She nudged him back. “She asked me when I was officially changing my last name to McKay so it accurately reflected my overbearing genes.”
“Is that a possibility? Your dad changing your last name to McKay?”
“He’s never mentioned it. But that’s how everyone introduces him—Gavin Daniels, Charlie and Vi McKay’s oldest boy.” Sierra shuffled the papers in front of her. “I wouldn’t have an issue if he did want the change. Some people—” she knocked her knee into his, “—already call me McKay, so it wouldn’t be such a big shift for me. But it would be a big deal for my dad. Anyway, I’m just frustrated with the lack of information.”
Boone covered her restless hand with his. “You’ve done your report. Why are you still combing through these old papers?”
His touch—even casual—caused a hot jolt of awareness. She stared at his rough-skinned knuckles and the smattering of dark hair across the back of his hand. She wanted to run her fingertips across the rugged texture and memorize every inch.
“Sierra?”
“What?”
“Why does this matter?”
“Maybe to show my dad that I am invested in my family. I know it probably sounds weird, but I’ve never had this type of connection. I don’t know anything about my mom’s side of my family, except that she cut off all contact with her dad after he left her mother for another woman. Then her mom died when she was in college. I’ve never had cousins, or aunts and uncles and now I’ve got so many I can’t keep them all straight.
“I’m also interested because Dinah went to all the trouble to keep records for future generations of McKays. These archives haven’t been touched in years and someone needs to care, to bring it to life, so it might as well be me.” She sighed. “My Grandpa Charlie said after his mom died his father boxed up all her things, shoved them in the attic and warned his sons if he ever caught them messing up there, he’d tan their hides.”
He whistled and sank back into the sofa, breaking their handhold. “Yeah, I wouldn’t take the chance and go poking around either.”
“But I want to know what the damn scandal was. It had to be big. It had to be documented some place in these papers.”
“I’ll remind you half the papers jammed in the boxes were worthless.”
“But there’s got to be more information somewhere that we don’t have.” She had a thought. “Small town newspapers—especially back then—detailed the lives of people in the community by calling local gossip news. So and so went for supper at so and so’s house. So and so won the pie-eating contest at the church social. Ellie Mae was seen dancing with Tom, Dick and Harry at the street dance.”
Boone laughed. “Ellie Mae? Is that name from what I think it’s from?”
“Yes, I watched every episode of The Beverly Hillbillies on classic TV at least three times.” Sierra poked his arm. “What old TV show was your guilty pleasure?”
“Guess.”
She groaned. “You know I hate guessing games.”
“Yep, but if you guess, I’ll help you scour these pages and we’ll dissect the library archives piece by piece until we break the news of the hundred-year-old scandal.”
That perked her up. Boone’s appearance today had shocked her since she’d finished the history project last week. And if he promised his help, she’d still get to hang out with him. “Even if I guess wrong?”
“Yep.”
“The Love Boat.”
Boone laughed. Hard. “God, McKay, you are so freakin’ hilarious sometimes.”
She buffed her nails on her chest. “But I guessed right, didn’t I?”
“No. Guess again.”
“The Adventures of Daniel Boone.”
“Seriously?”
She blinked innocently. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Do ya think?” he half-snarled. “I was saddled with this ridiculous name because of that man. And my ditzy mother named her other son Crockett, after Davy Crocket.”
“No lie?”
“No lie. She named her daughter Oakley. After Annie Oakley. Who does that to a kid?”
“You’re off topic.” She jabbed his chest with her index finger. “Tell. Me. Your. Favorite. Old. Show.”
“The Dukes of Hazzard.”
“Funny.”
“I’m serious. And for me it was all about Daisy Duke and those short shorts. Man. She was something.”
Seeing the dreamy look on Boone’s face…now she knew exactly what pieces to add to her summer wardrobe. Speaking of summer…she’d wondered how to bring this up. “So can you believe there’s only a month left of school?”
“Can’t say as I’ll be unhappy to see the ass-end of high school.”
“Is the West family throwing a graduation party for you?”
“I told them no way and if they did I wouldn’t show up. I don’t even want to walk with my class. I can’t f**king wait to walk away from my class.”
“Are your parents coming to the ceremony?”
Boone closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the couch. “Gives me a headache thinking about it. In fact, I’ve had a low-grade headache all day.”
Almost without thought Sierra reached out, and her fingers brushed away the thick hank of hair that perpetually fell in his eyes. She flattened her palm on his forehead. He didn’t flinch, or ask why she was touching him; he made a low groan.
“Your hand is cold, but it feels good.”
She seized the chance to study his beautiful face up close. Starting with the wide span of his jaw and the dark razor stubble that reached the hollow of his cheeks. He’d said his nose had been broken twice, but it looked straight to her. Her focus drifted to his mouth. She’d spent hours imagining the fullness and softness of his lips on hers.
Boone’s long lashes slowly lifted.
Her belly jumped. But she didn’t back away. This close she could discern the various shades of brown that swirled together to create his striking eye color. His eyes were so expressive. But she had no idea what he was thinking right now.
He’s thinking you’re a pervert and you need to get your hand off him.
She casually brushed his silky hair back and retreated.
“Thanks. It actually feels better.”
“Any time.” Seriously. I can put my hands on your face any time you need it.