Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1), Page 2

  So here I was, trying to implement a plan of attack on the fly.

  The irony of this situation? I’d had meetings scheduled in Phoenix before Sierra and I had crossed paths.

  That had to be a sign.

  Had to.

  Maybe that was wishful thinking on my part. But no one has ever accused me of being an optimist—I’d lived with the “Brooding Boone” moniker since my third birthday.

  Could Sierra see me beyond who I used to be? The borderline bad boy who’d left her after admitting I’d hidden my feelings for her from the start?

  But you aren’t that kid anymore.

  So I’d changed. Big deal. It’d be a sad situation if I hadn’t. I could thank the United States Army for the significant improvements in my life and the opportunities that joining the military had afforded me.

  Way to sound like a recruitment poster, douche.

  Fuck.

  Where was my confidence? I was educated. I’d expanded my language skills. I’d become a team leader. I’d learned the art of compromise and negotiation. I’d effectively erased most of that punk I used to be.

  But what if that’s the guy she wants?

  Fuck that. I could offer her things now that I couldn’t before. I had a career. A pension. A nice car. A bright future.

  She always had those things that you worked so hard to get. What can you give her that no one else can? What makes you special?

  My mind blanked.

  I heard a crack and realized I’d been grinding my teeth so hard my jaw had popped.

  All of this speculation meant squat.

  My male pride assured me I’d come this far and she wouldn’t refuse to see me. It kept reminding me I’d had a connection with Sierra I hadn’t experienced with anyone else. Unfortunately, my pride also had a sadistic streak. It suggested I’d never gotten over Sierra because she’d never really been mine in the first place.

  My pride was a total dickhead most of the time.

  The GPS reminded me to turn right at the next intersection and then announced my destination had been reached.

  After I parked in the visitor’s lot, I bent down and peered through the bottom of the windshield so I could see the Daniels Development Group office building from the ground up.

  I’d always known Sierra came from money. Yet I also knew that Gavin Daniels had been responsible for that financial success after expanding the business he’d inherited from his father. Did Sierra feel pressured to make an equal—or an even bigger—mark with her role in the family business? She had the brains to do it, but did she have the drive?

  Thinking back, I didn’t remember that she’d been interested in carrying on the family legacy. Then again, who knows what they want out of life at age sixteen? Just because I’d known her then, didn’t mean I knew anything about her goals, aspirations and responsibilities now. And I couldn’t wait to find them out firsthand.

  As I crossed the parking lot, I figured it was a good time to remind myself what I did know.

  Sierra worked in Daniels Property Management on the tenth floor.

  She wasn’t in a relationship.

  My brain hit pause. What else?

  When nothing came to mind, I realized that was all I knew about her.

  Sort of pathetic, really.

  But Sierra had roughly the same basic knowledge about me, so we’d be on equal ground.

  The thought of getting this second chance with her quickened my stride as I entered the lobby.

  As I rode the elevator, various scenarios ran through my mind of how this would play out.

  In the movie version of our reunion, we’d be running toward each other in slow motion, through the rain. We’d kiss like mad, pausing only to tearfully confess our eternal love for each other as the scene fades to black.

  In my version, after I promised to spend the rest of my life making up for the past seven years we were apart, we’d end up on the rain-soaked ground, so hot for each other we fucked right there in the mud. Or I fucked her up against a tree. Or I bent her over a park bench. Oh hell yeah. That one was really good. Especially when I imagined my hand twisted in that gorgeous dark hair of hers, pulling just hard enough to make her gasp as I whispered dirty, dirty promises in her ear.

  Jesus man, get a fucking grip. You really want to stroll in sporting wood? And is sex all you really want from her?

  Well, no. But I sure as hell wouldn’t pretend I wanted to be her friend either.

  The elevator stopped on the tenth floor and the doors slid open.

  For just a moment, I froze. Was I truly ready for this?

  Don’t be a pussy. You’re a fucking soldier. You’ve dodged sniper fire and IEDs. This? This is cake.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my khakis before I strode to the receptionist’s desk. I bestowed my most charming smile on her. “I’m here to see Sierra McKay.”

  Tuesday was my busiest day of the week.

  I’d been scrambling to catch up after my absence. I’d gone to Sundance to see Marin, my BFF from high school, and meet her new baby boy. And have a heart to heart with my father about my place in the company. But because I’d gotten sick I hadn’t seen Marin or her sweet baby. And I hadn’t had that talk with my dad, either.

  Mostly because I’d chickened out. Again.

  In addition to my tasks at Daniels Property Management today, I had a presentation to prep for next week for PCE—Phoenix Collegiate Entrepreneurs—a woman’s business group we organized at ASU when we realized there weren’t any support groups for our demographic: women starting home-based businesses or women in jobs where their colleagues were predominantly male. Ten business admin students, all female, all who’d had some level of success in starting a business, had banded together and pooled our knowledge so we could help each other. Within six months our group had fifty members and a dozen women in the community who’d volunteered as mentors.

  Being a founding member of the group was one of the things I was most proud of. I still spent a considerable amount of time volunteering for PCE because creating a better business environment for women remained my passion.

