Page 105 of Sterling Stone

She slowly shakes her head, lowering her gaze again. Her voice softens. “Enough to stay.”

One minute, my stomach is plummeting to my toes, and the next, my heart is leaping to my throat.

“Yeah?’ I question, excitement having me in a chokehold. Hope wrestling within me.

“Yeah.” She chews her lower lip, and I use my thumb to snag it free.

Then I’m kissing her again, pouring all my hope into the possibility.

Taxi might stay.

For good.

37

[Taxi]

Stone nearly lifts me off my feet. With his hands around my lower back and his mouth on me, I’m on my tiptoes once again, feeling light, feeling airy, almost giddy. He’s so playful tonight, so carefree and honest.

Everything he’s wished for.

Everything he never thought he’d have.

Every word was the same as my hopes, and all I hear now is the rushing of my blood and the hammering of my heart.

He wants me. He wants me to stay.

I hate that he questioned what we are, who we should be, and as much as I no longer feel threatened by Emerson Milton, I’m a little angry on Stone’s behalf that he was used like that. As arm candy, as a plaything. Not sexually, just publicly.

Stone deserves happiness, and I want that happiness to be me.

“Now we’re really making a statement,” he teases, pulling his lips from mine and placing me back on my feet, but I stumble on the uneven grass. Could also be because my knees tremble a little bit, my heart beating off kilter.

Stone Sylver has that effect on me.

“Giddy up,” I tease, tugging his hat from his head one more time.

Save the horse, ride the sheriff.

I didn’t think he was telling me the full truth about parking his truck on the edge of the lot, nor about the small-town stuff he’d been discussing with Emerson the other night, like heightened security, but I didn’t pry. If Stone wanted to share sheriff business, I’d listen, but I also sense his hesitation to share that part of him with me, because of him. Because he knows how I feel about the law in general.

And now, I hope he knows how I feel about him.

He makes me want to stay. And it does scare me. Not enough to run, but enough to dig in my heels and plant in one place.

But tonight, I want my date, just like him, so I loop my arm back through his, and we approach the barn, with its sliding doors wide open on each side of the entrance. The place looks like Pandora’s box, a warm yellow glow beaming out of the opening. A hint of magic and mystic inside.

The outside of the structure remains rustic and worn, while the inside is an explosion of light pine, like new construction happened within the aging confines.

Support beams and columns hold small light bulbs on wires, giving the place the country ambiance it deserves. Speakers are tucked into corners, and a live band plays on a raised platform. Completing the atmosphere are hay bales in corners as decoration and lined against the wall for seating. A bar runs the length of one wall, minus stools, allowing for standing room only.

“It looks like a Hallmark movie set,” I whisper a little in awe. “Hallmark on steroids.”

To my surprise, the female singer with the band starts singing about Texas, her voice throaty and rich, sounding exactly like Beyonce, while she cantors her tune.

I let out a little squeak of excitement and break into the trendy line dance associated with “Texas Hold ‘Em”.

Stone stands beside me a second, a smirk on his face as I bounce to the left and take one step to the right, but when the song mentions only wanting to slow dance with her partner, Stone shocks me.