The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  Chad laughs, looking me over again. “That I’m not.” He motions to the front door. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Sure,” I say, grabbing my coat from the closet. Chad takes it from me and helps me put it on. “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Bye, sweetheart. I won’t wait up,” he says with a wink.

  I shoot my dad an angry glare. Then I don’t miss the smirk on Chad’s face. Once out the door, I tell him, “This isn’t a date, you know. Just one old friend helping out another.”

  “Not a date,” he repeats. “Got it.”

  We get to the car and I see the same guy who was here the other night. His bodyguard. He steps forward to open the back door, but Chad waves him off. “I got it,” he says. “Mallory Schaffer, I’d like you to meet Cole Wilcox.”

  Cole offers me his gargantuan-sized hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Schaffer,” he says in a baritone voice that matches his size.

  “It’s just Mallory,” I say, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Cole.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mallory.” He walks around to the driver’s side and gets in as Chad situates me in the back seat.

  Then, to my surprise, Chad walks around the car and joins me in the back rather than sitting up front with Cole. He smiles at my reaction. “Ethan is stoked to see you again,” he says.

  “I’m excited to see him, too.” He was several years older than me, so we didn’t hang out much, but Chad looked up to him and sometimes he would sneak us into R-rated movies.

  “He’s married now. Has a kid and everything,” he says. “He’s happy.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that. He deserves to be happy after everything he went through.” I shudder remembering the funeral of a girl taken far too soon and how much it wrecked Ethan.

  “Kyle will be there, too,” he says.

  “Really? Did he come with you for a visit?” I ask, wondering what it will be like to see the three of them together again after all this time.

  “He lives here. He moved back to go to college and now he goes to med school at NYU.”

  My jaw drops. “Kyle is going to be a doctor?” I ask. “Kyle—the kid who threw up at the sight of my blood when I fell off my bike and ripped my arm open?”

  Chad laughs, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “I had forgotten all about that. We teased him for months,” he says. “Ethan and I would taunt him every time we got so much as a scrape.” He turns on the backseat light, nodding to my right arm. “Can you still see the scar?”

  I push up my sleeve and hold my arm out so he can see the long, curvy, faded scar. He holds my arm up to the light as tingles race through me from his touch. He examines it from several angles. He traces the scar with his finger, making me catch my breath as the tiny hairs on my arm stand at attention. “I can still see the faint lines where some of the stitches were. Nine, right?”

  My eyes shoot to his, surprised that he’d remember something that happened when I was eleven years old. “That’s right. What about you?” I motion to his foot. “You had me beat with your thirteen stitches. Can you still see yours?”

  He puts down my arm and removes his left shoe and sock, showing me the jagged scar that was the result of a shoeless skateboard accident. I stare at his faded scar, longing to reach out and touch the soft skin on the top of his foot. What is so darn sexy about men’s feet?

  “Interesting, don’t you think?” he asks, putting his shoe back on.

  “What’s interesting?”

  “How we both remembered exactly how many stitches the other had.”

  I shrug. “Well, it was kind of traumatic for us. I mean, you were only nine when you had your accident.”

  “That’s right, I was. And you were eleven when you had yours,” he says smiling. “And I remember asking my mother if you could go with me to get stitches because I knew if you were there it wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “That’s why you wanted me to go with you?” I ask. “I thought you needed me to tell the doctors what happened.”

  “Nah.” He shakes his head. “I just wanted you there with me. I always wanted you there.”

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable with how he’s looking at me, I change the subject back to Kyle. “So who’s Kyle bringing tonight?” I ask. “Is he married, too?”

  Chad snorts. “Married to his job, maybe. As a fourth-year med student, he pretty much spends all of his time at the hospital.”

  “But you said everyone going tonight was bringing someone.”

  “Shit,” he says, looking guilty. “I guess you got me there. I may have embellished the truth a bit. But in my defense, there will be three other guys and three other girls there, so I didn’t want to be the odd man out.”

  “So who’s the girl you paired with Kyle?”

