Page 77 of Set In Stone

I wanted to surrender and be the slave that he made me, to stay naked in bed and wait for his return. But I knew I should be there for Hale. Moving my hands up, I rested my palms on either side of Alexander’s handsome face. When I spoke, I tried to keep the regret from showing in myvoice.

“I should go with you. The bed will still be here after we’re through helping him with his mother. And, when we are done, we have all day,” Iadded.

He took my wrists and pinned them to either side of myhead.

“I could make you stayhere.”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew hecould.

“But youwon’t.”

“You’re right, angel. I won’t,” he chuckled and released my wrists. Leaning back to sit on his heels, the corner of his mouth lifted cheekily. “But I will hold you to the promise of being in bed all day. I plan on fucking you all the way through the night and intotomorrow.”

Igrinned.

“I may not put up a fight,” I said with a suggestivewink.

Swinging his leg over me to get off the bed, he dragged me up to join him. He circled my waist and pulled my naked body against his. His hands reached around to cup my cheeks, drawing me tighter to him, as he leaned down to press his lips to myear.

“Go shower and I’ll get your caffeine brewing before you start jonsing for a fix,” he teased before giving my rump a light smack. I sighed at the mention of coffee and used it as motivation to quickly shower anddress.

After throwing on a pair of jeans and a black top, I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail and followed the aroma of freshly brewed Columbian beans into the kitchen. Alexander stood at the breakfast bar with a toasted bagel and a glass of orange juice. He pointed to the table where a steaming mug of coffee and a buttered bagel were set out forme.

“Eat,” heordered.

He didn’t have to say it twice. My stomach was rumbling before I even came into thekitchen.

Once I downed two cups of coffee and we polished off our bagels, we were in the Tesla by eight-thirty and headed towardBrooklyn.

The Saturday morning traffic was light and we made good time. When we pulled into the parking garage, Alexander took the ticket from the machine at the gate and tossed it on the dash. After we pulled into the first available spot, he picked up the ticket and studied it. A curious expression was on hisface.

“What is it?” Iasked.

“I found a parking receipt on the floor at Justine’s place the other day. I had nearly forgotten about it until I saw this. I’m pretty sure the parking receipt I found matches thisone.”

“Perhaps she was here visiting Hale’smother?”

“I doubt it. Justine hates nursing homes. It would be out of character for her to be here, but I don’t know why else she would be in Brooklyn,” he murmured and shook his head. “I’ll ask Hale about it after we get his mothersettled.”

Alexander looked worried, but I didn’t pry as we made our way out of the parking garage. Once we got to the street, we hurried across to the other side. The cold New York winter winds whipped at the nape of my neck. I was wearing a warm coat, but was wishing that I had added a scarf. I shivered, feeling more than ready for the weather to break. I missed the smell of spring and the feel of the summerheat.

When we reached the entrance to the nursing facility, we had to be buzzed in. Once the door unlocked, Alexander placed his hand on the small of my back and led me into the main lobby. The lobby held several cream and blue cushioned high back chairs. The tabletops were filled with vases of fresh flowers, giving the atmosphere a homey sort of feel. A few residents moved about, talking with one another in hushed voices, almost as if they didn’t want to disturb the quiet serenity of thehome.

Hale strode across the lobby to meet us when he saw us come in. As he approached, I noticed how visibly tired he looked. His normally strong and alert demeanor looked deflated, almost as if he hadn’t slept indays.

“How is she today?” Alexander asked Hale as we walked down the hallway toward Hale’s mother’sroom.

“She’s good actually. Her mind seems a bit clearer ever since I got her back here. I think being back in her familiar surroundinghelps.”

When we walked into the room, Hale’s mother was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room. The creak of the wood floor was audible under the chair as she rocked back and forth. An afghan covered her lap and she was holding a picture frame in herhand.

“Mother, look who came to see you,” Halesaid.

She looked up at Hale’s words and scanned us. She stared at us with indifference, almost as if she didn’t see us, her gray eyes covered with a heavyfog.

“Mrs. Fulton, it’s nice to see you,” Alexandersaid.

She looked down at the picture in her lap and fingered the frame of the picturenervously.

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