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

by Samantha Christy

  “No,” I say, tapping out another quick text. “It’s a friend from L.A.” I put away my phone. “There, all done. No more interruptions.”

  I can tell she’s disappointed by my non-explanation. But Mal wouldn’t understand. And I can’t risk ruining our first date. I quickly change the subject. “Save room for dessert,” I say. “It’s your favorite.” Then I frown. “Or at least it was.”

  “You had them make me dirt cake?” she asks, eyes wide in surprise.

  I shake my head. “No, I didn’t have them make it,” I tell her. “I did.”

  She freezes, her fork halfway to her mouth. “You made dirt cake for me?”

  I smile with pride. “Of course I did. I told you, I’m here to serve.”

  She laughs. “I can see it now,” she says. “The famous Thad Stone crushing up Oreos and mixing chocolate pudding and whip cream. Wait . . . you didn’t get gummy worms did you?”

  “Hell yes, I got gummy worms. What kind of dirt cake doesn’t have gummy worms?”

  She puts her utensils down on her plate, ending her meal that was only half eaten. “Who needs this drivel when we can have some of that? Bring it on.”

  Now I’m laughing with her. I clear our plates and dive back into the cooler to bring out the individual portions of dirt cake I made earlier today.

  “Oh, my God!” she squeals. “You even put them in miniature flower pots. I love it! Thank you, Chad.”

  Her smile. This girl. Shit, I’ll make her dirt cake every damn day if it makes her this happy.

  After our bellies are full, we move back to the couch and I turn on some music from my phone.

  “Are we ever going to talk about it?” she asks.

  I know what she’s asking just by looking into her eyes. “You want to know where we go from here. What happens next, right?”

  She nods. “I know you have a lot of things on your plate and that my job seems insignificant in comparison, but I have commitments too.”

  “Of course you do,” I say. “I wouldn’t ask you to give those up.”

  “I pretty much have to be here Monday through Friday every week,” she explains. “Except summer, but that’s a long way off. How are we going to have time to see each other?”

  “We’ll make the time,” I tell her. “I’ll make the time.” I pick up my phone and pull up my calendar. “Let’s schedule something right now so we know what’s next. So we have something to look forward to.”

  She smiles, getting her phone out as well. She pages through her mostly blank calendar as I peek over her shoulder. She tosses her phone back into her purse, laughing. “Who am I kidding,” she says. “My life is boring as hell.”

  I put my hand up on the back of her neck. “You are anything but boring, Mal. I promise you that.” I pull her face towards mine and rest our foreheads together. Her lips are close, so close I can almost smell the lip gloss she had on earlier. I want to taste those strawberry lips. I want to feel her tongue with mine. I want to do all that and more. But the build-up is so much fun, so I release her neck and pull away. I swear I can hear a faint mewl down in her throat and I have to hold back my chuckle.

  I turn my attention back to my phone. “I’ll be in Vancouver for a week on a press junket and then I have to go to L.A. for the Academy Awards ceremony. I might be able to squeeze in a weekend after that, but then I have to be back in L.A. for some pre-production meetings for the Defcon sequel. We start shooting this summer.”

  Mallory is so quiet I have to look up from my phone to see why. She takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Sorry,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “I think I’ve finally been hit with the enormity of all this. I mean, Academy Awards ceremony? Pre-production meetings? Shooting a film? You’re a movie star, Chad. Are you sure we can even make this work? I mean, I’m just a teacher.”

  “Would you please quit saying that? Being a teacher is what you do, it’s who you are. I happen to love that it’s who you are. And yes, we can make this work. So get your calendar back out and pencil me in for two weeks from Friday.”

  She pulls up her calendar again and smiles. “Oh, that’s a long weekend. I have that Friday off.”

  “Great, then I’ll come Thursday.” I add it to my calendar and then type out a text.

  She raises a brow at me. “Friend in L.A. again?”

  Shit. She was bothered by that. “I just texted my travel agent. Told her to fly me in that Thursday afternoon until Sunday night. You okay with that?”

