No Longer Lost: Secrets Of Stone: Book Nine

by Angel Payne

  “Or what?”

  John crossed his arms over his chest, trying to intimidate Mac away. Mac merely laughed. “Or I’ll escort you to your car myself. And I promise you, you will wish you hadn’t chosen that option.”

  For another long second, John looked like he would really push the point. But with a mocking laugh that sounded like a twelve-year-old scoffing off a video game loss, he used the balls of his toes to bounce backward and scoot away. From over his shoulder, he called, “I’ll see you soon, my love. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, dear God.” I groaned. Really? Was he fucking insane? First of all, with the pet names. Second, right in front of Mac. I shot my stare to Mac—and watched him grow about two inches taller before my eyes.

  “I’m not going to repeat this, John-Boy. Run along. And don’t ever come back here again.” His voice sounded lethal. I was surprised John didn’t piss himself right then and there. I would have.

  But at last, the asshole got the message enough to get in his car and drive away.

  Mac shook his head, picked up the bag of takeout he had set down on the concrete, and came in.

  I laughed, but it was an awkward and nervous sound. I knew this night was about to go in the complete opposite direction of what I’d truly hoped.

  Mac quietly closed the door and locked it behind us. He casually strolled to the kitchen, set the takeout food on the counter, and then got plates from the cupboard.

  I busied myself with getting the food out and putting it on the table. Neither one of us said a word while we moved around each other. I was worried this was the calm before the storm. The quiet before Hurricane Maclain made landfall.

  We took our seats and began to dig in, but before his first forkful met his lips, he looked up at me in an eerily quiet way. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “Yes,” I answered, trying to borrow some of his calm-that-wasn’t-really-calm. “But I don’t want to ruin our night. And you’re going to be very mad. Very. Mad. And what happened to the agreement about just having this all delivered?”

  “I was starving and didn’t want to wait until we ordered and then the time they’d take to get here with it. And I’m already very mad. But not at you.” He stabbed at his food with the vengeance of a modern Van Helsing. “I’m furious at that stupid fucker who can’t seem to respect another man’s belongings.”

  “Belongings?” My eyebrows shot to my hairline.

  “What do you want me to say? Another man’s woman. My property? You’d balk at those terms too. Don’t beat around the actual issue here, Taylor. How the hell did he know where you live?”

  “I’m…I’m not sure.” I let my fork slide from my fingers, my appetite suddenly gone, before dropping my head into my hands. “Okay, that’s not true, either.”

  This whole situation was fucked up, but I’d promised him no more ice-outs. And in this case especially, he deserved the whole truth, no matter how wickedly uncomfortable it was to give up.

  “I…I think he looked at my records at the blood bank. When I left the hospital today, there were sixteen messages on my cell phone from him.”

  Mac said nothing. At first. “I see.”

  I wasn’t sure he did, but I forced myself to go on. “When I got home this afternoon, I took a nap. During that time, he called four times.”

  Silence.

  Too much of it.

  Filled with too much of me, appetite completely gone, watching Mac steadily chew the bite he had just taken, perfect manners and decorum in place. He wiped his mouth with the paper napkin from the restaurant before standing and walking into my living room.

  “Mac, I swear…I didn’t lead him on. I told him explicitly that I was only interested in being his friend. When he asked me to go to lunch today, I thought it would be a harmless thing.” To keep myself from mooning over you, dipshit. I already thanked my tongue for not going that far.

  He stopped. Didn’t turn around. For that matter, he barely moved. “But you knew he had a crush on you.”

  “I knew he—” I shoved to my feet now too, the wind crushed in my throat. “What are you saying? That I asked for this? You don’t even know the whole story yet, and you’re already blaming me?”

  I couldn’t believe that much had come out of me coherently. But damn it, I was hell-bent for leather on this. No way would I stand for him blaming me for that lunatic’s behavior.

