Page 79 of Sterling Stone

I sigh heavily. “What dating comment?”

“The one where you asked me about dating.”

“Someone brown sugar,” I tease, lightening my tone so we can let this moment pass.

His eyes lock on mine. “Someone who takes my breath away when I look at her.”

Dammit. Why does he have to look at me like that? Like he wants to pull me into his lap and wrap me in his arms. Like he believes those arms can keep me safe from jerks like the Andy Whitehalls of the world, which is an impossible task.

And why am I suddenly vibrating with the need to repeat what happened last night? Be close to him. Let him surround me again. Let him take care of me.

Because last night was more than learning Stone Sylver gives good orgasms. He did take care of me, making sure the moment was what I wanted, giving me all the power. And then his subtle touches, sweet kisses, and holding me again while we slept meant more than he’ll ever know.

He wasn’t out the door after what happened. He was clinging to me like he wanted to stay . . . wanted me to stay.

“Are we dating, Taxi?” He asks in such a hesitant, almost shy way, and his cheeks blush just a touch, reminding me of the man standing in a hotel hallway, doing a little left-right hustle. So cute. So sweet.

“Let me give you whatever you need . . . while you’re here.” He’s been plucking at the denim over my legs, and I set my hand over his, pulling the one covered in a bandage onto my thigh.

While you’re here, rolls over in my head. He isn’t asking for a long-term commitment, isn’t pinning me down, and I ignore that teeny-tiny pinch in my chest wishing he would.

Laying my hand flat over his, like he had ours positioned when we had a picnic by the lake, I say, “Do you solemnly swear to arrest anyone breathing my air that I don’t like?”

Stone fights a smile. The corner of his mouth lifting, struggling, like he doesn’t want to let the tension go, but he can’t fight it. He’s useless under my superpower—humor.

“Dammit, Taxi.” He chuckles, unable to win the battle against laughter. “Pure kryptonite.”

“Speaking of kryptonite, how do you feel about alien domination role-playing?”

Stone stares at me, his sky-blue eyes opened as wide as the heavens above, then he lets out a laugh. One loud and sharp and tickling my insides.

I grin. He lifts our hands and presses a kiss to my knuckles.

“I might be open to it, but I thought you were in a silver fox phase now.”

Glancing from that mustache to his silver peppered scruff and then fixing on his bright eyes, I admit, “Definitely in my silver fox era.”

I pause. “Now. Tell me about your arm.”

28

[Stone]

“There was an accident on the highway,” I begin, feeling like my own story is inconsequential compared to what just happened with Andy, but Taxi doesn’t want to let my injury go.

“That’s the reason I’m here so early.” I glance down at the bandage. The EMT on call insisted I have the cut stitched.

“Two-car collision. Pretty bad crash,” I explain, omitting the gorier details like how the passenger in one vehicle hadn’t been wearing a seat belt and the driver of the other car had fallen asleep at the wheel. For now, the assumption is the person was going home after a long shift.

“Stuck my arm through the window to check the vitals of an injured victim.” I twist my arm, glancing at the bandage again. My skin feels tight beneath the wrap, stitches pulling in my flesh, which is nothing more than a scrape compared to the physical damage done to the three victims. “Got cut on the glass.”

“Stone.” Taxi’s voice grows louder as her hand hovers over my arm, which she’s placed in her lap. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

Her silvery eyes catch on mine, confusing me. She looks genuinely concerned for my well-being, but that’s not the confusing part. It’s that I can’t remember the last time someone other than family looked at me like she is, worry etched between her brows, mouth tight.

“Accidents happen,” I admit, swallowing thickly. Trying not to think about what could have happened to those three people, innocently making their way somewhere. Knowing I’ve thought about such accidents happening to Taxi, as she travels all over for her art.

But also, that thickness happens from an overwhelming sense that Taxi cares about me. The world has been unkind to her in so many ways, but she’s worried about a little scratch on me.