  I just wished I could do that here; reignite the passion I’d brought to this job. I couldn’t blame my restlessness on a lousy salary. Or limited opportunities for advancement. Although I was Gavin Daniels’ only heir, I’d insisted on an entry-level position at DPM. I could’ve gone to work for several other companies after graduating from college—I’d been heavily recruited due to my impressive resume, my work founding PCE, my GPA and the connection to my father. But since I’d indicated an interest in taking over both Daniels Development Group and Daniels Property Management when Dad retired, I figured I had at least a dozen years to learn how to run everything. Since I’d spent more time at DDG over the years, I wanted to understand DPM from the ground up.

  That didn’t mean I was a third-generation slacker with entitlement issues and zero work ethic. During college I’d worked as my father’s virtual intern. No pay but what I’d learned had been invaluable.

  There’d been resentment after I’d officially been hired at DPM. Management passed off the lowest-priority clients to me. I had bigger goals for myself than being a glorified landlord. So I convinced those clients to let me implement my ideas for total automation. Everything from direct deposit for rent collection to vetting potential service providers. Since DPM had a decent profit margin with the management fees we charged, when I cut new deals with the vendors on behalf of my clients, I passed the savings on to them.

  When other DPM clients got wind of the changes…they demanded the same type of deals. Which was exactly what I’d banked on. So my first year as a glorified landlord I’d completely revamped the entire DPM payment system.

  Color the CEO impressed. But he’d also been agitated that none of his long-time managers had attempted to modernize an outdated business model. So he’d rewarded me for my innovative thinking by granting me a promotion—a big promotion—from entry level to upper management.

  That’s when the nastiness really kicked in; the implication that I hadn’t earned the promotion. My father was a brilliant businessman and the smartest guy in any room and thankfully I’d inherited some of his business acumen. But I’d risen up the ranks on my own merits. I’d put up the amount of hours I’d worked against anyone else’s.

  Another fun aspect of the job in addition to the assumed nepotism was the sexism and the ageism. Men I’d known for years were patronizing and condescending when they dealt with me. How could I possibly know anything about real business? The ink on my diploma was fresh. I had tits, not balls. What really rankled were the smug remarks about having Daddy fight my battles. No wonder my enthusiasm had cooled.

  Two raps sounded on my office door, then Nikki poked her head in. “Your eleven thirty is here.”

  I frowned at my assistant. “Marty is early?”

  “It’s not Marty. I assumed you forgot to enter in this appointment.” She sent another quick glance over her shoulder. “You want me to send him packing?”

  “No. Show him in.” I printed out my questions for Marty. I planned to pick his brain about what to look for when hiring a headhunting firm. PCE had reached the stage where it needed a full-time paid administrator.

  From the doorway I heard, “A corner office already?”

  That voice. For years it’d haunted me, a deep rasp that couldn’t possibly be as sexy and compelling as I’d remembered.

  I went utterly still behind my computer screen.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  A snarky inner voice said: He told you he’d track you down.

  An equally bitchy voice retorted: So? He told me many things and never followed through with any of them.

  “I’m impressed, McKay.”

  And then Boone West sauntered through my door as if he had every right to be here.

  I might’ve ordered him out, if I hadn’t been so busy drinking him in. I’d been too feverish in Sundance to mentally catalog the similarities and differences in Old Boone and this Second Edition Boone.

  Old Boone had shuffled along, shoulders slumped, chin tucked down, hair obscuring his face.

  Second Edition Boone had that military swagger: chin up, direct eye contact, super-sized body on full alert.

  He’d filled out, becoming taller and broader. The extra height and weight looked good on him. Before, he’d worn his dark hair a little too long; it’d constantly flopped in his face. Now he sported a military cut. The shorter style accentuated the perfection of his face: the high cheekbones, the wide jaw, the broad forehead, those soulful brown eyes that sucked me in.

  Boone West was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  Snap out of it. You aren’t a dreamy-eyed girl. You are a busy, professional woman and he does not have an appointment or the right to waste your time.

  I forced my gaze to Nikki, who was openly gawking at Boone’s ass.

  She offered me a sorry-not-sorry smirk. “Buzz me if you need anything.”

  “You can leave the door open, Nikki. He’s leaving. Immediately.”

  “No, Hi, Boone, how are you today? No, I’m sorry I ditched your calls when I was in Wyoming because I pulled a muscle in my phone-dialing finger? Just, He’s leaving. Immediately?”

  My mouth dropped open. “You remember that conversation?”

  “I remember everything that happened between us, Sierra. Everything.”

  “Then you’ll remember why I have nothing to say to you and why I’m telling you to get out of my office.”

  Boone shook his head at me. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

  Pushy bastard. “How about I give you what you deserve instead?”

  “Which is what?”

  “A swift kick in the balls.”

  He grinned. “Luckily I wore a cup. Just in case.”

  “Bully for you. Go away, Boone.”

  “Nope. We have unfinished business.”

