Page 59 of Still Yours
Serves me right to think I could be content with Stone by my side. All he brings inside my comfort zone is trouble.
The house is dark by the time we pull up, Mrs. Stalinski long asleep. Stone gets out first and I follow, trekking up the shadowed patio and into the house without conversation. Neither of us bother to turn on the lights in the foyer since we’re both so familiar with the layout.
“Good night, Noa.”
Stone’s crisp voice cuts through the darkness and I pause on the first step of the staircase, my hand lingering on the banister.
“Good night, Mr. Williams,” I say with equal distanced flare.
Normally, I’d saythank you for tonightorthank you for coming to the restaurant with me, but after his behavior, such a sentiment would be awkward and ineffective.
I pad up the stairs, my last image of Stone framed by strips of moonlight coming through the windows as he stands and waits for me to disappear up the staircase.
He hides any emotion behind an apathetic mask, his skin whitened into silver by the moon and his feelings just as far away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Stone
Ican fall asleep on hard ground without issue. One time, when wooing a client, I had to stay overnight in Yellowstone. He was an avid explorer when not running his billion-dollar company. I curled up in a tent, the weather turning below freezing, and conked out with the dedication of a coma patient, only rising to the mumbling and cursing of the rest of the execs trying to win him over, as someone tried to start a fire and warm themselves. My extremities were numb, but I slept through it.
Yet on Ma’s pull-out couch in her den, I can’t so much as close my eyes. I toss and turn, kicking the covers off, then pulling them back on, tucking myself up to my chin, then discarding them again. I’m not hot or cold or physically hindered in any other way. It’s my head that’s the problem, full of images from this evening, except different.
Noa hanging on Chef Saint’s every word while he teachers her to properly stir a mixture in a bowl (which is absurd. Obviously she knows how to stir). Him coming up behind her and showing her how to do it, pressing his chest against her,guiding her arm with his hand before her mouth parts and she turns into him for a kiss, her hands reaching for his pants…
“Goddammit,” I mumble, sitting up.
The sheets fall from my bare chest. I scrub my hands down my face, as if that action can erase these obtrusive thoughts from my brain.
It shouldn’t matter if she has the hots for the tattooed chef. I want Noa to be happy, don’t I?
Except, she’d be better off with me.
Aclankrings out from the other side of my door. I finally notice the golden light drifting in from under the frame and shadows flickering as something moves.
Accepting that sleep will not come easy, I slide off the bed, thinking maybe it’s Ma looking for a midnight snack and a chat. I could use the distraction and she could probably use the help, so I open the door and slink into the hall so as not to startle her.
Once I reach the kitchen, I see Noa in full cook mode, pulling out Ma’s entire pot and pan collection, as well as a good portion of the pantry, all laid out on the breakfast counter like helpful soldiers.
Noa doesn’t see me. Her back is to me and she’s dressed in a pink satin short and shirt combo with Ma’s apron tied over it. The fabric shines over her curves—specifically, the curve of her ass as her bare feet pad around the linoleum while she prepares.
She’s humming under her breath, her hair piled up on top of her head. Moo’s joined her, threading between her legs and meowing his support as she deftly hops around him.
“What are you doing?”
Noa screeches and nearly drops the boiling pot she’s carrying from the stove to … somewhere. She sets it down at the same time Moo yowls and his nails skitter across the floor as he seeks cover.
“Stone! You scared me.”
“Similar to what you’re doing to me right now.” I scan the mess. “Do you know what time it is?”
I check my watch just to be sure. 3 am.
“Did I wake you?” she asks.Then: “Good.”
I decide to be honest with her. “No. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.” Then she laughs as she takes in her environment. “But I suppose that’s obvious.”