  “You can do it just like that?” she asks. “Don’t you have to clear it with your manager or Kendra or somebody?”

  I laugh. “I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but they work for me, not the other way around as Paul would have everyone think.”

  She studies me for a minute. “You’re not actually winning an Oscar, are you?”

  I laugh at the mention of it. “Not even close.”

  “I bet you will for Defcon One,” she says. “It was a great movie. You were stunning. I was thoroughly impressed.”

  I beam with pride at her compliment. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. But no, I won’t win for that. Apocalyptic movies rarely get nominated for Oscars.”

  “Oh, well they should,” she says.

  I grab her phone from her and block out all three days with my name. She looks at it and smiles. Then she bites her lip. Damn, if I only knew what she was thinking right this second. Because if it’s the same thing I’m thinking, that weekend might just turn out to be the best fucking weekend of my life. Pun intended.

  Mallory falls asleep on me in the car on the way home. I guess the problem with me not drinking much is that I tend to give others too much to make up the difference. I wrap my arm around her and let her head sink into the crook of my neck. I inhale the scent of her hair, memorizing it so I can remember it later when she’s not with me. I know she thinks that because I’m rich and make movies and have fans that she’s not enough for me. She couldn’t be further from the truth. Not only is she enough, she’s the only.

  “Wake up, baby; you’re home.” I contemplate carrying her up to her house, but I know if I did—if I had her in my arms that way, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. But she’s had too much to drink. I won’t be the guy who takes advantage.

  “Sorry,” she says, embarrassed that she dozed off. “I didn’t mean to ruin our last few minutes together.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting you to sleep with me for years.”

  Cole opens my door and I get out, helping her out after me. “I’ll just be a minute,” I tell him.

  I walk her up the porch stairs and she pauses as we reach the door. “You don’t want to come in?” she asks with a sad smile.

  “That’s a loaded question, Mallory Kate.” I motion to the door. “I want to come in more than you can imagine. I want to come in and take you up to your bedroom and make slow incredible love to you. I want to hold you in my arms and stare at your beautiful face until the sun rises. I want all that and more.” I put my hands on her cheeks and stare at her full lips. “But you’re drunk and your dad would probably kick my ass, so I’m not walking through that door. But I am going to make good on the text I sent you the other night.”

  I wind my hands around her neck and pull her to me, our lips inches apart—so close the air between us warms with our quickening breaths. “I’ve waited my whole life for this,” I say, just before my lips come crashing down on hers. Her lips are soft and supple and I work them gently with mine, tasting and memorizing them before I pry them apart with my tongue. When her tongue mingles with mine, doing a perfectly choreographed dance, it’s like a well-rehearsed scene coming together as if we’d practiced it a dozen times, except that it’s our first time.

  A sultry noise escapes her throat, fueling my need for her as we devour each other. I press her back against the door, trapping her with my body as I lean into her, showing her just how much this kiss is affecting me. Her hands c
ome up and work through my hair as mine find her arms, her shoulders, her ribs, moving from one body part to the next, studying each with nimble fingers.

  When we are starving for air, my mouth escapes hers only to find its way to her neck, savoring every inch of skin between her exposed collarbone and her ear. She tastes like heaven. When I suck on a spot on her neck, a muffled cry escapes her. I smile against her skin as I record the exact location of the area for future reference.

  My mouth finds hers again and our tongues resume roaming, tasting and licking like this is the first kiss either of our lips have been allowed to have. Ever. My hands travel under her coat, around her back and down to the perfectly-rounded globes of her ass. I pull her against me, grinding myself into her. Her hands grab my shoulders and she supports herself on me as if her knees have become too weak to hold her.

  The headlights of a passing car remind me we’re still standing on Mallory’s front porch. I give her one last kiss, reluctantly pulling my lips from hers. I look into her eyes that are drunk with passion if not alcohol. “Jesus, Mal, that was so much better,” I say.

