Page 22 of Sterling Stone

Have I entered an episode of Twilight Zone? Maybe I’ve been beamed up into an alternate universe?

First Cortland Haven and half his family are in my yard.

Then Trudy and her grandson.

And now this. Tallulah Alexander and her cold shoulder.

Definitely feels like a second Ice Age on this planet.

8

[Taxi]

Stone Sylver.

He’s the Stone Sylver.

Talk about a plot twist.

And how the hell did I not know this about him?

The initial shock of seeing him again immediately wore off when I remembered why I should not be excited to see him. That ongoing war within me, battling over the best kiss I’d ever had and the unexpected betrayal from the next morning. The continuing skirmish between feeling a deep-seated gut instinct that he was different, and then finding out he wasn’t, and yet still being conflicted by the obvious.

I saw him with another woman the following morning.

You don’t get a more meaningful message from the Universe, even if a teeny tiny niggling sensation tells me I might have had it all wrong. I ignore that miniscule smudge of unease because the broader picture is that Stone wasn’t who I thought he was.

And now I’m really discovering he isn’t who I believed him to be—just a random man I met in Knoxville and haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

Because he’s a fucking Sylver!

Let’s take his name out of the equation for a second and focus on the uptick in my pulse at his nearness behind me. His breath against my neck and the edge to his voice, as if I’m the one who’d done wrong in this situation.

What am I doing here? he asked.

I haven’t the faintest idea. One minute Aunt Trudy invited me to visit Sterling Falls for a few days over the holiday, and the next thing I knew, I was attending a baseball game slash barbecue at the home of a well-known family . . . and one of my best friends from high school.

I briefly glare in the direction of Judd, but first I have another brother to approach.

Trudy already explained the basics. Two teams led by the oldest two brothers.

Stone. His name whispers through my head again, but I shake the thought along with a shiver as I sense his presence still behind me.

I wasn’t particularly athletic. Didn’t even know the rules of baseball, but I knew one thing: I could not be on Stone’s team.

Walking directly to Clay, who looks just like he did as a kid only a little more weathered and a lot more silvered, I stick out my hand.

“Taxi.” I boldly reintroduce myself. “I want to be on your team.”

I haven’t seen Clay in years, although I know he runs the Sylver Seed & Soil, a new destination in our small town, putting Sterling Falls on the map.

His blue eyes are similar to his older brother’s. Soft and kind, but more playful, less guarded, and I hate that I catalogue all this information with a mere glance. Hate that I remember so easily how Stone looked at me. With hunger and restraint. With desire and reserve.

Clay glances around me.

Stone’s continues to linger behind me even though I wanted to leave him in the dust, crossing this baseball diamond as quickly as I could without making more of a scene.

When we shook hands, mine trembled within his hold. Attempting to act unaffected by his touch, my body betrayed me, especially when Aunt Trudy shared that little nugget about painting her old shed. I clutched at Stone like I needed him to ground me when I don’t want to be grounded. I revel in being permanently untethered, or so I tell myself every few days.