re staying with Tara,” a deep voice said from beside him. Bo pivoted on his chair.

“I’m Brad. Lily’s husband.” 

“Bo Michaels.” They shook hands. 

“Lily told me what happened. It’s remarkable you had a nurse right behind you.” 

“My mom calls it a divine appointment.”

“I’ve had a few of those myself. How do you like that big old Victorian?”

“Well, I’ve only seen the main floor, but it’s beautiful.”

“Lily loves that place.” Brad chinned toward the back. “Looks like your ride is here.”

Tara walked toward Bo. He surprised himself with the thought of what she’d look like walking down that aisle in a white dress. 

They drove home and had a quick lunch. Bo went into his room and sat on the bed, his right leg propped on a pillow. He was tweaking his presentation for Nicholas when Tara knocked on his open door. “Are you busy?” 

Bo glanced up. “Not really.”

“What are you working on?” She hovered in the doorway.

“My presentation for Mr. Blake.” He waved. “You want to come in?”

Tara stepped in, taking her usual spot on the side of his bed. “How is it coming?”

He stretched. “I’m pretty much done.” He saw dark circles beneath her eyes. “You look tired.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m shy on sleep.” 

“So am I.” 

“Sorry for waking you the other night.”

“It’s okay. I have plenty of time to rest every day. Why don’t you go take a nap?”

She chewed her cheek. 

“Are you still freaked out?”

Tara nodded, dropping her guard just enough for him to see the fear in her eyes. “I feel like I’ll crack into pieces if I don’t get some sleep.” She paused. “But ... I don’t want to be alone.” 

After how tight-lipped she’d been, Bo knew the admission was difficult. “You can crash here.” He patted the sunny spot next to him. 

“You don’t mind? After all my talk about not crossing lines?” Her voice was thin.

Bo smiled. “It’s fine. But I was gonna sleep, too. You okay with that?”

She covered a yawn. “I think I’d say yes to anything right now.”

He held back a joke. “I’ll be right back.” He headed to the bathroom. When he came out, Tara was coming down the hall with a pillow and blanket. 

“I sleep better on my own pillow.” She gave an embarrassed smile. 

“And is that your favorite blankie?” He couldn’t help himself.

She gave him an eye roll and settled on top of his bed, her back toward him.

Bo chuckled and joined her, keeping a few inches between them. He struggled to position a pillow under his leg.

“Sorry.” Tara got up and did it just right.

“Thanks.”

She mumbled something unintelligible and collapsed again. Her breathing became slow and steady in less than a minute. It took Bo much longer to relax with her so close, but he finally slept. Tara shifted every so often, each time bringing him back to the realization that the two of them were on her bed. That line she’d been so adamant about was ebbing away like a message written on a sandy beach. 

Bo woke to her hand on his stomach, her head touching his shoulder. Every cell in his body lit up like a Christmas tree. It was dusk outside, lending the room a gray luminance. As if she’d felt his reaction, Tara’s eyes flew open. She blinked and withdrew her hand. “Sorry. I’m a space hog.” Her words were thick. She wiped the corner of her mouth, looked at his shoulder. “I hope I didn’t drool on you.” 

Bo laughed.

Tara let out a groan and sat up. “I feel drugged. You didn’t slip me a roofie, did you?” She elbowed his hip. Gave a small laugh.

Bo raised a brow, surprised by her sudden lack of inhibition. “I’m not in the habit of that sort of thing.” 

Another groan and Tara slumped back on the bed. Further away. “What time is it?”

He flicked on the lamp and checked his watch. “Four forty-five.”

“I should go start dinner.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for letting me invade your space.” 

“Just returning the favor.”

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Tara was cutting up carrots, celery and onions when Bo crutched into the kitchen. “Do you like grilled cheese?” she asked, without looking up.

“Who doesn’t?”

“I thought we’d have some with this soup.” Tara slid the vegetables into a stockpot. Then she filled a glass of water and passed it to him. 

He took a long drink. “How do you always know what I need?” 

She shrugged. 

“What happened with Rick?” 

Tara took a deep breath. “He asked if we could spend time together while he’s on leave.” She cut leftover chicken into small bits. “I haven’t seen him since a New Year’s Eve party last year. You know how everyone kisses at midnight.” She waved a hand. “That’s all it was. He’s been gone for three years. Before that, we were just friends.” She dropped the meat into the soup. “Then at the party, he gives me a necklace. I didn’t even know he was going to be there.”

“Seems kind of personal.”

“That’s what I said. And it was expensive.” She finally met his gaze. “I gave it back.”

“What had you so upset?” 

She placed the knife and cutting board near the sink. “Rita and I have a pact. We never leave each other alone with a guy unless we know it’s okay.” 

“Rita wasn’t exactly stone cold sober,” Bo said.

“I know. That’s why I did a quick walk-thru before she left. I didn’t check upstairs, but ...” She shrugged. “Rick hid somewhere until everyone left.” Tara added spices to the pot and stirred. “He was drunk. I tried to get him to leave, but he closed the door and stood in front of it. He kept grabbing at me.” Tara stilled, as if that might slow her pounding heart. “If you hadn’t come out when you did ...” She gazed at him. “I’ve always trusted him. I guess he’s changed.”

“So,” Bo stretched out the word. “If you’re not into Rick, is there someone else?”

Needing a moment to think, Tara set the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. The flame ignited and she took a few seconds to adjust it before facing him. “There is,” she finally said.

Bo eyed her. No jokes. No devastating smile.

“He’s been sleeping in my bed.” 

His Adam’s apple bobbed once. Slowly. “Don’t make me come over there.” 

Tara removed her apron and went to him. Bo rotated to face her, placed his hands on her hips. Though she wanted to kiss him, her arms were frozen at her sides as though she were made of wood. His touch felt so good, so warm. “I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered

“What do you mean?” Bo’s thumbs caressed softly.

Her heart was equal parts trepidation and desire. “I want to kiss you.” 

“Is that a problem?” Then he flashed that smile.

She tried to think. “It is.” She swallowed, moistened her lips.

“Please don’t do that.” Bo’s voice was husky. His grip tightened a little. 

Tara felt like a cannon about to go off. If Bo lit the fuse—if she went with whatever this was—she was terrified her heart would be blown to bits. 

After a moment, Bo took his hands away and released a ragged breath. “You’re safe with me, Tara.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Bo searched her face.

“Start.” 

He gave her a speculative look. “What are you afraid of?”

“This. Us. Where it will go.”

“Where do you want it to go?”

She shuddered. “I only know where I don’t want it to go.”

“Tell me.”

With great effort, she filled her lungs as dark memories pooled at her feet. Soaked into her legs. 

“I want to hold you. I want to give back some of the comfort you’ve given me.” His eyes brimmed with sincerity. And passion. “I want to kiss you until you can’t think.”

Tara drank the rest of his water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I already can’t think. You heard me when I woke up next to you. I was a babbling fool.”

He grinned. Waited. No pushing. No groping.

In spite of their strong gravitational pull, he’d kept his word about not crossing lines. She plowed forward. “Can you keep it to kissing? Can you limit yourself?”

He lifted a brow, seemed to consider. “I already have.”

“And do you hate me for it?” 

“What do you think?” He picked up her hands. Brought them to his lips. 

“I’m not toying with you, Bo. This is a big deal for me.” She needed more water but his glass was empty.

“I know you’re not.” He spoke softly, caressing her knuckles. “What’s your secret?” 

Tara closed her eyes.

A wave of fear stole her courage.