Page 33 of Boston (Coral Canyon: Cowboys #12)

He rolled his eyes even as he chuckled. “You couldn’t stop yourself, could you? Love you, Momma.”

He hung up before she could defend herself, because no, she couldn’t stop herself. She had to warn him every time he did anything she was a little bit nervous about. And having a girlfriend?

Even if she said she was happy for him, that definitely made her nervous.

No, Boston didn’t know what he was doing with Cora, but she sure seemed to like him, and he hadn’t messed up too badly yet. They still had plenty to learn about one another and plenty of time to do it, as she wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

He didn’t see Cora when he got back to his apartment, and he hurried inside to shower and change, wondering if she’d stay outside in the heat wave or come in.

He didn’t really want her to do that, as he didn’t have a whole lot of room in his place to move between the bathroom and getting dressed, and surely Cora knew that.

But Boston wasn’t sure what she understood about the employee quarters here at Silver Sage, so he simply soaped up quickly so she wouldn’t have to wait outside for too long.

By the time he finished washing, drying, dressing, and brushing, twenty minutes had passed. He grabbed his wallet and his keys and headed outside. He found Cora sitting down the walkway on a bench in the shade, and she looked up when he pulled his door closed behind him.

“Hey, cowboy.” She rose to her feet, and she wore a long denim skirt with an itty-bitty tank top the color of vine-ripened tomatoes. On her feet appeared to be a pair of ruby slippers, like the kind worn in The Wizard of Oz .

He chuckled as he moved toward her. “You are the prettiest picture a man has ever seen,” he said. “Look at those shoes.”

She clicked her heels together, just once. “Do you like them?”

“I think they’re incredible,” he said. She tilted her foot to show him the four-inch heel, but Boston had already noticed the increase in her height.

Boston brought her flush against his body, not even caring about the heat anymore. “Are you wearing them to match your car?”

“You have me figured out already.” She giggled, and Boston joined his chuckle to it.

He slid one hand along the side of her neck to the back of her head.

He gazed at her for a moment, wondering at the feelings inside him.

He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend before, but that didn’t mean he was stupid.

It didn’t mean he would rush things, and it didn’t mean that he couldn’t understand how he felt.

“I sure do like you, Cora-Cat,” he murmured just before he touched his lips to hers.

Kissing Cora caused a chemical combustion every time he did it, and with his mother’s reminder of his lack of experience with women, he worried about his kissing ability with this goddess of a woman—at least until she kissed him back.

She didn’t seem to have a problem with the way he threaded his fingers through her hair, or took the kiss deeper, or held one palm against the small of her back.

He didn’t carry on for too long, and when he pulled away, he rested his cheek against hers. “Where do you want to go for dinner?” he asked, refusing to be embarrassed about his feelings for Cora. She surely had to know what she did to him.

“How do you feel about seafood?” she asked.

“In Wyoming?” He straightened and looked at her, hoping to find a hint of teasing on her face. He didn’t.

“I don’t know about that, kitten.”

She leaned into his chest. “Oh, ‘kitten.’ I like that.”

“Do you?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “And there’s a place in town called Crab Shack that has great reviews.”

Boston shook his head. “They’re all lies.”

“So it’s not good?” Her expression fell, and Boston wished he had better news for her.

“It’s not good, sweetheart,” he said. “Trust me on this.” He took her hand and headed for the steps that would take them back down to the parking lot.

“What do you want? A lobster tail? Because I don’t think you can get that in Coral Canyon.

” He glanced over to her when they reached the bottom of the steps. “Maybe in Jackson.”

“We don’t have time to go to Jackson,” she said. “At least not before I get my car. The dealership closes at eight.”

“We could pick up your car first,” Boston said. “And just park it somewhere.” In fact, he knew a house that sat about a half-mile off the southern highway that led to Jackson Hole, where they could leave Cora’s car. Oh, the questions his father would have then. They almost made Boston smile.

Cora shook her head. “Once I get the car, I’m going to want to drive it,” she said. “Not park it somewhere.”

“All right.” He opened her door for her. “Your best bet for seafood is probably going to be the steak house,” he said. “I think the Branding Iron has shrimp and lobster, you know, surf and turf.”

“I was just hoping for maybe some really good clam chowder,” she said.

Boston grimaced. “I do not like clams. It’s like chewing on erasers.”

“They’re an acquired taste,” Cora said, as she somehow got herself in those heels into his truck.

He joined her and they headed to town, because he didn’t have to know where they were going to dinner to get them on their way. “I don’t know if we can get you the clam chowder tonight,” Boston said. “But my grandma makes a mean pot of clam chowder.”

Cora looked over to him, interest sparkling in her eyes. “Does she?”

“Oh, and by the way, my momma knows about you,” he said. “The whole family probably does by now.”

Cora glanced to him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t tell any of the cousins not to say anything to my parents, and apparently my mom talked to Bryce, and he said that he really liked you; that you’re really nice.” He grinned over to her. “I’m sure she called me within five seconds, and I had to tell her.”

“Oh, you had to, huh?” Cora teased. “At least now you know how I feel.”

“It’s a totally different situation,” he said. “You’re not working for my mother.”

“I know, Boston,” she said quietly, and Boston dropped it when he heard her use his name like that.

“So what are you gonna name your car?” he asked.

Cora swung her attention to him. “Oh, honey.” She shook her head. “You don’t name the car before you drive it.”

Boston laughed, and just when he thought he might be able to stop, the humor in what she’d said came roaring back, and he howled again. She laughed with him, and when he did finally quiet, she said, “You have to see how she drives first.”

“What, like handles all the corners in the canyon?”

“Yeah, just like that,” she said.

“Or on these straight highways that go north and south.”

“Those too,” she said, a measure of dignity in her voice. “Sometimes it can take days or weeks to name a car. You have to find the exact right one.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “I’ve never named a car.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “This fine brown beast doesn’t have a name?” She reached out and patted the dashboard in front of her.

“What would you name him?” Boston asked.

“Hm,” she said. “I have ridden in him a few times, but I’m not sure. I haven’t been thinking about it.”

Boston grinned over to her. “Give me another clue for your secret spot.”

“Oh, you’re trying to sneak a clue early.”

“Yes, I am,” he said. “We have some time off next week, Cora, and it might be fun to go.”

“I never have time off,” Cora said, and Boston glanced over to her again. He couldn’t tell if she was upset about that or not, but he supposed she was right. She ran Silver Sage, and it soldiered on twenty-four-seven, whether its employees did or not.

“As it happens, I have another clue ready,” she said. “And it matches your truck.” She beamed at him, and Boston simply waited for her to give him the clue.

“It’s brown too.”

He riddled through the three that she’d given him.

No bug spray, no fishing pole, brown. It could literally be anything, and when Cora’s phone chimed and she dove into it with the words, “Oh, this is Jeremy,” Boston continued the drive to Coral Canyon in silence, trying to come up with where Cora’s favorite place could be.