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

by Samantha Christy

  “Holy shit, Mal,” he says, finding my eyes once again. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you are right now.”

  I don’t even know what to say. And I couldn’t say it even if I did. He’s rendered me speechless once again. I tug my lower lip into my mouth.

  His eyes close briefly. “Oh, God. I was wrong.” He reaches over to touch my lips. “This is even better.” He shakes his head as if intentionally ridding it of wayward thoughts. He runs his hands through his hair as he backs up out of the doorway, putting him on the other side of the threshold. “We’d better leave now if I want to keep my gentlemanly status.”

  I laugh, grabbing my coat. He helps me put it on after I lock the front door. I pull it tightly around me. It’s brisk tonight on this late-February evening.

  As we walk down the sidewalk towards the waiting car, Chad nods at the basketball in the bushes. “I wonder what we could play HORSE for next?” Then his blue eyes take hold of my green ones.

  Oh. My. God. Shivers run down my spine. And not because of the freezing temperature.

  I’m going on a date with Chad Stone.

  He opens the door for me and I slide over on the black leather seat to let him get in beside me. Before I can settle myself into the seat by the window, he captures my hand, keeping me in the middle seat as he entwines our fingers.

  I’m holding hands with Chad Stone.

  With his other hand, he reaches across me and pulls the seatbelt over my body, all the while I’m smelling him and it reminds me of his movie that I watched the other night. I open my eyes to see his face mere inches from mine as he clasps me in. The brilliant smile on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

  I’m being strapped in by Chad Stone.

  I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He sits back in his seat and puts on his seatbelt one-handedly, all the while, the aforementioned smile still glued to his face as if he’s doing a toothpaste commercial.

  “Hello again, Mallory,” Cole says from the front. “Nice to see you.”

  “You too, Cole. Thanks for keeping the car warm.”

  “Of course. Are you all set?”

  “Ready,” Chad says.

  “So where are you taking me?” I’m a bit nervous. We haven’t yet talked about what will happen if we’re seen out together. Am I supposed to go into the building while he signs autographs, like at Ethan’s? What happens if people ask who I am? What am I supposed to say? What if they take pictures of us together? Has he cleared this with his publicist? His manager? Does he even have to do that?

  I realize there is still so much I don’t know about him and his lifestyle. I’m not sure I’m ready just yet to be thrown into it so unprepared.

  “Relax,” Chad says, squeezing my hand. He senses my tension. “I’m not taking you to the Golden Globes or anything. Not yet anyway. We’re going on a picnic.”

  I’m not sure which shocks me more, the fact that I may one day get to walk a red carpet with him or that it’s thirty degrees outside and he’s taking me on a picnic. I look down at my black dress—the one that barely covers my thighs. Even with my coat on, I’d still freeze to death. I scissor my stocking-covered legs to make a point. “Uh, I wish you had said something.”

  He laughs. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ve got it covered. Hey, how was your dinner with Charlie last night?”

  Ethan’s wife, Charlie, accompanied me last night during my shift at Hope. Then we went to dinner. What happened there was surreal, but I gather it’s only a taste of what I’m in for if Chad and I stay together. “It was great. I really like Charlie a lot. We’ve already made plans to go shopping this weekend.”

  He smiles again. He’s glad I’m making friends with his inner circle.

  “Did you know what she was going to do?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The donation,” I say.

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Charlie made a donation?”

  He didn’t know. Somehow that makes me happy. “Donation is an understatement,” I say. “More like a miracle. She wrote a check for a million dollars, Chad.” I shake my head remembering how she nonchalantly handed it over to me like she was paying a thirty-dollar dinner tab. “Who does that? After only one visit?”

  “Well, her mom died last year, leaving her quite a bit of money. And it’s no secret she and Ethan are well off. He told me a few months ago she was looking for a good cause—I guess she found it. You must have impressed her the other night, Mal. She’s been researching the charity ever since. She grilled me for information, but I wasn’t much help. So, what made you get involved with that particular organization?”

