Page 101 of Sterling Stone

“Nope. She’s the one.”

“The one what?” I ask, a little too defensively.

“The woman he wanted to⁠—”

“Okay,” Stone holds up a hand with all the authority he possesses as a sheriff. “Let’s not give away all my secrets at the first meeting.”

Emerson chuckles. “Well, knowing my secrets are bigger than yours, I guess I’ll hold my tongue. If you’ll excuse me a second, I’m going to use the ladies’ room.”

She slips from her stool, and I watch her walk away—poised, confident, not sizing me up even once. It throws me off. I was ready for claws, for competition, for her to claim she had him first.

But nothing. She seemed nice enough, confident in her place as his friend, respectful even of that position. Respectful of Stone. And as his friend, she seemed happy for him. Happy he has me.

The second she’s gone, Stone takes a seat on his stool.

“I should probably get back to⁠—”

“You didn’t tell me you were going out.” His hands come easily to my hips, like it’s the most natural place for them to be. He spreads his knees to fit me between them.

“And you told me you had a work-related dinner,” I counter, my voice coming out softer than I intended.

“Taxi.” Stone’s voice lowers, turns warmer. “Emerson is the mayor. I’m the sheriff. We’re still friends, and sometimes we need to talk outside of the offices we work for.”

I believe him, and a small part of me hates that I believe him, because believing him is dangerous. Believing him feels like stepping onto ground that might actually hold my weight, and that’s never been my experience with men.

Stone is just a constant conundrum, steady as bedrock one second, and throwing me off balance the next by letting me get this close to his real life.

“Genie invited me to book club,” I say, scanning down his uniform, my hand landing on that badge.

Genie. His sister. His sisters-in-law, more women, more of his family and friends, pulling me into their circle, arms open, hearts eager.

“Ah. Book club.” Those hands on my hips draw me closer and glide up my side, like he can’t help himself. He needs to outline my figure, confirm I’m standing here.

“And you’re wearing that skirt again.” He hums appreciatively. “You had that on the night we met.”

“I had this on the other day,” I remind him.

“I remember.” He bites the corner of his lip. “I remember everything about you.”

Soft pressure against my lower back forces me to step even closer to him.

“Stone,” I whisper, like someone will hear him. Someone could mysteriously interpret what he means about the other night.

“So, book club?” He chuckles. “Let me know if you find a selection you like.” He gives me a wink, knowing the truth about the club. He’s so playful right now, almost silly.

“I just needed a night out.” Stone already knows that I’m struggling with the day in and day out tasks of catering to Trudy’s needs. Her house is only so big, and there is only so much cleaning, cooking, and laundry to be done. My creative itch needs scratching.

“I would have taken you out,” Stone says, sounding a little hurt that I hadn’t asked him.

I don’t respond because he’s already done so much. He comes to Trudy’s every night, and he would have been there tonight if he hadn’t seen me here first.

“This weekend is Founder’s Day. We celebrate the birth of Milton County.” He arches a brow toward Emerson’s seat, implying this is the reason for their out-of-office meeting. “There’s a barn dance held on the Milton property.”

I nod like I understand when I haven’t heard much about a Founder’s Day celebration before.

“Tallulah Alexander, would you be my date to the dance?” Stone gives me that sheepish look he sometimes has. A bashful grin accompanies the gleam in his Montana-sky eyes.

“You askin’ me out on an official date?” I tease. We might have gone to lunch by the river, but that was before everything reached a new level. A level that feels monumental and growing every day, building higher, getting taller, stronger.