  “My publicist, Kendra. She’s great. You’ll love her. In fact, I think you’ll get along with all the women there.”

  Rather than be pissed that he lied to me, I’m relieved that not everyone else there is part of a couple. Makes this whole ‘not a date’ thing more plausible. “Who else is going?” I ask.

  “Ethan’s wife’s best friend and her husband.”

  The car comes to a stop and Cole gets out to open my door. Chad exits the car behind me. “We’ll be several hours, Cole. Go get yourself some dinner and I’ll text you when we’re ready.”

  I look up at the tall building on a very nice street in Midtown as the car pulls away from the curb. “Cole doesn’t need to come in with you?” I ask.

  “We’re good. The building has security,” he says. Then a group of girls passing by see Chad and start screaming.

  They run up to him, completely ignoring my presence. “Thad! Thad! Oh, my God. I heard you were in New York.”

  “Can I get a picture, Thad? I love you!”

  “Oh my God! Thad Stone! Can you sign this?” one says, shoving a piece of paper at him.

  A few more people hear the screams of the girls and stop to see what’s going on. In a matter of ten seconds, a small crowd has gathered, all wanting a piece of him.

  He turns to me, guilt on his face. “I’ll just be a minute,” he says, motioning to the door of the building. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  The doorman lets me inside and I turn to watch Chad spend the next few minutes posing for pictures and signing autographs. He smiles at them, but it’s not authentic. It’s strained. Not like the smile I remember when we were kids. Not like how he looked at me when he saw me tonight. More people come up the sidewalk and he quickly ducks into the building, looking a bit frazzled.

  “Can you take care of that?” Chad asks the doorman.

  “No problem, Mr. Stone,” he says, going out to disband the crowd.

  I motion to the growing crowd. “Looks like you may need Cole after all.”

  “I can’t even walk from the fucking curb to a building anymore? It’s getting goddamn ridiculous.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I didn’t mean to blow you off out there. I just didn’t want anyone bothering you or taking your picture.”

  “It’s perfectly fine, Chad. I understand. And I think it’s nice that you took the time to do what you did for your fans. A lot of actors would have just ignored them.”

  He laughs. “A lot of actors aren’t as stupid as I am.”

  “Not stupid,” I tell him. “Just kind.”

  “Come on, let’s go up before anyone tries to come in after us.” He leads me to the elevator and presses the button for the penthouse.

  I look at him with inquisitive eyes. “The penthouse?” I ask. “Did Ethan win the lottery or something?”

  “If you call my grandparents dying and leaving us all their money winning the lottery, then yes.”

  My hand comes to cover my mouth. “Oh, Chad, your Pap and Nana died? I’m so sorry.” I remember them fondly. We would often go out to their house in The Hamptons in the summer. They had a fantastic pool that had a separate pool house. We would pretend it was our house and we were a king and queen. When Julian woul
d come, they would take turns being the prince.

  “Thanks,” he says. “It’s been about six years now.”

  “I wish I would have known, I’d like to have attended their funerals.”

  He nods. “I’m sorry, I know you would have. My parents asked if I wanted to call you. But I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Pap died first,” he says, hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “It was about a year after you stopped talking to me. My life was a mess. I couldn’t get through the day without drugs. I didn’t want you seeing me like that. I knew I had become a disappointment to you.”

  “Why would you think that?” I ask, knowing it’s true but finding it surprising he’d thought it.

  “Because you stopped taking my calls. You stopped emailing me. You cut me off all social media.” He shakes his head and sighs. “And because when your mom died and I didn’t come back for her funeral, Julian tore me a new one, telling me how much you hated what I’d become. It’s true, right? That you hated me?”

  I take a step back and lean against the elevator wall. “I wouldn’t say I hated you. I just missed my friend, Chad. He was gone and it made me sad.”

  Chad pushes himself off the wall and cages me in, his hands on either side of my face. “I’m so sorry,” he says, staring intensely into my eyes. “You’ll never know just how much. But I’m me again. I’m Chad. That other selfish prick is gone.”

