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Vivian bounced back into the kitchen. Stone strolled in behind her all long legs and lop-sided smile.
Wrong. This was abigproblem.
I dug my fingernails into my palm when our eyes locked. I’d seen this man a thousand times. We’d shared meals, vacations, and important moments. But today was different.
I’d become a master at pretending he didn’t affect me, but I couldn’t steady my nerves. The dishtowel was threaded so tightly between my fingers, I thought they might break.
My throat went dry. He hardly ever wore anything other than jeans, but the way they molded to his legs spelled trouble and pulled my mind in a direction it did not need to go. The dark chocolate plaid snap-button shirt was new. Not that I took stock of his wardrobe…much.
Country-cool, he sauntered around the island in my kitchen until he stood next to me. I stopped breathing and refused to turn toward him. I pleaded with my eyes to Vivian for her to not make me go through with this. If I did, something fundamental would change. I liked my life. It was constant and certain. But now the ground was shifting beneath me, and I couldn’t get my footing.
“You’re breathtaking, darlin’.”
I swayed into the counter. This was bad. So very bad. I struggled to get my reaction to him under control. “Hello, Stone.” The words came out stiff, a betrayal of my anxiety.
I chanced a look in his direction in time to see his expression soften. He reached for me, but dropped his arm when he thought better of it. Touching was a hard limit for me except with Vivian and Daniel.
Vivian clapped her hands, and I jumped at the noise, wary when she rounded the island.
“As much fun as this is, you two’d better get going.” She placed my small hand in his large, warm, callused one, and everything stopped.
I stared at the place where we were joined. New desires and old fears clawed to the surface. I yanked my hand away. Vivian’s mouth dropped open. Stone’s flattened.
“I can’t do this.” My chin quivered, but I held his gaze.
He cocked his head. “I held up my end of the deal. You aren’t backing out on me, are you?”
Chapter Two
Stone
Close.
We were so damn close I could taste it. But Muriella was retreating into a corner fast, and if I didn’t do something, this date I’d waited six years for wasn’t going to happen.
Vivian shot me a helpless look, but I kept my cool…on the exterior at least.
That dishtowel Muriella clutched like a lifeline was so tight around her delicate fingers, the fabric was stretched to the point of ripping. She was scared. I got that. But I knew if she’d just give me a chance, I could take all her fears away. I’d coerced her into the dates in the first place by playing on her devotion to Vivian and Daniel. It was low of me to only agree to help Vivian make Daniel jealous if Muriella would go on three dates with me. I knew full well she wasn’t too keen on the idea, but I’d seen it as maybe the best chance I’d ever get. Maybe I’d pushed too far. Too soon. It was all I could do not to snort at that. We’d waited long enough.
Or maybe this was about last night. I boiled every time I remembered the sight of her tied up, gun held to her head. Out of all of us, she’d been the most brave through the whole thing. I’d hardly slept after, that image engraved on my mind. What should’ve been a night of anticipation for this date had become one of consuming anger tinged with a fear I couldn’t shake.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d gotten up, phone in hand, to demand Daniel tell me where I could find those sons of bitches and show them what a mistake they’d made ever laying a finger on her. One quick pull. That was all that had separated life and death for Muriella. One. Pull.
The whole damned fiasco had reinforced one thing for sure: I couldn’t lose her.
My feelings for her were solid. I’d always been sure of them, but seeing her like that had set them in concrete. Knowing we had been an instant away from never getting to this very point had strengthened my resolve to see where this thing between us could go. We’d lost so much time. Going on this date today wasn’t ideal timing, but if Muriella had her way, there’d be no such thing. If I thought she was so skittish because she truly wasn’t interested, I’d have dropped the whole thing in a New York minute. But we’d been doing this dance a long time, and I was pretty sure there was something there for her too. The wall she’d put up to protect herself had nothing to do with me. I was a patient man, and come hell or high water, I intended to get through that wall.
Muriella stared at the granite countertop, but no tears fell. That was a positive sign.
Gently, I tugged on the end of the dishtowel. She cut her eyes over to me. A deep mocha color that was anything but ordinary, they were magnetic. A maze to get lost in. That’s what those eyes did to me.
“You’re gonna break your fingers or rip this towel in two. I haven’t decided which will happen first.” I pried the fabric from her hands and tossed it on the counter, out of her reach.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s the problem.”
Her nostrils flared. “You know what the problem is.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”
