Page 112 of Sterling Stone

I sigh. He’s so sweet.

Stone shuts my door and rounds the truck, hopping into his seat. He starts the engine with the press of a button, then turns toward me. “Got a curfew?”

He’s so cute. “Little old for curfews.”

Aunt Trudy hasn’t put any parameters on my stay at her house. The self-imposed rule of being around her every second falls on me, but Trudy is nearly a month out from her heart attack. The doctors say she’s a modern miracle, and she’ll be starting therapy soon.

Only a few more weeks, Aunt Trudy told me. I won’t need to stay any longer.

The words were only a tease from Trudy. Meaning nothing more than I wouldn’t have to linger. She knows I have the itch to paint and the need to use my gift for communities. That part of me is ingrained into who I am.

Still, what if I wanted to stay? What if I wanted Trudy and Simon, and Stone, to be a new community for me? A family.

With all our broken pieces, we could be a whole.

I glance over at Stone as he drives us away from the dance.

He seemed genuinely excited earlier this evening when I mentioned staying.

Sister, Vale had called me earlier. And I consider Genie and Enya, and all the rest of the girls. How welcoming they’ve been. How easily they’ve pulled me in, considering me one of them.

Sisters. I have my own, and yet who would ever turn down more? Who could walk away from the friendships they are offering me?

With my eyes still on him, I question—how could I leave this man?

“Can you spend the night, then?” Stone asks, oblivious to my thoughts as we barrel over the mountain road.

“Maybe we should make it midnight?” I wrinkle my nose, still concerned for Trudy’s well-being. She’d left the dance shortly after we saw her with Emory. She’ll be asleep early, as everything still zaps her energy. Still, I don’t like to leave her overnight.

He smiles as he reaches over for my hand and pulls it to his lap. “Midnight it is, Cinderella.”

Midnight. Which means we still have a little while before the clock strikes the end of another day.

And I realize Stone isn’t driving toward Trudy’s home, but his own. Except, once he pulls onto the gravel driveway, he continues past the house, driving us deeper into the darkness behind it.

“Where are we going?” I question as Stone slows his speed, and the truck bounces over the rugged two-tire lane that looks rarely traveled.

“I’m the sheriff, so while I know all the places people make out, I can’t get caught in them.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “Plus, this is really the best place in town.”

“To make out,” I confirm.

He chuckles, resting my hand back on his thigh. “Am I getting ahead of myself?” His voice is playful, while hesitant. He won’t press for anything I don’t want from him.

“Hey, don’t you remember? I’m the one who suggested a quickie earlier.” Because I’m not stupid. Stone Sylver is one fine man, and I already know how he can wield his body against mine. I’ve missed him since last Sunday afternoon. The light touches and intense kisses have happened all week, but I still long for more. Joining us together, sleeping in his arms.

“Don’t want to be quick with you, Taxi,” he admits, slowing to a stop.

Jesus. This man.

He sets the truck in Park. He turns toward me, and I catch the wiggle of his brows in the dashboard lights. “Give me two seconds.”

He pushes open his door and reaches behind the driver’s seat. Tossing a blanket over his shoulder, he also picks up a small reusable bag.

“Don’t peek,” he warns, teasingly pointing a finger at me. “Just look through the windshield a second. Count the stars.” He points toward the glass.

“What stars?” I ask, but as soon as I gaze forward, he reaches forward and shuts off the ignition, immersing us in darkness.

And I’m mesmerized by the bright display of pinpricks that look like perfectly placed dots, decorating the sky. While science can explain how stars exist, they look hung from a black curtain and the beautiful backdrop to a romantic night.