She shrugged. “I just wasn’t ready for sex when I was in high school. I wanted to be in love and I wasn’t in love with Bobby Joe.”
“I thought you said you’d never been in love before. If you’ve never been in love, does that mean...”
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking. Cripes, Boone, I’m twenty-five. After a while...well...a girl has certain needs and her lofty ideals fall by the wayside.”
“I suppose they do,” he said, his voice turning husky.
“I’m old-fashioned, really.”
“You?” Boone hooted. “In what way are you old-fashioned?”
“I believe in marriage, for one thing.”
“Me, too.”
“Even though you’ve been divorced? Even though your mom flaked out on your dad?”
“Even though. What else do you believe in?”
“Waiting until you get married before you have a baby. For me, I mean. I wouldn’t presume to tell other people how to make their choices.”
The car tires strummed along the asphalt.
“You’re not quite what I thought you were,” Boone said after a while.
“The flakey hairstylist syndrome, huh?”
“What’s that?”
“When people hear you’re a hairstylist they assume certain things about you. That you’re arty and creative and impulsive and undependable and have scads of tattoos.”
“And you’re not those things?”
She notched up her chin. “I’m dependable.”
“Do you have any more tattoos? I mean, besides the dolphin.”
She felt the heat of his gaze roll over her. “Would you be disappointed or relieved if I said no?”
He shrugged, didn’t answer. Silence filled the car. Tara sneaked another glance over at Boone. He was studying her with a pensive expression on his face, as if she were as mysterious to him as a platypus.
“How come you don’t date?” she asked.
“With this?” He waved a hand at his knee.
“You’re using that as an excuse.”
“That’s because it is an excuse. Can’t perform bedroom gymnastics in a metal leg brace.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No, I haven’t tried.”
“Then how do you know what you can’t do?”
“Because—”
“I get it. Performance anxiety. You’re afraid of rejection.”
“I’m not afraid of rejection.” He snorted.
“You know, if you had a girlfriend, you might not be so jealous of your sister Jackie’s happiness.”
“I’m not jealous of Jackie’s happiness!” he growled.
“Um, yeah, okay.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re traveling three thousand miles with a former cheerleader who makes you uncomfortable in a Honda Accord pulling a U-Haul trailer just to stop Jackie from marrying the man she’s madly in love with.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
That gave Tara pause. She was glad she had a reason to keep her eyes straight ahead, but she could feel the heat of his stare. “You don’t have to be polite. If you don’t dislike me as you claim, how come you never came to my parties?”
“I’m not a party guy.”
“How come you shut your curtains when you see me coming across the street to your house?”
“I’m not good company.”
“How come you won’t ask me to drive you to the doctor or the grocery store? And don’t say pride, because I know you’ve let some of the other neighbors help you.”
“Because I have nothing to offer you,” he said so faintly she wasn’t sure she heard him.
She moistened her lips. The tension in the car stretched tight. His breathing was rough. Her breathing was none too smooth either. “I didn’t want anything from you other than to be a good neighbor. It’s not like I wanted to jump your bones or anything.”
“Yeah?” he said. “Well, maybe I wanted you to.”
* * *
W HY THE HELL had he told Tara that?
Her sharp inhalation filled the car. “You...you want to jump my bones?”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely, but yeah, I’ve had a fantasy or two about you.” Shut up! Just shut your damn mouth right now. Don’t say another freaking word.
“ Real-
“I thought you said you’d never been in love before. If you’ve never been in love, does that mean...”
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking. Cripes, Boone, I’m twenty-five. After a while...well...a girl has certain needs and her lofty ideals fall by the wayside.”
“I suppose they do,” he said, his voice turning husky.
“I’m old-fashioned, really.”
“You?” Boone hooted. “In what way are you old-fashioned?”
“I believe in marriage, for one thing.”
“Me, too.”
“Even though you’ve been divorced? Even though your mom flaked out on your dad?”
“Even though. What else do you believe in?”
“Waiting until you get married before you have a baby. For me, I mean. I wouldn’t presume to tell other people how to make their choices.”
The car tires strummed along the asphalt.
“You’re not quite what I thought you were,” Boone said after a while.
“The flakey hairstylist syndrome, huh?”
“What’s that?”
“When people hear you’re a hairstylist they assume certain things about you. That you’re arty and creative and impulsive and undependable and have scads of tattoos.”
“And you’re not those things?”
She notched up her chin. “I’m dependable.”
“Do you have any more tattoos? I mean, besides the dolphin.”
She felt the heat of his gaze roll over her. “Would you be disappointed or relieved if I said no?”
He shrugged, didn’t answer. Silence filled the car. Tara sneaked another glance over at Boone. He was studying her with a pensive expression on his face, as if she were as mysterious to him as a platypus.
“How come you don’t date?” she asked.
“With this?” He waved a hand at his knee.
“You’re using that as an excuse.”
“That’s because it is an excuse. Can’t perform bedroom gymnastics in a metal leg brace.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No, I haven’t tried.”
“Then how do you know what you can’t do?”
“Because—”
“I get it. Performance anxiety. You’re afraid of rejection.”
“I’m not afraid of rejection.” He snorted.
“You know, if you had a girlfriend, you might not be so jealous of your sister Jackie’s happiness.”
“I’m not jealous of Jackie’s happiness!” he growled.
“Um, yeah, okay.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re traveling three thousand miles with a former cheerleader who makes you uncomfortable in a Honda Accord pulling a U-Haul trailer just to stop Jackie from marrying the man she’s madly in love with.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
That gave Tara pause. She was glad she had a reason to keep her eyes straight ahead, but she could feel the heat of his stare. “You don’t have to be polite. If you don’t dislike me as you claim, how come you never came to my parties?”
“I’m not a party guy.”
“How come you shut your curtains when you see me coming across the street to your house?”
“I’m not good company.”
“How come you won’t ask me to drive you to the doctor or the grocery store? And don’t say pride, because I know you’ve let some of the other neighbors help you.”
“Because I have nothing to offer you,” he said so faintly she wasn’t sure she heard him.
She moistened her lips. The tension in the car stretched tight. His breathing was rough. Her breathing was none too smooth either. “I didn’t want anything from you other than to be a good neighbor. It’s not like I wanted to jump your bones or anything.”
“Yeah?” he said. “Well, maybe I wanted you to.”
* * *
W HY THE HELL had he told Tara that?
Her sharp inhalation filled the car. “You...you want to jump my bones?”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely, but yeah, I’ve had a fantasy or two about you.” Shut up! Just shut your damn mouth right now. Don’t say another freaking word.
“ Real-
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