He nodded.

“You sure? Because I can’t carry you.” She smirked. “Although, I could probably knock you over and drag you.”

“I can walk.”

He followed her into the living room. She dragged a chair directly in front of the fireplace and ordered, “Sit.”

Boone sat.

She tucked the comforter around his front side. He watched her every move without speaking, his eyes locked on her face, and it made her nervous.

“How about if I make you hot tea.” She practically ran to the kitchen. Her face was on fire, forcing her to rest her forehead on the cold marble to cool down. Okay. She’d acted like it was no big deal…while she’d freakin’ stripped Boone West.

The water took forever to heat. She grabbed a teabag from Rielle’s cupboard and squirted a bunch of honey into the hot water in case the tea tasted like crap.

Back in the living room, she noticed Sadie had parked herself in front of the fire, her happy little doggie mug resting on Boone’s feet. His eyes were closed.

She nudged his shoulder. “Boone. You’re not supposed to sleep if you’ve been chilled.”

He mumbled, “Tired.”

“Tough. Wake up.”

No response.

She shoved him harder. “Boone. Wake up right now or I’ll call your ambulance buddies here to haul your cold ass to the hospital and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

“You’ve got a mean streak, McKay.”

Good. He knew who she was. Sierra was peering directly into his face when those long lashes lifted. He gazed into her eyes so deeply her belly fluttered. Man. He had the prettiest eyes, even when they seemed slightly vacant.

“You want a hot drink?”

“No. Just water.”

“Be right back.”

Upon returning she saw Boone had stirred, removing his hat and lowering the comforter to free his arms. He stroked Sadie’s fur.

“Here.” She handed him the water.

He gulped a couple mouthfuls and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His eyes were more alert. “How’d an Arizona girl recognize hypothermia symptoms and know treatment procedures?”

“My dad has been grilling me on this since the first week we moved here. He, ah, knows I’d probably walk out in the snow in flip-flops, without a coat, so he’s been horrifying me with worst-case scenarios. I’d tell him that I remembered everything and helped you, but he’d gloat too much.”

“Smart man, teaching you that stuff. Most people who move out here don’t have a clue.” He took another drink of water. “Is your dad around?”

“No, he went to an auction with my uncles and Rielle is in Laramie.”

“I wondered if you’d be here. Didn’t see any cars when I walked up.”

“Walked up? Did you have car trouble or something?”

“I was riding my motorcycle home and the gas gauge must’ve broken or something because it said I had half a tank when I left town.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You were riding your motorcycle in this weather? Why?”

He looked directly at her. “Because I don’t have a car.”

What? Didn’t everyone have a car?

“The bike quit about a mile from here and I pushed it to your barn because I remembered seeing cans of gas.”

“Wait. You pushed your motorcycle a mile, in the dark, in subzero temperatures?”

“Yeah. While I filled the tank outside the barn, exhaustion set in and I sort of…”

“Passed out?”

“Phased out,” he corrected. “I don’t know how long.” Boone squinted at the clock. “It’s seven-thirty? I left Sundance at four.”

Sierra got right in his face. “You are lucky you aren’t dead, Boone West.”

“Probably. I was confused when I woke up but I remembered I had to tell you I’d borrowed some fuel. Didn’t want anyone to think I stole it.” He smiled and lightly bumped his forehead to hers. “I wouldn’t want to add to the bad blood between the Wests and McKays.”

“Thoughtful. Except can you imagine how much worse it’d be if you’d been found dead on McKay land?”

“I thought your name was Daniels,” he teased.

She whapped him on the shoulder. “Smartass.”

“Could I hang my coveralls over the chair so they dry out before I head home?”

Of course tough guy Boone would ride his motorcycle home after a close call with hypothermia. But she wouldn’t have his stubbornness on her conscience. “Sure. But before you leave here, promise me you’ll call your dad or your uncles or someone, and tell them exactly which way you’re going, so if your bike breaks down again, they’ll know where to look for you.”

“Or we could skip all that shit and you could just give me a ride.”

“I promised my dad I wouldn’t go out of the house under any circumstances except for fire.” God. Boone probably thought she was such a baby.

