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He may have shared his burden, but he still carried the brunt of it when all I longed to do was take it away. “What is it you can really do at the ranch right now? Only your grandfather knows about this, right? Maybe it’s best you don’t go. From what I know of Ruby, she’d realize something was wrong as soon as she saw you.”
“That’s the truth.” He dropped his chin down. “I dread telling Mama I’m not gonna make it after all.”
“The sooner you get it over with, the better it will be.” The words to offer to do it for him were on the tip of my tongue, but this was news his mother deserved to hear from her son.
He scrubbed the light stubble on his face. “I have to find somewhere to stay in New York. I checked out of the hotel.”
“You can stay with me.”
Both of us jerked in surprise as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
“I couldn’t impose.”
“I’ve got four bedrooms on an entire floor. You won’t.” Butterflies fluttered inside me, but I decided to be brave. Yet another test to see if I truly meant what I’d told myself about trying harder to at least form a deeper friendship.
“You sure?”
“Keep asking, and I’ll change my mind.” I wasn’t sure at all, but I didn’t want him to know just how scared I was.
His shoulders drooped. “That’s one less thing to worry with. Thanks.”
I could have easily offered him Vivian and Daniel’s apartment. They wouldn’t have minded, and that would have kept him out of my space. I never entertained the idea because at my basest level, I wanted him with me.
That thought sent my world off balance at a time when it had already spun into another orbit. Nothing was the same anymore. Not with Stone. Not with my best friends. Not even with me.
If I were this brave woman who could learn to touch another person, let him into my life, where did that leave the old me? I was stuck in limbo, one foot in the past, one edging toward the future. I was afraid I’d somehow end up torn in half.
Chapter Twenty-One
Stone
“Home sweet home.”
I dropped our bags in the foyer and shrugged off my jacket. Muriella hung both of ours in the closet.
“It’s still Thanksgiving. Want some turkey?” She went straight for the kitchen.
“Is it?” I rubbed at my temples. The only thing I knew was it was almost dark. The day and time? Forget it.
“Yep.” She rummaged though the fridge.
“Doesn’t it take all day to cook a turkey? And aren’t you exhausted? We’ve flown halfway around the world and back in a couple of days.” I collapsed on a barstool.
“If you don’t mind leftovers from when I tested out the menu I’d planned a few weeks ago, there’s some frozen. Along with your grandmother’s recipe for stuffing—”
“Dressing,” I corrected.
“Dressing.” She stuck out her tongue at me over her shoulder.
“Why do you have her recipe for dressing? She won’t even give it to my sister. But that’s probably because Mulaney can’t cook worth a shit.” She cut her eyes at me. “Sorry.”
“I still can’t believe she was in the city and you didn’t introduce us.”
Was that irritation I heard? And why did that please me so much?
“I’m half surprised I got to see her myself. She flew up for a meeting, saw me for a few minutes, and went back to Houston.” I hadn’t spoken to her since. Except I’d heard her two cents in the background when everyone found out I wasn’t coming home after all. “I wanted her and Easton to meet you, but they couldn’t stay.”
“Who’s Easton?” She stacked a few more containers from the freezer on the counter.