  “Uh . . . ” I shift awkwardly in my seat. “Well, a lot of things I guess. Do you remember Penny Garrison? She was in my grade.”

  “Yeah. Blonde hair. Big . . . teeth.” He winks at me. “Slutty.”

  I nod. That’s how most people remember her.

  “She got pregnant after you left. Senior year.”

  He snaps his head to me, looking surprised. “She did?”

  “Yeah. And her parents kicked her out. She literally had nowhere to go. No friends. No relatives. She would have been out on the street if it weren’t for Hope For Life.”

  “And you were always helping people, so when you found out about it . . . Makes sense; I always knew you’d end up doing something like that.”

  “It’s not much,” I tell him. “I only volunteer one night a week. It’s not like I gave them a million dollars or anything.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Mal. You give your time. That is incredibly valuable. If it weren’t for people like you, organizations like that couldn’t exist.” He squeezes my hand. “My girlfriend—teacher of the year, philanthropist . . . Are there any other hidden talents you have that I should know about?”

  I blush in the darkness at his insinuation. I shake my head. “I still can’t get used to it. You calling me your girlfriend.”

  “Well, get used to it, Mal. Because it’s true. But the world might have to wait a little longer to find out about it.”

  I can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes me when he says that.

  He laughs at the relief rolling off me in waves. “Tell me how you really feel, Mal.” He shifts in his seat so that he’s facing me. “Listen, I know this will be an adjustment for you. For me, too, believe it or not. So let’s just try to keep it to ourselves for a while. I just got you back. I don’t want to share you with anyone quite yet.”

  “That sounds good to me,” I tell him. “More than good.”

  “We’re here,” Cole announces from the front seat. He parks the car, but keeps it running, talking to a man outside who trades places with him in the driver’s seat as we exit the back.

  When I see where we are, I’m confused. He wasn’t kidding. We really are going on a picnic. He’s brought me to Central Park. I look down at my clothes again. “Uh . . .”

  Chad holds his hand out to me. “Trust me, Mallory.”

  I take his hand and we follow Cole through the winding sidewalks of the park. I’m glad it hasn’t snowed recently or I’d be sloshing through it in my brand new heels. It’s already dark out. That’s probably the only reason why Chad hasn’t been mobbed yet.

  We don’t walk far, maybe a few blocks, when we come upon a large tent. It’s completely enclosed on all four sides, its white fabric walls illuminated from the inside. A beautiful woman sees us coming and hurries to carry a few more items inside the tent. She emerges a minute later and greets us. “Mr. Stone, nice to see you again. Everything has been set up as requested.” She hands him her card, pointing to the phone number on it. “If you need anything, I have a team waiting in the catering van just outside the park. Just text me at this number. Anything you need.”

  I take a peek at the card. It reads: Mitchell’s NYC Catering.

  “Thanks, Skylar. My friends call me Chad.” He motions to me. “And this is Mallory Schaffer.”
<
br />   Skylar shakes my hand. “It’s really nice to meet you. Charlie told me all about you.” She hands me one of her cards as well. “We do girls’ night a few times a month and it would be great if you’d join us. Give me a call sometime.”

  “Uh, okay. Thanks.” I slip her card in my purse. Does Chad know everyone in this city?

  As she walks away, Chad explains, “Skylar is Piper’s sister. You remember Piper Mitchell from Ethan’s dinner? Skylar manages Mitchell’s. Best restaurant in the city. I met her last fall and ever since, I haven’t missed a chance to dine there when I’m in town. She insisted on being here herself instead of appointing one of her catering managers. They have another sister, too, Baylor. Charlie practically grew up with them. Great bunch of girls. You should go to girls’ night. Take Melissa.”

  I shrug. It would be nice to get to know some of the people in Chad’s life. “Maybe I will.”

