Chapter 9

So now Ryan knew the type of underwear Boon preferred. He was a boxer briefs guy himself, and he’d have thought someone with a package as large as Boon’s would have been more comfortable with the support they provided.

Good heavens, what am I thinking about?

Ryan had left the bedroom before his body could react naturally to the sight of those boxers and what they might contain. Out here in the garden, he was safe from discovery if it happened again.

He insisted Boon stop to eat lunch. He’d ordered sandwiches from the deli, and Boon ate with the hearty appetite of a man his size. That his manners were good surprised Ryan—his surprise probably a result of Boon’s tattoos and Ryan’s biased attitude. Cinnabons were the dessert. This time Boon didn’t turn them down.