  “Baby.” The way he whooshed it out was an apology in itself, and I allowed myself to breathe again. “I’m not blaming you—not in the slightest.” Though he’d turned to face me again, he stopped in his tracks for a second time. I could all but paint a lightbulb of comprehension in the air over his head. “And hold up. What do you mean, I don’t know the whole story? What aren’t you telling me? I told you I wouldn’t let you put walls up between us anymore.”

  I held up my hands. “And I’m not. But you need to calm down.”

  “I’m calm.”

  And the sun would rise tomorrow in the west instead of the east, but I wasn’t about to let him in on the insight.

  “Taylor? Hey.” He waited until I met his penetrating stare with my own. “This guy seems like a nutburger. You going to tell me what else happened?”

  The marketing honchos at Stone Global always harped at us with a key phrase. Show, don’t tell. Instinct told me that might be the best tack here, so I walked over to my kitchen counter and grabbed my cell. “Maybe it’s best that you just hear this,” I told him.

  I hit Play, letting John’s messages play out in their entirety. Their increasing yuck factor filled my tiny apartment, and I could feel the air around Mac getting colder and colder—until I began to wonder if he was invoking a new Ice Age, in a quiet and unsettling way.

  The last message had barely begun, but as soon as John waxed on about being inside me, Mac jabbed at the screen with a ferocity that made me jump. I looked down, bewildered he hadn’t cracked the device’s screen. He stood up and scrubbed a hand across his face and around to the back of his neck. I felt terrible. Surgery days were always long and trying for him, and it had been my intention to treat us both to an amazing, sex-filled night. Instead, we were dealing with this tangled mess.

  “I’ll deal with this guy. He won’t bother you again.” His words were a declaration. A statement of finality, not to be discussed further.

  “Mac. What are you going to do? You can’t beat him up.”

  “I won’t touch him. And what do you care what happens to him? Should we just sit here and think he’s a harmless guy until he corners you in a dark parking lot or behind some random building? Do I wait until he rapes you, Taylor?” His breathing was furious and rushed. His calm facade was faltering, dissolving. “Or fucking worse?”

  “Worse?”

  “I’ll handle it!” he barked, and I tried not to recoil. “It won’t be an issue again.”

  “Mac.” My own voice was small and timid in response. “You’re scaring me.”

  He cursed beneath his breath. Then lunged over, closing the space between us and hauling me against his chest. He held me there for a few minutes while we both worked to calm down. “I’m sorry,” he husked, pressing his lips into my hair. “I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just get fucking crazy, thinking of someone harming you.”

  “I know.” I stroked a hand across his hammering heartbeat. “I do know.”

  “I will never let anyone hurt you,” he vowed, his voice still trembling. “As long as I live, you will be safe with me.”

  “Thank you.”

  What else could I say? Though apparently, it was all I had to say—because the man broke out in a long, savoring chuckle that had me jerking back, peering harder for an explanation.

  “What?” he flung, addressing my frown. “No smart remark? No trading sass for intimacy? And hold the phones… Not one single clown reference?” He mellowed the laugh to a grin, trying to bring some levity to the very heavy air that had settled over the room—a
nd us.

  I helped him out—a little—by dealing a playful bop to his shoulder. “Hey. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf here.”

  Mac cupped my cheek, lifting my face for his soft kiss. “I can tell.”

  “I said trying,” I qualified. “I can’t say my bullshit still won’t sneak out, so don’t get too used to the emotionally healthy fun.”

  I smacked his arm again. This time, he caught my hand and swooped it up to his lips, smacking all of my knuckles. “I’d be sad to see it all go, actually.”

  I side-eyed him. “Hold up. Let me just grab my phone again so I can record this for posterity.”

  “Not necessary.” He turned my hands over, sweeping incredibly hot lips across the insides of my wrists. “I’ll say it anytime you want, baby.” Then he ran his thumb up the inside of one of my arms while following the same path on the other with his amazing, adoring lips. “I don’t want to change all your leaves, Taylor. I love your firecracker side as much as I love your quiet and thoughtful self.” He lifted his gaze, regarding me with that leonine side of him once again. “And oh yeah…that sexy, naughty side had better not go anywhere.” As I giggled, he stressed in a murmur, “I love all of you, woman.”

