“Will do, doll.” Maisy sets her boots near the door, then climbs up the stairs.
“Hey, girl.”
Carly envelops me in a hug, her long, auburn hair cold against my cheek from being outside. She’s dressed in a maroon cap-sleeved dress under her plaid coat, appearing refreshed and beautiful despite her commute.
“Hi,” I say, a little too emotionally. I didn’t realize how much I needed a hug from my best friend until she gave me one.
Carly senses the change and pulls me in tighter.
“Everything good?” she murmurs into my ear.
“Yes, of course.” I blink back my emotion. Now’s not the time to tell her about Mrs. Stalinski’s failing health and my growing feelings for her famous son. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missedyou. Like miss missed. I’m so glad I’m here and I’m ready to catch up when you are.” She kisses my forehead before pulling away.
“Stone,” she says while brushing past him into the living room.
“Carly,” he greets with equal flatness as she flounces away.
I shrug. “Don’t mind her. She hasn’t had as much time with you as I have.”
“You’ve got that right.” His voice fills with promise, but he’s distracted by more company.
I make sure Carly and Mae are settled in with drinks and surrounded by appetizers before I ask Stone, “Where are Rome and Aaron?”
“Coming, I assume.” Stone answers, but his focus is clearly somewhere else. He keeps glancing up the stairs.
Our explosive, amazing sex is long forgotten as Mrs. Stalinski deteriorated throughout the day. I do my best to keep his spirits up, but honestly, cancer is so fucked up and unfair, and I let him go through the emotions of it.
Thirty minutes later, Rome ambles through the front door carrying a cooler of God knows what.
“Hey, farm boy,” Rome drawls as Stone comes into the foyer to meet him, holding two beers. Rome’s in a black Stetson hat, black button-down, and black jeans.
“Dressing up for the holidays, I see,” Stone says, then points at the cooler. Stone’s dressed in what has fast become my favorite white cashmere sweater and jeans. “The hell is that?”
“Fresh venison. I had little else on the farm to bring and figured you’d do with my latest hunting. Noa’s a skilled cook now, I hear.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I say, though I’m flattered. Anyone immune from a man like Rome with his stormy eyes and rugged good looks isn’t someone I’d like to meet. “But thank you. Truly. I haven’t cooked venison in years.”
Stone eyes the cooler like what’s in it is still alive.
“You should come hunting with me next time,” Rome suggests to him.
“No.” Stone passes Rome a beer before making a quick exit.
Amused, I gesture to Rome. “Bring it into the garage. There’s a freezer I can put it in.”
“Lead the way.”
I open the attached door to the garage, and Rome passes through it, carrying the cooler with ease. He sets it down by the freezer and opens it.
Rome’s butchered the deer into separate, edible parts and wrapped them, too.
“Wow, you didn’t have to do all that,” I say as I open the freezer for him to drop them in.
“It was my pleasure. The least I could do after Judy offered up her son as a sacrifice to my ranch.”
I take the carrot he dangled and bite into it. “How’s Stone doing over there, anyway?”