  “Wrong. We were finished the moment you got on your bike and left me and the state of Wyoming behind. Since seven years have gone by, we’re past the legally recognized statute of limitations for immoral acts and criminal behavior—not that being a selfish, lying asshat is against the law. So if it’ll speed things up and send you on your way, I’ll accept your apology even when it’s years late.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not here to apologize.”

  “Of course you’re not.” I pointed to the door. “Please let it hit you in the ass on your way out.” I returned my focus to my monitor, dismissing him completely.

  Five seconds later he slapped his big hands on my desk.

  I jumped.

  Boone peered over the edge of my computer screen. “Your reflexes are good. So how are you feeling? Any lingering issues from the strep virus?”

  “You came all the way to Phoenix for a house call?”

  “Not hardly.”

  “Then why are you here? I doubt the army just lets you flit around from place to place whenever the mood strikes you.” Dammit. You were supposed to act uninterested.

  He smirked because he knew he’d hooked me. “I’m glad you asked. I’m here on leave for two weeks. I intended to tell you in Wyoming that I was already scheduled to be in Phoenix directly after my stint in Sundance.”

  Do not react. “And this affects me…how?”

  Boone’s intense gaze encompassed my entire face. “Us being in the same place, at the same time isn’t a coincidence, Sierra.”

  “Yes it is.”

  “No it isn’t. It’s fate.”

  My stomach cartwheeled.

  “You knew it. That’s why you ran from me in Wyoming.”

  “I didn’t run. I drove.”

  He shrugged. “And yet, no matter how we got here, we are both here.”

  Do not get sucked into this conversation.

  Awkward silence distorted the air.

  Boone stepped back and sat in the chair across from my desk.

  “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “I know. I’m ignoring it because you don’t really want me to leave.”

  In my head I said, Omigod, cocky much? Get out or I’m calling security. But I would not give him the satisfaction of an emotional outburst. Instead, I said, “You are mistaken if you think I have nothing better to do than entertain you. I have another appointment—”

  “I’m sure you do. You’re the big executive now. Kyler was telling me about it last night.”

  That little traitor. And what did Kyler know about my executive status anyhow? He usually introduced me as “my cousin who’s in real estate,” like my job was showing residential properties.

  “Surprised?” Boone prompted.

  “That you’ve already been in touch with my cousin?”

  “I’m staying with him and the guys a few nights.”

  The “guys” meaning my other cousins, Anton and Hayden.

  He raised an eyebrow. “That sounded a little possessive. Ky’s my cousin too, McKay.”

  “Like you have to remind me, West.”

  Boone sank back in the chair as if settling in for a good, long chat. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Ky, Hayden and Anton. It’s weird that they’re these big, grown guys and not the skinny runts I remembered. Anyway, we were talking last night and I mentioned I was coming here today. Hayden said something like ‘your cousin is my cousin but that don’t make us cousins’ which sounded wrong coming from him because he always talked like he was reading from a textbook, even when he was annoying the hell out of us on the bus. Which reminded me about the first time we met on the bus. I saw you talking to Ky and thought, it figures the gorgeous new girl in town is a relative. I was so relieved to find out that we weren’t related at all. Then Ky made a crack about kissing cousins—”

  “Whatever you’re trying to do, Boone…stop.”

  “What do you think I���m trying to do? Besides reminding you that it wasn’t all bad between us?”

  His agitation that I’d interrupted him allowed me to remain cool. “I think you’re beating a dead horse.”

  Boone quirked an eyebrow at me. “That’s a little folksy coming from you.”

  “You want it in plain terms? Fine. I have no desire to reminisce with you.” I paused. “Ever.”

  “Bull. I know you, Sierra.”

  “No, you don’t. Not anymore.”

  And that played perfectly into his hands. He bestowed that dazzling smile on me. “Then give me a chance to get to know you. Starting over would be best for us anyway.”

  I caught sight of Marty in the open doorway. Talk about perfect timing. “Not today. My scheduled appointment is here.”

  Boone banked his irritation at my brush-off and rose to his feet. After sparing Marty a quick glance, he returned that laser focus to me as I stepped around the desk.

  Today I’d worn my favorite power suit: a pencil skirt the color of black cherries I’d paired with a cream-colored sleeveless shirt with a swoopy drape of fabric that allowed a hint of cleavage. My black heels were 1950s-style peep-toe pumps with white stitching and dotted with tiny cherries the same color as my skirt. I rocked this outfit and always felt a boost of confidence wearing it.

  When our eyes met again, Boone didn’t hide the fact I’d wowed him.

  Eat your heart out, fucker. “See you around, West.”

  His eyes narrowed. He moved in and brushed his right cheek across mine until his lips met my ear. “You aren’t shaking me off that easy.”

  “I can try.”

  Boone’s soft laughter burrowed into my ear and sent vibrations throughout my entire body. “Fair warning. I’m more stubborn than you. I’m that burr you can’t shake off until I get completely under your skin. I’ve got nothing but time to convince you we need to talk so we can fix this between us.” He retreated and offered Marty a “Hey” and a chin lift before he strolled away.

  I found myself watching that finely muscled ass…and wondering.

  When I looked up at Marty, he lifted a brow at me. “I could’ve come back if I was interrupting something.”

  -->