Chapter Sixteen

Dolly

"I'm going to work on breaking down boxes in the back, Marvin. Just holler if you need me," I called out as I made my way toward the backroom.

Marvin waved from the register, his easygoing smile in place. "I've got it covered out here. Take your time."

I smiled back and was grateful for his steady presence. I headed to the rear of the store, where the box compactor sat tucked away near the overhead door used for deliveries. Normally, this was a chore I saved for Nash on Saturdays, but since he was still enjoying his morning at his friend's house, the task fell on me today.

It was noon already, and with the store closing at five, I figured if I got this out of the way, the rest of the day would go by smoothly and easily. I could focus on stocking shelves, tidying things up, and doing all the little tasks that needed attention around the store.

The rhythmic sound of boxes being flattened filled the room as I worked on breaking them down, tossing each one into the compactor with more force than necessary. It was one of those tedious tasks I didn't look forward to, but I had to admit there was something satisfying about getting it done. I grabbed another box, ripped it open, and crunched it into the compactor.

That's when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Marvin? Do you need help out front?" I called out over my shoulder as I tossed another box into the machine.

A deep voice responded, one I hadn't expected to hear. "I think there are a few things I could use your help with."

I spun around, and my heart jumped into my throat. "Boone!" I gasped, clutching a hand to my chest. He stood there, leaning against the doorway like he owned the place, with that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged with his casual demeanor, somehow setting my nerves on edge. "Thought I'd see what you were up to." His gaze swept over the backroom, taking it all in, and he gave a slight nod of recognition. "This place sure hasn't changed since high school." His eyes shifted to the small space between the compactor and the overhead door, the very spot where we used to steal moments together. "That still a good place to make out?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I hissed, "Boone West, don't you dare."

He shrugged again, completely unfazed by my reaction, and before I knew it, he was walking toward me, closing the distance between us. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. The familiar warmth of his body made my heart race.

"Like you don't think about how many times we made out back here," he whispered in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

Of course, I thought about it. How could I not? There were so many memories in this store—of us, of those stolen moments, of being young and reckless and completely in love. They'd haunted me all the years he was gone, leaving me to wonder if I'd ever feel like that again.

He must've seen the hesitation in my eyes because he grinned and tugged me gently toward the small space by the overhead door. "Let's take a trip down memory lane."

I didn't resist as he backed me up against the wall, caging me in with his arms on either side of me. His closeness was intoxicating, and the familiar scent of him—faint traces of leather and something else, something unmistakably Boone—wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

"Did you just come back here to have your way with me?" I asked, my voice catching in my throat.

He nodded, his eyes locking onto mine. "Yes. I tried to keep myself busy, but I missed you." His voice was low and rough, the sound of it sending a flutter of heat through me.

I swallowed hard, reminding myself of the conversation we'd had about taking things slow. "I thought we were going to take this slow," I murmured, even though the words felt weak as they left my lips.

He shrugged and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I mean, we haven't done anything for fifteen years, so I really do think that is slow." His lips quirked up into that lopsided grin I knew all too well. "I'm going to kiss you, Dolly."

My eyes met his, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to breathe. "If you want to," I whispered, though my body was already leaning toward him, my heart already racing in anticipation.

"Oh, honey," he whispered, his voice dropping even lower. "I more than want to."

Before I could say anything else, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was slow at first, a gentle meeting of lips that spoke of all the time that had passed, all the words we hadn't said, all the things we still needed to figure out. But then it deepened, his hands moving to cradle the back of my head as he pressed closer. His body was warm and solid against mine, and the way he kissed me—it was like coming home.

I let out a soft sigh as I leaned into him, and my hands gripped the fabric of his shirt as if to ground myself. His mouth moved against mine with a familiar rhythm that stirred up every forgotten feeling I had buried deep inside. The years melted away with every press of his lips, and all I could think about was how right this felt—how being in Boone's arms was the place I had always belonged.

His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the tension between us and the magnetic pull that had always existed. It was stronger now, more urgent, like the years apart had only intensified the connection we shared.

Boone pulled back slightly, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against mine. His breath came in soft, ragged puffs, and I could feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine.

"I missed you," he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with emotion.

"I missed you too," I whispered back, my voice shaky.

Without another word, he kissed me again, this time with more urgency, more need. His hands roamed down to my waist, gripping me tight as if he was afraid I might slip away again. I didn't push him away. I didn't want to. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him, to remember every part of what we used to be together.

Our kisses grew hotter and more intense, and my back pressed harder against the wall as Boone's body leaned into mine. The small space felt even smaller now, filled with the heat of our bodies, the desperate way we clung to each other like we were making up for all the time we'd lost.

I could feel his desire in every kiss, every touch, and it sent a thrill through me that I hadn't felt in years. Boone was all-consuming, and the way he kissed me made me forget everything else—the store, the compactor, the years of wondering what could have been. Nash. It all faded away until there was only him.

When he finally pulled back, both of us breathless, he looked down at me, his eyes dark with the same want I felt coursing through my veins.

"Slow, huh?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

I laughed softly, shaking my head as I tried to catch my breath. "I guess slow's relative."

Boone grinned, brushing his thumb against my bottom lip. "I like this kind of slow. We can go this slow for however long you like. We'll figure it out, Dolly. I'm not going anywhere this time."

And as I stood there, my heart racing, my lips still tingling from his kiss, I believed him.