Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)(85)

I raised an eyebrow. “Barnacle Bill?”

Lu laughed. “Now Sierra has me calling him that. She is gonna totally f*ck up and call him that to his face one of these days.”

“Where’d the name come from?”

“Sierra came up with it when she was drunk after Ellen bragged about Bill’s big…fishing boat business.”

“Sierra was funny as hell today after I picked her up. Is she always that way when she’s been drinking?”

“Just when she’s drunk. Not after like two drinks. There’s a difference. She doesn’t do it very often, but yeah. She’s funny when she’s around the right people. So you’ve never seen her slam-a-lammered before?”

I swigged my water. “Once, at a party in high school, and it was far from a funny situation.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I forget that you’ve known her that long.”

A timer dinged. Lu used oven mitts to pull a pan from the oven.

A curl of sweet scented steam teased me as she set the pan on a wire rack. “That smells great. It’s not surprising you’ve been roommates for so long since you both like to bake.”

Lu rolled her eyes. “I bake because I like it. Sierra bakes when she has something on her mind or if she’s upset.”

I went still. But my brain sifted back through the times I’d sampled her baked goods.

I’d noticed she had cookies on her desk the day I’d shown up at her office for my Phoenix tour. A result of seeing me the day before?

She’d brought the elaborate brownie coma dessert to McJock Central. Because she found out I’d lied about how long I planned to be in Phoenix?

The morning after our first night together she’d whipped up a loaf of banana bread. In response to everything I’d told her about how f*cked up I was?

The night we were at the bar and I’d dealt with Oakley, she’d made cupcakes after we returned home. Due to her crappy day and work and dealing with her mother?

Christ. Why hadn’t I seen the pattern?

I wondered what she’d whip up after her mother’s luncheon from hell.

“She talked about you sometimes,” Lu said, interrupting my thoughts.

My gut tightened. “She did?”

“The first time she mentioned you was after the Ellen MILF-ing incident. She said she was glad Ellen had picked a douche she didn’t really care about and not you because she would’ve committed murder.” Lu smirked. “But to be fair, she didn’t clarify whether she meant she’d kill her mother…or kill you.”

I forced a laugh. “I deserve to be sliced and diced if I ever hurt Sierra like that. I’d hand her the f*cking knife.”

“So what happened in your past that had her swearing she’d never get involved with you again? Then two weeks later you’re living with her? And now Mr. Overprotective Daniels calls you to rescue her instead of me?”

“No offense, Lu, but if Sierra hasn’t told you? I won’t either.”

“Jerk. So infidelity wasn’t an issue between you two. A f*ck-and-run encounter wasn’t it either.”

“I’ll point out while you’re pointing that knife at me that infidelity will never be an issue between Sierra and me.” I paused. “I spent years hoping for another chance with her. The last thing I’d ever do is f*ck her over.”

“That’s a relief. Because Raj would miss you if I was forced to kill you.” She thwacked a clove of garlic on the cutting board and I jumped.

Jesus.

“Keep in mind…that as a landscaper I know where to bury the bodies and how deep.”

“Good talk.” I patted the counter and said, “I’ll just…go run in traffic where it’s safer.”

Her maniacal laughter followed me out of the kitchen.

Seeing Sierra curled up on the couch…I just wanted to pull the covers over us and hide away in our cocoon for a while. I scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.

I stripped to my underwear, closed the blinds, locked the door and slipped between the cool sheets. Sierra still wore her dress. I’d left it on, not wanting to wake her up even when I craved feeling her bare skin against mine. Wednesday night when I’d been in a piss poor mood, prowling around the house, I’d hated the hollow feeling of falling asleep alone on the couch.

I brushed my lips across the back of her head and breathed in the sweet perfume of her skin, a scent that calmed and aroused me.

She shifted, rolling over and finding “her” spot on my chest. I automatically adjusted until we were positioned how we fell asleep every night.

Closing my eyes, I kissed the top of her head.

She said, “Mmm. My hero. I love you. Being in love with you is better than just being all f*cking in.”

I didn’t move.

Drunk talk, my subconscious scoffed, she won’t remember when she wakes up.

But I would. Holy shit would I ever. I doubted I’d think about anything else all day.

White spots danced behind my eyelids. I forced myself to breathe.

I love you. Being in love with you is better than just being all f*cking in.

Those words repeated on a loop in my head at least a dozen times.

What did I say to her when she woke up?