  The elevator doors open and he backs away, allowing me to breathe again. He helps me off with my coat when we reach the penthouse door.

  When we walk through, Ethan comes over, ignoring Chad as he pulls me in for a huge hug. “Little Mallory Schaffer,” he says, releasing me to look me over. “You look wonderful. It’s so nice to see you again.”

  “You too, Ethan. Thank you for having me.” My eyes quickly take in the massive great room lined by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “Hey, can I borrow a hundred-dollar bill to scrape the gum off my shoe that I stepped on in that deplorable contraption you call an elevator? I mean, seriously, this building should be condemned.”

  “You always were a smartass, Schaffer. I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed.” He takes my elbow and escorts me into the kitchen. “Mallory, this is my wife, Charlie.”

  She looks familiar. About my age, maybe a bit younger. I wonder if we went to college together. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

  I extend my hand to her but she hugs me. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you this week.”

  She has? “You have?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she says, nodding. “My brother-in-law here has you on a pretty high pedestal.”

  Ethan clears his throat. “You’ll have to excuse my wife and her unfiltered mouth.”

  Charlie swats him. “You love my mouth,” she says.

  He pulls her in for a kiss. “Very true. Must be that Stone men love smartass women.”

  “Must be,” she says, her striking red hair flowing around her shoulders.

  Pedestal? Stone men love smartass women? Am I missing something here?

  I can’t get over the feeling I know Charlie from somewhere. “You look so familiar; did you go to Berkeley?”

  “Nope, I skipped college and went straight to life,” she says.

  “Charlie’s mom was Caroline Anthony,” Ethan says. “Caroline was an actress and Charlie looks a lot like her, that’s probably why she looks familiar.” The way he says it is like he’s said it a thousand times before, matter-of-factly, but in a protective kind of way.

  Oh, geez. She’s Caroline Anthony’s daughter? Charlie looks a bit perturbed by the mention of her mother, so I don’t ask her about it. Maybe she feels the same way I did when Melissa was bombarding me with questions about Chad.

  “Mallory, this is my best friend, Piper Mitchell,” Charlie says, indicating the woman sitting at the bar. “And this is her fiancé, Mason Lawrence.”

  I look at the stunning couple, immediately recognizing Mason as a professional football player. What, is everyone here famous or uber-freaking-rich? Suddenly I feel very insignificant. And very out of place. “Uh, hello. Nice to meet you.” I shake Piper’s hand and then Mason’s. “My dad is a huge fan,” I say with a shaky voice. “He will be beside himself when I tell him I had dinner with you.” I feel a little faint and quickly take a seat on the couch as everyone falls into comfortable conversation.

  Chad sits next to me on the end of the couch. “Are you okay, Mal? You look a little pale. Can I get you something?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll be okay,” I whisper so only he can hear. “I mean, as if you being a movie star isn’t enough, but now—this penthouse, the daughter of an Oscar-winning actress, a guy who plays football for the Giants? I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed, that’s all. And way out of my league.”

  “We’re all just regular people like you, Mal,” he says.

  I look at him like he’s gone off his rocker. “Right,” I say. “Just ask those girls downstairs, or the hundreds of people that swarmed you at the club the other night.”

  “That’s just part of the job,” he says. “It’s not who we are. We want to get together and have a good time with our friends, just like everyone else. That’s all this is, a good time with friends. Okay?”

  I look around at everyone. I guess he’s right. Watching them talk and drink and laugh, they do all seem fairly normal despite the fact that the collective wealth in this room could eliminate a big chunk of the national debt.

  I see a woman come down the hallway with a baby in her arms. She walks up to Charlie. “He’s all clean. Thanks for letting me change him,” she says.

  “Are you kidding?” Charlie hands the woman a drink, leaning down to kiss the baby. “You can have that job whenever you’d like. You’re a lifesaver.”

