Her opinion of me means a lot, and I’d hate to be lesser in her eyes. Stone may be her son, but she’s not oblivious to his behavior and wishes for him to sow his oats and settle down more than anyone. We both know it’s not with me.
All I notice with Mrs. Stalinski is the pure joy at watching Stone and I bicker over how finely to slice onions and the perfect amount of salt to add to any dish. I catch her eye at one point, and she smiles over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes alert and candid.
After the kitchen returns to its spotless condition, I leave them chatting over coffee. Saturday is any other day in my world. My shifts are seven days a week, and I have three patients to see.
I’m finishing up with my last patient, Mrs. Cavendish, when a text comes through.
Stone: See you in 10.
The phone drops to my side. I’m half tempted—no, entirely driven to respond with an excuse that I have a lunch date with Carly and have to cancel. Until Carly responded to my desperate text a few hours ago, saying she was stuck in the city on a case and couldn’t drive down.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the two were in cahoots to have me sitting with Stone, fully clothed and without the excuse of naked fun to distract us. But it’s no secret Carly hates Stone, and if she were ever in cahoots involving him, it would be on where to bury his body.
I wish Mrs. Cavendish well and tell her not to use the stairs without her husband around, and after that, have no excuse to linger. The roads are empty on the way into town and a parking spot opens up directly in front of the Merc.
“Damn you,” I say to the celebrity gods before pulling in, turning off the engine, and resigning myself to a lunch date with Stone.
I take solace in the fact that I’m in my scrubs and didn’t dress up. Too many times, I wanted to look good for him, especially after a night of sex. I was one of those girls who sprinted out of bed before their man woke up to brush my hair, put on deodorant, and insistI woke up like thiseven though Stone clearly knew better.
“I like you messy and roughed up by me,” he’d murmur into my lips before rolling on top of me.
The memory sends shivers down my spine. I shake it off, hardening my resolve by recalling the last vivid, terrible memory I have of him. That makes it easier to stroll into the Merc’s cafe side with a straight back and closed mouth, scanning for Stone’s broad shoulders.
I spot him at a tabletop near the back. Two girls nearby keep darting glances his way, whispering and giggling. He’s in his 30s, way older than them, yet he has the type of powerful charisma coupled with unnaturally good looks that would make anyone attracted to a male specimen melt at the sight.
He’s in a blue button-down and jeans, somewhat adapting to Falcon Haven’s warm-casual fashion and losing his suit.
When did he lose the suit? I can’t even remember, and we’ve been together constantly.
He looks up and catches me across the room, eyes only for me.
A secret tremble shoots down my body. When he wants to turn it on, he’s a goddamned florescent light.
“Your usual?”
Maisy’s smoker’s voice, louder than usual, flows into my ear. I force myself to turn toward her.
She’s at the register, staring at me with crossed arms and a knowing smile.
“Sure, Maisy,” I say with an extra-sweet grin. “With extra mayo.”
“I bet. Added some extracurricular to your lifestyle, eh?”
“Maisy, please.”
“Girl, I know a smitten study when I see one, and you’re looking at that boy like you can pour him onto a plate and savor his taste.”
“Maisy!” My mouth opens, horrified. “I am not!”
“Yeah, okay, I believe you.” Maisy’s accompanying look says,Not.“Your sandwich’ll come up behind his. Go sit down and don’t take any of his slick crap. You have a sound mind, my girl. Stone or William or whatever the hell he calls himself now likely still leads with his little head and zero brains.”
Stone glances up over at his name, narrowing in on Maisy suspiciously.
“Your order’s coming right up, darling!” she trills at him before her expression snaps back to flat and unimpressed as she turns to me. “Sex is great, but you be careful with that one.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I defend.
“Uh-huh.”
