by Cate Beauman
“I won’t.”
“But if you do—”
“I won’t, Soph.”
She nodded remembering a similar conversation the night he asked her to marry him. “Okay. I’ll try to find something action-packed on TV.”
“Sounds perfect.”
~~~~
Stone set the last of the fixings Janice had brought by on the small table he’d made out of a piece of plywood and some two-by-fours. He put the napkins down, placing the silverware on top to keep the paper from blowing away in the wind, and stepped back, examining the bowls of fried chicken, potato salad, cantaloupe and watermelon balls, and plate of brownies for the makeshift picnic he’d put together on the fly. Nodding his approval, he lit the wood in the fire pit and sat down in the reclining lawn chair, adjusting the back for Sophie, making certain her view of the water in the distance would be nothing short of spectacular. “Awesome,” he muttered. Good food, fireworks, and the ocean waves Sophie loved so much—the makings for a perfect evening for two.
And tonight would be perfect.
He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, remembering the conversation he and Sophie had in the guest bedroom just a few minutes ago. She thought he was interested in Amber. When Abby brought up the stupid idea at the office last night, he hadn’t realized Sophie was the one who believed it. Ethan’s former temp was hot and nice enough, but she wasn’t Sophie, the only woman he wanted.
Sophie’s abrupt departure was starting to make sense. More than once she’d told him she left to give him back his life. Apparently she thought she needed to move out of the way for Amber. And he couldn’t necessarily blame her. He’d ignored Sophie at Ethan’s party to talk ball with Amber, then the night at Smitty’s when they won the pool game clearly left the wrong impression. Tonight he planned to set the record straight…subtly. He got to his feet, looking at Murphy konked out on the blanket from the meds the vet had given them to keep the puppy comfortable for the next couple of days, and walked inside through the French doors he’d installed in the kitchen. “Soph.”
She struggled to sit up. “Yes? Do you need help?”
“Nope, but I want you to come with me.” He took her hand, helping her to her feet, grabbing the pillow she’d been resting her head on.
“Come with you where?”
“You’ll see.” He snagged the flip-flops she’d forgotten in her rush to be gone all those nights ago. “Here. Put these on.” He slipped one shoe on her foot then the next.
“Stone, what are we doing?”
“Enjoying the Fourth of July. Come on.” He took her hand, leading her outside.
“Wow.” She smiled. “This looks so nice.”
“We can eat and watch the fireworks if you want. They light them off on a barge not too far from here.”
Her smile turned into a grin. “That sounds great.”
He let loose a small sigh of relief. “Good. Let’s get you settled on the chair.”
She hesitated. “There’s only one. What about you?”
“That’s what the blanket’s for.” He carefully hooked his arm under her armpits, taking the brunt of her weight as he helped ease her down in the seat. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.”
He settled the pillow behind her head. “You good?”
She nodded.
“So, do you want a little bit of everything? I didn’t heat up the chicken. I guess it’s good cold too.”
“Cold friend chicken is delicious.”
“All right then.” He heaped a leg, breast, potato salad, and fruit on her plate. “Is that enough?”
Her eyes went huge and she chuckled. “That’s more than plenty.”
“Too much?”
She shook her head slowly, looking at him the way she used to before everything changed. “It’s perfect.”
“Okay.” He put a fork on her plate and handed it over.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He filled his own plate and dug in, groaning as he took a bite of crispy chicken that had just a hint of spicy heat.
“Good?”
“Delicious. Try.” He picked up the chicken leg on her plate and held it to her lips, noting her struggle to balance her plate in her lap and eat.
She took a bite and rolled her eyes. “Mmm. Yum.” She smiled, her lips shiny from the grease.
He grinned, relaxed in a way he hadn’t been in too long. “You want more?”
“I can do it.” She took the chicken piece from his hand, helping herself to a huge bite. “See?”
He chuckled. “I guess you showed me. Do you want your drink?”
She shook her head, still chewing.
“How about ice? Do you need another icepack for your ribs?”
“I need for you to eat your dinner and stop fussing over me.” She reached out, touching his cheek.
“This is round-the-clock care, Soph. Your wish is my command.”
“Such a good nurse.” She grinned. “Maybe you could get me one of those bells.”
He chuckled, loving that everything seemed right again. “I don’t think so.”
“I love the sound of the water,” she sighed, staring out in the distance.
“It’s nice.”
The minutes passed in comfortable silence while they both ate their meals.
“I didn’t realize I was so hungry.” She wiped her hands and mouth on a napkin, “But now I’m stuffed.”
“No brownie?”
She gave him a pained look. “Only if I want to be sick.” A loud pop echoed in the air and she jumped, then laughed as the sky lit up with bright white sparkles. “I guess it’s time for the fireworks.”
“Here, let me have your plate.” He set both on the table and moved closer to her side, leaning back on his hands as another burst of color filled the night.