  So much for giggling. I was all sighs as he pressed in, kissing the tip of my nose and then pecking me quickly on the mouth. “Let’s get this food put away. Then…I want dessert.”

  “Oh, shit,” I blurted.

  “Hmmm? What is it?”

  “Dessert.” I blinked big, flirty eyes at him—already sensing where he was going with his suggestion. “I’m just not sure I have anything suitable here, Dr. Stone. Maybe there’s some ice cream?”

  He growled. Dragged my hand down to his stiffening cock and pressing that hot and hypnotizing length into my palm. “I’m not talking about ice cream, Miss Mathews.”

  If we were in a restaurant, I would’ve been screaming for the check.

  Instead, with my lust-driven breaths matching his, I curled a devious little smile full of kittenish intent—and used my advantageous leverage on his body to tug him out of the kitchen. “Why don’t we just leave the food right there?”

  Mac groaned, his crotch swelling against my palm, as we laced the fingers of our free hands on our way to the living room. “What food?”

  I pulled him down onto the ratty sofa he hated so much, though I was pretty sure the worn cushions could’ve been splintered boards and wouldn’t have mattered less to him. When I pressed him down, straddled his lap, and pulled my little sundress up to my hips to give him a quick peek at my panties, I knew I had won the debate.

  “I like the way you think.” His slow grin matched the slide of his hands traveling up my thighs.

  “I thought you might,” I answered before covering his mouth with mine.

  Chapter Six

  Mac

  I wasn’t exactly the brand-new guy at Scripps Green anymore, but I hadn’t had many chances to veer off my normal beaten path. The places I usually ventured in the hospital numbered in the single digits—which was why today felt like being behind the scenes on a movie-studio tour. Things didn’t look the way I’d expected, doubling the difficulty of my mission.

  But ohhh, I would succeed.

  Come hell or fucking high water, I was going to find the goddamned lab.

  Where that loser worked.

  Oh yes, John the whack job and I were going to have a nice little come-to-your-savior regarding his obsession with my girlfriend. Maybe not so little. And maybe I wasn’t going to save his ass for shit. But the gist was there, burning in my psyche, and I was ready to hand down the fire and brimstone.

  But at the moment, the savior had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Somehow, I’d ended up in the facility next door to the actual hospital, which turned out to be a test facility for all kinds of strange things. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know all exactly what.

  Eventually, I found a door that exited to the outside parking lot. I regained my bearings and decided to start all over again.

  That probably meant the front desk and actually talking to one of the senior volunteers. Every morning, after grabbing my caffeine from Ursula at the little cart, I strode right by the small station without as much as a glance in that direction. The cotton-swab-headed crowd that milled around it was there to help incoming patients find their way around the campus, not suction suture sites for me.

  But today was different.

  Today, I’d be Prince fucking Charming to whomever I had to, in whatever way I had to, just to find the right access to the asshole at the top of my fire-and-brimstone list.

  I straightened my jacket, straightened my shoulders until they were as square as a linebacker’s, and then plastered my finest, most charming grin onto my lips. Within a few seconds, I set my sights on one of the spritelier looking ladies at the wide counter.

  “Good morning, Dr. Stone. Can I help you? You look a bit…might I be bold and say…lost?” She had a mischievous grin, and I couldn’t help but think of Taylor. She was going to be a saucy little granny like this one day, wearing a little jewel angel on her collar but flashing a daring devil in her eyes. And I was going to be the dirty old man who fucked her to paradise every night.

  Oh yeah, I’d really just gone there.

  And I’d loved every second of the dream.

  The dream I swore to make a reality with her. Only her.

  I was more sure of it now than ever before. Somehow, we’d come through our crap and emerged in a brighter, better place. We’d reconfirmed it to each other for most of last night, lavishing each other’s bodies with attention and affection before falling asleep in her nest on the floor until the alarm went off this morning, blessedly late. I had surgery rotation today but didn’t have to scrub in until nine.

