Page 23 of Still Yours
“I appreciate you rearranging your schedule. Even if it’s temporary and Ma fights you on it, it’s absolutely the best solution. Especially if you have someone waiting for you at home…”
I pause at the balustrade, curious over Stone’s not-so-subtle fishing of my marital status. “There’s no one but Moo.”
“Bring him.” I’m thankful Stone’s not like the rest of the town and doesn’t question why I’m single or why there’s no one but an elderly, grumpy cat at home. “I’d like to see him again.”
“You remember Moo?”
“Of course.” Stone says it like he hasn’t erased every single aspect of his Falcon Haven self.
I eye him curiously, a smile pulling at my lips until I yank them back into a firm line. “I’ll see if it’s okay with your mom first, but it would make it easier to have him here.”
I start up the stairs as Stone says, “I could always rely on you, Noa. I’m glad some things haven’t changed.”
There’s a hitch to my step. I hope he doesn’t see. My grip tightens on the bowl to the point it might crack if I don’t loosen my emotions.
Other than that, I have no reaction to his white-collar words.
None.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Noa
Mrs. Stalinski takes the news of her new roommates with grudging acceptance. I have the sense that with her son here, she’s more amenable to changes she’d otherwise resolutely deny. Stone softens her in the same way she unexpectedly softens him. It’s amusing to watch them try to out-manipulate the other into doing what they want, considering she’s the only human on the planet who can get away with calling this intimidating, polished manhoneybear.
I catch myself smiling when Stone tries to hand Mrs. Stalinski a coffee without sugar after she rustles awake midmorning.
She’s suspicious the instant she cups the warm drink, wrinkling her nose and sniffing it before shoving it in my direction. “I don’t know what California’s done to you, son, but Noa understands how I like it.”
“Almond milk and collagen peptides have proven benefits, Ma.” Stone watches the cup exchange hands like he’s witnessing the loss of his most important client.
“I’ve taken my coffee with cream and sugar since before you were a seed in my belly,” Mrs. Stalinski says before gesturing to me with ahurry up and fix itmotion.
With a subtle laugh, I shut my patient logbook and slide off the countertop’s barstool. “If it’s the last thing I do before I leave, it’ll be to get you a perfect cup of coffee.”
“I like that sound.” Stone angles his head as he watches me round the kitchen island.
“What sound?” My brows furrow as I glance at him.
“Your laughter. I haven’t heard it until now.”
My grin wilts, its petals lying dry against my tongue. “You’ve been here half a day and one night.”
The idea of him thinking I’m depressed or unhappy while stuck in Falcon Haven while he lives it up in Los Angeles grates me the wrong way.
“It wasn’t meant as an insult,” he says, straightening and heading for the hallway. “Will you both be okay without me for a few hours?”
I open my mouth to retort,I’ve lived ten years without you just fine,when my brain catches up and shuts it before I make the gaping wound he left behind that obvious.
“I’ll be fine,” Mrs. Stalinski says, rolling her eyes in my direction. “Most I get up to these days is reading and sitting in the garden, and I’m fairly certain I can be successful at both activities without your brutish form hovering.”
“My job is to assess problems and solve them.”
I wonder if it’s just me who catches the painful shard of glass in his eye before he says that.
“Do you remember the harvest dance, Noa?”
I jolt. Against my better judgment, I respond, “How could I forget?”