“You look uncomfortable.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“I can make room for you if you want.”
She was offering to share. He wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to be close to her. “Only if you’re sure.”
“Of course.” She sat up, scooting forward carefully.
He snuck in behind her, settling her between his legs. “Here, lean back.”
She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and he closed his eyes, savoring Sophie’s warm body snuggled against him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking such good care of me. This would be pretty awful if you weren’t helping me.”
“I’m happy to. I like taking care of you, Soph.” He kissed her temple, wanting to wrap his arms around her, but took her hand instead, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles, watching the sky light up again and again as the breeze played with her hair, tickling his chest.
“This is a perfect way to spend the Fourth of July.”
“Maybe next year we could give this a try without broken arms and bruised ribs.”
She chuckled. “That would be nice.”
He thought of her accident, knowing Eric was behind the whole thing, even though Ethan had yet to call him back with any new details. There were questions to be asked. Sophie had the answers he needed, but they would have to wait until tomorrow. Nothing was going to mess this up.
A large spray of fireworks, one after another, burst into life in a riot of colors as cheers erupted on the beach a hundred yards away. “I guess that’s the end,” he said.
“I guess so.”
“Are you ready to go back in?”
She shook her head. “I miss this view. I don’t think there’s better for miles around. It breaks my heart to think you won’t be here to enjoy it.”
He couldn’t stand the idea of staying here without her. He grunted, not willing to say anything else about the matter.
“Do you mind if we sit here for a while?”
The fire cast an orange glow against her soft skin as he held the woman he loved while the ocean waves crashed in the distance
. “We can stay for as long as you like.”
She settled her hand on top of his, and he laced their fingers, holding his breath, afraid he’d gone too far, but she didn’t protest or pull away. He stared out into the night until the fire burnt down to embers, knowing Sophie had fallen asleep long ago. His cell phone rang, bursting his bubble of contentment. He answered before the first ring finished, not wanting to wake her. “Hello,” he said quietly.
“Hey, Stone, it’s Tucker.”
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Ethan contacted me earlier today about Sophie’s brakes. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you.”
“It’s fine.”
“My buddy Detective Owens and I went down and took a look at Sophie’s car before Wren and I headed over to Ethan and Sarah’s.”
“And?”
“Well, the car’s a damn mess for starters. It took us a little while to make heads or tails out of what was what, but when we finally got in there we noticed a small tear in the line—must’ve created a slow leak.”
His stomach roiled as he thought of how lucky Sophie was to be alive.
“Looks like wear and tear.”
“Bullshit,” he said, wincing, lowering his voice again. “I changed those lines not even a month ago. They’re brand new. Eric Winthrop is behind Sophie’s accident. Where the hell is he?”
“It’s definitely not out of the question.”
“Of course it’s not. He’s been messing with her for weeks—years. She filed for a restraining order, and then all hell breaks loose.”
“I told Owens about the restraining order. He’ looking into the situation closely, but he and Ethan have both confirmed Winthrop’s in Bangor.”
“You and I both know that doesn’t mean jack shit.”
“We all do. Owens was going to have Bangor PD bring Winthrop in for questioning.”
“Good.”
“I’ll have Owens get back to you with anything they find out.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Bye.” Sighing he put away his phone. Eric was in Maine, but Sophie’s brakes had been tampered with. If Eric didn’t screw with the lines himself, he’d paid someone to. He glanced around in the dark surrounding them, not liking where this was going. He eased his way out from behind Sophie and picked her up, careful not to jar her ribs.
She opened her sleepy eyes. “Stone?”
“Shh. It’s time for bed.” He kissed her forehead.
“Okay.” She closed her eyes again, snuggling her head on his shoulder.
He walked inside. “Come on, Murph.”
Murphy followed.
He locked the door, scrutinizing the dark once again. Maybe pulling his gun from the lockbox wasn’t such a bad idea.
~~~~
Eric opened his front door with a frown, looking at Clyde and Joe Burlington standing illuminated in the porch light. “Hello.”
“Hi, Eric.” Clyde shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, I hate to say it, but we’re here on official business. We’re going to need you to come down to the station with us.”
“What the hell for?” But he already knew, and now Dylan Matthers was going to have to die.
“We have some questions we need to ask you.”
He opened the door wider, ready to appeal to Clyde’s deep sense of loyalty. “Come on in and ask them here. I’ll pour you a drink or make you some coffee.”
Clyde shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t. You’ll need to come with us.”
“What’s this about?”
“The Los Angeles Police Department wanted us to bring you in and ask you a few questions about Sophie.”
His heart kicked up to a wild beat. “Sophie?”
“She was in a pretty bad accident yesterday.”
“Is she all right?”
“They say she is, but there were some problems with her car.”
He struggled to bury the fear. Dylan Matthers was one thing, Sophie’s accident and the LAPD another. How the hell had they tied the accident back to him? “I don’t understand.” He didn’t bother to disguise the tremor in his voice. “Sophie has an accident and somehow I’m responsible?”