Warm fingers lifted her chin. “Hey. It’s not a big deal.”

As soon as he removed his hand, she blurted out, “Are you hungry?”

“You’re always trying to feed me.” He patted his stomach. “Do I look like I need fattening up?”

No, you look perfect. But maybe you should lift your shirt anyway so I can see your six-pack abs just to make sure.

“If you’re not hungry you can come into the kitchen and watch me eat because I’m starved.”

“Twist my arm. I’ll put another log on the fire.” He smiled. “You can cook me up some bacon and some beans.”

“What?”

“You know…that’s a line from that Tompall Glaser song?”

“Never heard of him. Is he local?”

Boone shook his head. “He was with the Outlaws. Your musical education is sorely lacking, McKay.”

Sierra heated leftover angel hair pasta with basil cream sauce in the microwave. Boone watched as she diced a tomato and grated parmesan. She gestured to the cupboard with her knife. “You wanna grab plates?”

“Sure.”

She divided the pasta in half, and sprinkled cheese and tomatoes on each pile. “Dig in.”

Boone wound a good-sized bite around his fork and popped it in his mouth. “That is fantastic. Eating here is like dining at a fancy restaurant. You should be a chef.”

“I don’t know what I want to do after high school. How about you?”

“I’ve got a good idea.”

He didn’t elaborate.

Sierra wasn’t as hungry as she’d thought and Boone ended up polishing off her plate of pasta too.

“Thanks for an outstanding meal. I feel like I oughta leave a tip.”

“How about if you do the dishes?”

“Deal.” He cleared the plates. When he opened the door to the dishwasher, she said, “Nope. Not that dishwasher. This one.”

Boone frowned. “What’s the difference?”

“That one is Rielle’s; this one is ours. I know it’s weird, but we had to divide the kitchen space and set boundaries after we moved in.” She sighed. “It’s sort of pointless now that my dad and Rielle are sleeping together.”

“Really? How do you know? Did you catch them goin’ at it?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. They’re more discreet than that, except I catch them making out all the time. My dad has never had a girlfriend, which is weird when you think about it.” She’d wondered if he was gay. And she’d tried several times to let her dad know she’d be fine with it if he preferred men.

“Never?”

“If he was seeing someone in Arizona he never brought her home when I was there.” She rinsed the dishrag and hung it over the sink divider. “My dad’s actually been a lot happier since we moved here. I wonder how much of that has to do with her.” After Rory’s little come-to-Jesus talk, he’d started doing more things with her outside the house. That’d taken some of the sting out of her feeling of isolation, but not all. She felt Boone staring at her and she looked up. “Sorry.”

“Have you asked if he’s practicing safe sex?”

Sierra laughed. “That’d go over well.”

Boone wandered into the great room, inspecting Rielle’s funky furnishings. “So if your dad didn’t date, what about your mom? You said your parents divorced when you were five, right?”

He’d remembered that? “Uh-huh. My mom? She’s a flake.”

He whirled around and grinned. “Hey, so’s mine.”

“Really? Did your mom spontaneously bail to France with her twenty-eight-year-old boyfriend? And she’s lying about her age, swearing she’s just a few years older, when it’s a decade.”

“Have you met her boyfriend?”

Sierra shook her head. “Get this; she told him I’m her sister. If my dad knew that he’d lose his mind. Even when my dad annoys me, he’s always acted like he wants to be around me, not because he has to take care of me.” Not always the case with her mom. Her mom was fun and smiles when they were doing what she wanted, which was most of the time. So it made no sense why Sierra missed her so much, but she did. Especially after she’d called to confront her mom about the package of lingerie she’d sent as a gift. Her mom had cried and apologized and swore she’d make it up to her. And Sierra believed her—even when her dad made cracks about lowering her expectations.

“At least you had one good parent. Both mine sucked.” Boone sat across from her. “My dad was always gone. When I was a kid and now.”

“Have you always lived with him?”

“Nope. I lived with Mom until third grade.”

“Did she get married or something?”

“No. Everything changed when my dad found out…” He clenched his hands into fists and he looked at the floor. “Fuck. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”