  Cole sets up outside the front of the tent, putting a large thermos of coffee on a table next to his chair.

  Chad holds the fabric door for me and I walk through, surprised to be met with a wave of heat. I look around and see what he’s done. There are a few of those tall propane heaters scattered throughout the tent enclosure. At one end of the tent there is a couch and coffee table with a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. In the center, a well-appointed dining table for two. Strings of white lights like tiny Christmas lights line the entire ceiling, and ornate candles illuminate the dining and coffee tables. Off to the far end, there is what appears to be a smaller tent-within-a-tent. I question him with my eyes.

  “Port-o-potty,” he says. “Damn nice one. Toilet flushes and everything, you should check it out.”

  I can’t help myself, I walk over and peek into it. It’s nicer than my bathroom at home. I laugh at the absurdness of it all. I feel like I’ve walked into someone else’s life. Part of me wants to chastise him for spending so much money, but I know it’s not just for me. It’s for him, too. To keep what we have private. At least for now.

  “Can I interest you in a drink?” Chad asks, motioning to the couch.

  It’s so warm in here, I start to remove my coat on the way and he helps me, hanging it on a coat stand by the door. Who thinks of stuff like that? A coat rack inside a tent with a port-o-potty in the middle of Central Park?

  He pours me a full glass of bubbly, but only a half for himself. He raises his glass. “To new beginnings.”

  I smile, thinking of how my life may never be the same. I hope it won’t anyway. I hope I’ll never have to live another day without him in it. “To new beginnings,” I say, clinking my glass to his as one side of his mouth turns up in a sexy smile.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chad

  It’s a good thing we’re in the middle of Central Park where Cole or Skylar could walk in at any minute, because the way she looks in that dress, if we were at her house—or Ethan’s—all bets would be off.

  Those legs. She’s wearing pale black stockings and when I reach my hand over to hold hers, placing them to rest on her thigh, I swear I can feel the outline of a garter through the fabric of her dress. Fuuuuck me. She’s wearing garter belts.

  I try to think of something to get rid of my rising problem. “I’m going to need you to clear something up for me,” I say. “I need to know why you and Julian didn’t work out.”

  She looks around the room, stalling like she’s pondering what or how much to tell me.

  “Come on, Mal. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving you here with him—again. I know you are close and, yeah, it makes me jealous as hell, but I’ll deal with it because I have to trust you as I’m asking you to trust me. But I need to know. You said you wanted different things. What does that mean exactly?”

  She looks down at our entwined hands and nods. She blows out a deep sigh. “It means he wanted to screw his philosophy TA because I wouldn’t sleep with him, and it means I wanted to kill him because I wasn’t exactly okay with that.”

  “Oh, shit, Mal. He cheated on you?” Warring emotions are raging through my head. Part of me wants to beat him bloody for hurting her. The other part is happy he was such a douche and she ended things. “That’s a pretty low blow. How is it you’re still friends?”

  “It took a while,” she says. “I didn’t see him for three years after we broke up. But it wasn’t hard to avoid him, he was away at Penn State.”

  “You said you started dating after your mom died. So you were a junior and he was a senior?”

  “Yeah. It was right before summer break at the end of my junior year when we got together. But as soon as he went away to college, everything changed. We never should have dated. We were much better as friends.”

  “Why didn’t he go to Berkeley like we always said?”

  She gives me a sad smile. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Right,” I say. “Things change. So how did you end up friends again?”

  “Funny story, actually. Or maybe ironic,” she says. “Melissa and I were out at a club. She went up to the bar to get us some drinks. She came back mooning over some guy she met there who had just grabbed her out of nowhere and kissed her. Right there in the middle of the bar, some guy kissed a complete stranger. She invited him and his friends to sit with us. I about died when I saw it was Julian. He’d just graduated and was back in town interviewing for jobs. Apparently, he’d just gotten a great offer at Walters and Leeman and he was so excited, he started kissing random girls.” She smiles and I’m glad she can think about that time without being upset. “Once Mel realized who he was, she quit salivating over him. And it didn’t take long to realize we could still be friends; that we should have never tried to be anything more. That was three years ago.”