“It doesn’t make much sense to me either.” Clyde gave Eric’s shoulder a solid pat of support. “Let’s go get these questions out of the way, so we can get this off your plate.”
“I need to call my attorney. First she accuses me of hitting her, and now murder? When is this going to stop?”
“We had no idea Sophie had it in her. We’ll call Paul for you down at the station. Come on now.”
“Okay.” He stepped outside with Clyde and Joe, turning to lock the door, his hands shaking with waves of terror and fury as he twisted and pulled the key free. His “friend” had better call soon with good news. Sophie was ruining his life.
Chapter Thirty-four
Sophie opened her eyes to the bright sunshine, staring out the window at the palm trees blowing in the ever-present ocean winds. She’d slept like a rock after spending the majority of the evening in the fresh air. Smiling, she remembered Stone’s surprise Fourth of July picnic. He’d been so sweet to make their night on the cliffs special. She’d never enjoyed fireworks more with her head resting against his firm chest while they held hands in the dark.
She rolled to her back, letting out a small gasp of pain. She’d somehow ended up slightly on her side. Turning her head, she flinched, not expecting to see Stone lying next to her. She vaguely remembered him carrying her in from the lounge chair, laying her in the bed, and kissing her forehead as he covered her up. Then she’d fallen back into a deep sleep.
Her gaze traveled over his muscled shoulders and arms, his toned waist and black boxers uncovered. They’d woken together like this so many times, except he usually tucked her close in his arms and kissed her shoulder when he said good morning.
He stirred, opening his eyes, looking into hers. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough with sleep and muffled by the pillow.
“Hi.”
He repositioned his head. “How are your ribs?”
“They’re okay.” She stretched some, taking her required deep breaths, finding the pain bearable. “I feel like my mobility might be a bit better.”
“That’s good considering you fell asleep before we could get another pill in you.” Yawning, he scooted closer, the warm skin of his stomach and chest pressing against her side as he rested his cheek on his hand, leaning on his elbow. “Do you want breakfast?” He slid his fingers along her ribcage, sending a rush of heat to her center with his teasing movements.
She needed to tell him to stop; she couldn’t let him keep touching her like this, but she did nothing to move away, too weak with want for the man staring into her eyes. “Do you have any eggs?”
“If I do, they’re the same eggs that’ve been here since you left.”
She huffed out a laugh. “What have you been eating?”
“Stuff on the road mostly. I’ve been out of town more than I’ve been around, but when I am home Abby makes Jerrod bring me Tupperware containers with dinner in them.”
She grinned, shaking her head. “She spoils you.”
“You used to.”
She shook her head again, her smile dimming. She didn’t want to talk about “used to.” “Making us a meal wasn’t exactly five-star treatment.”
His fingers moved to trace circles around her belly button. “You’re a damn good cook, Soph.”
She swallowed, wanting to shove his hand lower so he could touch her the way he did so expertly and put her out of her misery. “Thank you,” she said, trying her best to focus on conversation instead of what Stone could be doing to her right here in this bed. “You should really take a couple of cooking classes. You have that beautiful new kitchen; it’s a shame you’re not using it.”
“I didn’t remodel the kitchen for me, Soph.”
“This is your house isn’t it?” She looked away, deliberately misu
nderstanding his meaning.
He took her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze back to his. “It was ours for a little while.”
But it wasn’t any more. She pulled his hand away, attempting to sit up. “I should probably get Murphy his breakfast.”
He rested his hand against her shoulder, holding her down. “I miss you, Soph. This place isn’t the same without you and Murphy.”
She shrugged away from his touch, no longer focused on her overactive libido. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“How about you miss me too.”
“I—I do you miss you.”
“So then why did you leave?”
She closed her eyes, sighing. “Because you have a right to your life.”
“There was nothing wrong with my life. I liked my life just the way it was.”
“Stone—” She rested her hand on his arm as her gaze wandered to the gun on the side table. “What are you doing with that?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Keeping it handy.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Why?”
He sat up. “I’ve been wanting to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Okay.” She used his arm to pull herself up as quickly as her injuries would allow.
“Abby told me you’ve been working with Jeremiah lately.”
“Yes,” she hesitated. This was never a good subject for them.
“You’ve filed suit against Eric and have a restraining order against him and the PI.”
“Yes,” she said again. “A temporary order.”
“Good for you, Soph.”
“Thanks.”
“Has Eric given you any more trouble since the stuff he pulled a couple weeks ago?”
“No. He hasn’t given me any more problems since David was arrested. He seems to have taken the hint—at least for now.”
He huffed out a deep breath. “Maybe not.”
Her brows furrowed again. “What do you mean?”
“Soph,” he took her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers in the way that always sent tingles rushing to her stomach. “Your accident… I don’t think it was an accident.”
