Page 82 of Sterling Stone

“I took a job under a good man who endorsed my position after he retired, and I’ve been the sheriff for more than fifteen years.”

Taxi stares at me for a long minute, and I almost worry I’ve told her too much. I know her distrust of the law, but I want her to believe in me.

“You are a good man, Stone Sylver.”

My cheeks heat, and I deflect the compliment. “Haven’t you heard? I’m Superman.”

Typically, I wouldn’t consider myself a superhero. I’m just a guy who loves his siblings and knew my mama would want us to stick together. I believe in my heart my father wanted his children all together as well, even though he disappeared in a bottle. We were a constant reminder of what he had with our mom. Their love was present every day in children who looked like her and loved like her, even if he turned into a hateful man.

Taxi scoots off her stool and rounds the island to stand in front of me. I spin, leaning my ass against the counter, and she steps between my spread legs. Her hand cups my chin.

“Hi,” I whisper.

Her response is tipping up on her toes and kissing me. Kissing me slow and tender, pulling me under her spell.

Her hand comes gently to my forearm, and our kiss breaks. “How’s the arm feel?”

“Feels like I can make you dinner.”

She smiles but doesn’t step back. Instead, she leans into me, returns her mouth to mine, and kisses me again with more intensity, more urgency, reminding me of the night we met. Her lips suck at mine. Her tongue seeks as well.

I cup her ass, and she circles my neck with her arms, lining herself up against me. Her breasts plaster against my chest, and I tug her tighter to me. The kiss continues with sympathy and compassion and understanding.

Life isn’t always easy.

Moments like this make it better.

I spin with our mouths still connected and hitch her upward by her butt, setting her on the edge of the island. She breaks contact only long enough to move my wineglass and then wrap her legs around the back of mine, tugging me toward her. Tilting her head, our kiss turns hungry, almost desperate, and I bring her flush to me again, nudging where I’m long and hard against where she’s warm and soft.

She’s still wearing those denim overalls, and I can’t wait to peel her out of them later. I want to strip her down to nothing and take her to my bed, but I also want to do this right.

Slowly, I pull back, setting my forehead against hers.

“You putting on the brakes?” she breathes heavily, and I watch her breasts lift and lower.

“Just making a little pit stop for dinner. Let me feed you, Taxi.”

“Lots of innuendo in that statement, Superman.” She pulls back and laughs. The sound is almost musical, lightening the tension in my chest I hadn’t known was there.

“I like your laugh,” I admit, stroking my finger around her ear to brush back her hair.

“I like your smile.” She runs her finger along my bottom lip.

Her compliment only makes me smile wider, like a love-sick fool. Deep down, I could love this woman if I thought she’d be open to it. If I thought she’d stay.

With my hands on her firm backside, I lift her off the counter and set her on her feet. I don’t immediately let her go, but lean in for one more heated kiss to tide me over until after we eat.

“You’re a dangerous man,” Taxi says, smoothing her palms over my chest before stepping away from me.

“Made of kryptonite.” I pat my chest as she rounds the island.

She laughs. “Ain’t that the problem?”

29

[Stone]

Taxi is completely addictive. The way she kisses me. The stories she tells. During dinner, she told me more about her travels. The places she’s seen and the murals she’s painted.