  Chad stands up and holds his hand out to me. I let him pull me up off the couch. He walks us over to the woman, not letting go of my hand. It reminds me of the times he held my hand when we were young. Only with more sparks now. “Mallory, this is my publicist, Kendra.”

  “Hi, Mallory,” she says, smiling at our entwined hands. “Sorry, I’d give you a hug, but my hands are kind of full.”

  “Here, let me,” Chad says, taking the baby from her. I’m surprised at the emptiness I feel when he pulls his hand from mine.

  Kendra gives me a hug. “So, you’re the one,” she whispers in my ear.

  I have the feeling tonight is some elaborate hoax that everyone is in on but me. Maybe I’m being punk’d. I look at Kendra as she releases me and she gives me this incredible, ear-to-ear smile. “Doesn’t he look like a natural?” she asks, motioning to Chad.

  “I think Eli has my nose,” he says, admiring the tiny baby in his arms.

  “Eli has my nose,” Ethan shouts from the kitchen.

  The front door slams shut. “You’re both crazy, he has my nose. And he’s damn lucky because you two have beaks that belong on pelicans.”

  “Kyle!” I race over to hug the youngest Stone brother. “Oh my gosh, I’ve missed you.”

  “Hi, Mallory.” He holds me at arm’s length, looking me over from head to toe. “Jesus, you look incredible. I never had a teacher as hot as you in fourth grade, that’s for damn sure.”

  I’m surprised he knows I teach fourth grade. But before I can ask, Chad comes up beside me, draping a possessive arm over my shoulder. “Go get your own hot teacher,” he says. “This one’s mine.” He leans down to place a kiss on the top of my head, causing goosebumps to line my arms.

  Mine? He wants me to be his? His what—friend, one-night-stand, New York booty-call?

  “Dinner’s ready,” Charlie calls from the kitchen.

  I extract myself from Chad, happy to have an excuse to get away from him for a minute so I can breathe again. Piper, Kendra and I help Charlie carry plates of food from the kitchen to the dining room.

  Dinner is surreal. I hear all about what professional football players do in
the off-season. Ethan and Charlie entertain us with tales of some of the strangest cases they’ve had at their P.I. agency. Kendra regales us with stories of her most diva-like clients—minus the names, of course. She is their publicist after all. And Kyle grosses us out by telling us about the latest cadaver he got to dissect. My tales of teaching don’t even begin to hold a candle to the rest of the dinnertime chatter.

  “What about you?” I ask Chad. “Do you have any funny stories to tell?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. My life is hardly interesting.”

  Chad gets pelted with rolls thrown by his brothers. He takes one and rips at it with his teeth, throwing it back to Ethan and then does the same to Kyle.

  “Do not have a food fight in my house, boys,” Charlie says with the conviction of a tried-and-true mother. “Play nice or I’ll cut you off.” She stands up and retrieves a bottle of wine, making her way around the table to refill all the glasses. Chad puts his hand over his glass and waves her by.

  Is he doing that just for me, because he told me the other night he doesn’t drink much? Or has he really changed his ways? He’s only had one glass tonight when everyone else has had at least three. But then, who’s counting?

  I should quit analyzing everything about him. Every look he gives me with those ocean-blue eyes. Every chair he pulls out for me. Every flutter of my heart when he touches me innocently.

  He’s so much like the boy I remember. At my house. At the school. Tonight. He’s nothing like the movie star the press makes him out to be. Nothing like the womanizing drug-head I thought he was. In fact, he’s the kind of man I could see myself with. Then again, he is an actor. By profession, he lies to people, getting them to believe he’s something that he’s not.

  Kendra slurs her words ever so slightly when she asks, “I want to hear about the missing ball.”

  All eyes at the table turn to her. “The what?” Ethan asks.

  “It’s been driving me crazy for a few days,” she says. “I dug into it and there are some records of hospital employees violating HIPPA laws by talking about your case, so what I want to know is” —she looks at Chad— “and please don’t fire me for this, but how in the hell did you lose a testicle at the Santa Monica Pier?”