  Twice now she’s said something that resonates with me. “That’s not how you think of us, is it? That we’re better as friends?”

  “I’ve thought about that a lot over the past week,” she admits. “Back then, when it was the three of us, and even when Julian was in Brazil that summer and it was just you and me—I think it would have been a mistake. I think we might have ruined a great friendship. But now, well, we have all this distance. Nine years of it. There’s nothing to ruin. I mean, yes, I want to be your friend again, but I think there’s a chance we could be good at more now.”

  A triumphant smile travels up my face. “I think there’s a hell of a lot more than just a chance. I’m betting on it being a sure thing. Do you know how difficult it was for me to keep my hands off you back then? I was a horny teenager and you were this beautiful, smart, kind girl who knew everything about me. I basically walked around with a perpetual hard-on because of you.”

  She almost spits out her champagne, putting a hand over her mouth as she swallows it. “You did not,” she says.

  “It’s true. And some things never change.” I wink at her.

  Her eyes quickly scan my lap and then she blushes when she sees I’ve caught her looking.

  “Do you remember all those times we spent in your treehouse?” I ask.

  She nods. “That was a lot of fun. I think about those times often.”

  “My fantasies were pretty much centered around you and that treehouse and what I would do to you on the sleeping bag you kept up there.”

  “Oh, my God, really?” she asks, her face taking on an even deeper shade of red than before.

  “I spent a lot of time in my bathroom those days.” I laugh as she drains her glass and holds it out for more. I fill it and then I get up off the couch, holding my hand out to her. “We’d better eat before the food gets too cold. They’ve got warmers on it, but still.”

  I put my hand on the small of her back as I walk her across the room. Heat radiates between us through the thin material of her dress. Something else radiates as well. Desire? Passion? Whatever the hell it is, I haven’t felt it in nine years. That’s not true, I haven’t felt it ever. Not like this. I hold out the chair for her and then I serve her the salad from the cooler. She smiles up a
t me. “I think I like this, you serving me. Must be a novelty for you, huh?”

  “I don’t have servants, Mal. I hate the fact that I have to be driven around like a little kid, but sometimes it’s a necessity of the job. Maybe there was a time when I thought people should serve me, but I was a stupid prick. Not anymore. Never again.”

  “Speaking of Cole. Are you going to hire him full-time?” she asks, her eyes filled with hope.

  I nod. “Already did. Offered him the job yesterday. Damned if I’m not going to have security around when you are with me. You are my top priority, Mal. I mean that.”

  We finish our salads and I get the main dish out from the propane warmer. It’s some kind of chicken and pasta with asparagus. I pretty much let Skylar set the menu. I’m not too picky when it comes to food.

  “This looks delicious,” Mallory says when I put it down on the table. She closes her eyes and takes in the aroma of the dish in front of her.

  God that’s sexy. It’s the same thing she did to me in the car when I leaned over to put her seatbelt on. Makes me a bit jealous of her dinner. “I’ve never had a bad meal at Mitchell’s,” I tell her. “You should go there sometime.”

  She takes a bite of her food, rolling her eyes toward the heavens at the taste of it. “Oh, wow,” she says around her food. “I totally will.”

  My pocket vibrates twice in quick succession, it’s the special code alerting me to a text from Megan. I recently set Mal up with her own special code so I don’t miss a text from her either. Damn. If it were anyone else, I would ignore it. But it’s Megan. I have to check it.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and nod to it. “Sorry,” I say. “I just need to answer this text. I’ll just be a second.” I tap out a response to Megan and send it.

  “It’s okay,” Mallory says, politely. “Is it your manager?”

  Shit. Why did she have to ask? I don’t want to lie to her.