Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(90)

We were sharing.

He cut into an egg.

I had never had breakfast in bed, so suffice it to say, I’d never had breakfast served to me in bed.

I slowly turned my head Boone’s way.

“Baby,” I called softly.

He shoved egg, Canadian bacon, muffin and sauce in his mouth and shifted his eyes to me.

They came to me in query.

The second they hit my face, they changed.

“I never wanted much with a guy. Just that he’d get who I was and like it. How has my life, that has been mostly coasting on the love of my mom, a few good times, and the ability to keep on trucking, led me to you?”

“I think Lottie had something to do with it,” he said.

“I’ve just decided she’s getting one a hell of a bachelorette party and that’s all going to be me.”

“Yeah,” he replied. Then he said, “Tuck in, Rynnie. It sucks if it gets cold.”

I usually needed to brush my teeth first thing in the morning.

I did not move from my spot.

I grabbed my utensils and tucked in.





Chapter Seventeen





Let’s Dance





Ryn


I was leaning into Boone’s kitchen countertop, clicking through stuff on my laptop, and doing this with frustration.

Boone was making us breakfast.

It had been almost a week since breakfast in bed.

Now it was Friday morning, and I was glad for it because Boone had the weekend off.

Outside of us managing to go a whole week without fighting, and me and Chaos being out of my house since the plumber was doing his thing (for the now, there would be more later when I actually had sinks and tubs and shit), nothing much had happened.

Except Brett had disappeared.

He wasn’t even taking my calls.

This part worried me/part relieved me.

Seemed a good idea to me that he took a long vacation, let things perhaps get resolved without him around mucking up the works and maybe inadvertently putting another unsuspecting female in the path of danger.

But Brett had hung around for a while, seemingly intent to clear his name, so even though I didn’t know him hardly at all, this seemed out of character.

So, okay, him disappearing mostly worried me and only a little bit made me feel relief.

With Brett not taking my calls, however, there was nothing I could do about it and thus life was moving on.

That day, Boone had a day of doing possibly nefarious things for Hawk’s clients.

I had a day where Hattie—seeing as she was a classically trained dancer, and the rest of us weren’t—was going to work with me, Pepper and Lottie on our new routines.

If I ever got back to work, that was.

And speaking of that…

“I need to get back onstage. Smithie’s pay packet wasn’t light, but I could use about a dozen lap dances. Or maybe a hundred of them,” I muttered, scanning pricing on the kitchen cabinets I wanted for the house, and scratching numbers down on my list. Numbers that seemed impossible to achieve.

“Think about me buying in,” Boone said.

I didn’t get up from my slouch onto my forearms on his counter when I turned my head his way.

“What?” I asked.

“I got some money put away. Was already looking to use it to invest in something. We’ll figure it out, what you invested, what I invest, and we’ll decide where we’re at when we unload the house. If I go all in with you on the next house you flip, or if I just take my percentage.”

Was he for real?

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Unless it pisses you off like Smithie giving you money you think you didn’t earn, but the man is probably the only strip club owner on the planet who gives PTO, and you haven’t run out of PTO yet, so you did. And yes, even if it does piss you off, but then we’ll talk about it.”

“Boone, that would be…it would be…”

I couldn’t even finish.

It would be so amazing if he did that.

Because I’d have the money to push forward instead of stagnate, or worse, cash in those savings bonds mom gave me for a rainy day, or even worse, take another loan out on the house.

But more, it would mean he believed in my dream.

In me.

“It would be a good investment,” Boone finished for me, turning the omelet he was making (today, cheese and mushroom omelet, turkey sausage patties, accompanied by a smoothie). “I’ve seen what you want to do with it, and in that neighborhood, it’s gonna sell fast and you’re gonna make a whack.”

It would be a good investment.

I’ve seen what you want to do with it…and you’re gonna make a whack.

“Boone,” I called.

He was sliding the omelet on a plate with the sausages.

Now, this might be gross and far too gushy for some, but at breakfast, we ate off the same plate.

We were both eating the same thing, and we did it close, so why dirty another plate?

That said, the smoothie he poured into two glasses, because even if he’d had his tongue down my throat and up my pussy, and vice versa (switching out my pussy for his cock, obviously) no one wanted to court someone else’s backwash.

He looked to me.