  “Actually, I am a bit turned around.” I added a new smile to my sheepish tone, and she ate the shit up with a fork and spoon. “But only if you have a minute?”

  “Well, that is what I’m here for.” She waggled her brows, and I swam in confusion for a minute. Aside from my mother, I didn’t interact with older people who weren’t patients of mine. Was she being friendly or flirty? Where was the damn line?

  Soldiering on was probably the best option. “I’m sorry.” I injected what I hoped looked like an embarrassed smile. “I didn’t catch your name?”

  “It’s Helen.” A more robust brow wiggle. “And aren’t you just as charming as you are handsome?”

  I think I may have actually blushed. Fuck. I mean, fudge. That was the proper stand-in word, right? Oh, fuck it. I was so out of my element, there was no salvaging the effort. “Well, uh, thank you, Helen. I’m simply looking for the lab. In-patient, I think. To be honest, I’m looking for an employee who works there.”

  “Oh? Hmmm.” She strolled over to a simple computer and started typing in her login. When the hunt-and-peck session was done and the screen flickered to life, she looked up at me expectantly.

  Holy shit. Was it going to be this easy?

  Just to be safe, I cocked my head, cranking up the feigned aw-shucks stuff. I’d likely have to take three showers after this, but it’d be worth it.

  Taylor, and her safety, were worth everything. “I…umm…only know the guy’s first name,” I admitted. “It’s John. I only know he works in the lab. We ended up playing a pickup game the other day at the gym, and he left his, uh, sunglasses—yeah, his sunglasses—behind.” Yet another beam of the charm. “I just wanted to return them to him.”

  “Well, that’s awfully nice of you. Too bad your gym didn’t just have a lost and found.” Was this her way of letting me know she didn’t believe a word I was saying? Or was that my guilty conscience talking?

  “I…well…just wanted to be a pal, you know? Do right by a buddy.”

  After deliberately working in the Captain America speech, I went for it. The full wattage, slay-the-ladies-every-time smile. Sure enough, Helen blushed all the way to her stylish white hairline.

  “Well, l
et’s just see what we can find. I’ll do a search by the laboratory department and the first name John, and we’ll go from there.”

  I went around the desk and leaned over her shoulder while she tapped on the keyboard. Seven Johns appeared in the search for the lab department, and five of those seven worked in the same division, so I asked her how I got to that area of the hospital.

  “You’ve been so helpful, Helen.” With a gallant turn and then a knightly bow, I bent and brought the back of her hand to my lips. “I really appreciate you taking the extra time this morning.”

  And there went that completely bad-girl gleam in her gaze again. “Anytime, Dr. Stone,” she drawled, making it clear she probably had some wild child tattoos hidden beneath her prim blouse and slacks. “That’s precisely what we’re here for.” She smiled widely too, and her sweet features wrinkled even more.

  On my way to the area Helen had shown me on the directory map, I checked my phone for email. There were no issues that couldn’t wait, so I rode the elevator to the floor below the lobby.

  The doors parted.

  Jackpot.

  There was my favorite whack job in the whole wide world, entering my elevator car.

  Best of all, the fucker didn’t even notice me. John’s attention was buried in his phone, so all I had to do was wait until the doors slid shut and we started moving again. Calmly and steadily, I stepped over to the panel. Without any noise, I pressed the stop button.

  As soon as he looked up and noticed he and I were the only ones in the elevator, his jaw plummeted. His day was about to get really bad, and he knew it.

  “Good morning, asshole.” That was all I could muster in the way of a greeting.

  “Uhhh. Dr. Stone.” And then he blinked. Then again. “Wh-What can I do—”

  “Shut up.” I took a defined step toward him. The pussy physically shrank, backing up into the corner of the lift. “We need to have a little chat, John-Boy. Well, more like I’m going to tell you what’s on my mind, and you’re going to listen.”