  Her fingers come up to wipe her swollen lips. “Better than what?” she asks, breathily.

  I cup her chin with my hand. “Anything I ever imagined.”

  She smiles brightly, her eyes dancing in agreement.

  “I’m warning you right now, I’m going to fall in love with you, Mallory Kate. And I’m going to fall hard.” I press her languid body back against the door so she won’t fall down when I release her. “I may already have.”

  I walk down the steps and head out to the waiting car. I turn around and shout, “See you in two weeks!” Then I watch her fall through her door and into the house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mallory

  I didn’t know how hard it was going to be. I didn’t realize how he’d become such an integral part of my life in the short time he was here. But being without him these last two weeks—it’s like being without air.

  Our daily texts and phone calls have kept us going, and the occasional reminders he’s sent to me from afar have been my beacons of light. Part of me loves that he has all this money yet he chooses to send me a simple bouquet of roses. Or the greeting cards he took the time to handwrite and mail. Or the pizza and champagne he had delivered from The Pizza Garden.

  I can barely contain my excitement knowing I’m going to see him in just a few minutes. He texted me when his plane landed, saying he’d be here shortly.

  Although the past two weeks have been hard without him; they’ve been anything but lonely. Between shopping with Charlie, a girls’ night with her and the Mitchell sisters, and endless cross-examination during dinners with Julian and Mel, I’ve had little time to myself. I even went to dinner at Ethan’s and got to catch up with him and Kyle a bit more. My life has become so much richer since Chad came back into it, and it has nothing to do with the enormous bank accounts of all my new friends.

  On the flip side, news has gotten out that the hot star of the upcoming release, Defcon One, has a new lady. A mysterious woman who appeared in the crowd, who accompanied him to dinner, and who was seen walking with him one night in the park.

  Fortunately, all pictures of me are obscured. Someone snapped a photo of me through the glass doors of Ethan’s building. Another person used cellphone video to tape us at the pizza place—just as he warned would probably happen. Thank goodness it was dark there. Stories of the mystery woman with long brown hair have been plastered over the tabloids, with headlines screaming of how Thad Stone has stepped out on his leading lady. There have even been rumors of him and Heather Crawford rekindling their relationship. Courtney has denied every allegation and continues to drape herself over Chad anytime a photographer is around.

  It’s been difficult, me being here and seeing his face with Courtney’s all over the media. He’s been good about calling me to prepare me every time they get photographed by the paparazzi—or ‘papped’ as he calls it. And I’ve been doing my best to avoid entertainment news and grocery store newsstands because I know it’s inevitable, them ending up on the cover. After all, their movie release is coming up soon and they were together in Vancouver for an entire week.

  I’m glad my dad is still working. I’d hate for him to see what a wreck I am waiting for Chad to show up. I changed three times. I shaved every place that needed shaving. I plucked. I moisturized. I’ve paced around the house for an hour. I wonder if this is how his fans feel when they get to meet him.

  I hear a car door shut in the driveway and my heart surges, beating a thousand times in quick succession. Then I hear the thump-thump-thump of the basketball, and suddenly, I’m not scared anymore. A few minutes ago I was wondering what it would be like to see him again. After that incredible date. After he said the things he did at my door. After our time apart. But now, I realize there’s nothing to be scared of. He’s just Chad, and I’m just Mallory. Like it used to be. Like it always should have been.

  I rip open the door to get to him. I have to refrain from running down the porch steps and jumping into his arms. Because that is exactly what I want to do. And by the look on his face when he sees me, I’m positive he wouldn’t mind in the least if I did. Instead, however, he throws me the ball as I step onto the driveway.

  No kiss. No hug. Not even a word of hello. “HORSE?” he asks, with a sinful smile.

  “What are the stakes?” I answer, nonchalantly as if my insides aren’t imagining all the possibilities.

  “I win, you pack an overnight bag,” he says.

  A warm shiver runs down my spine, all the way to my toes. “What if I win,” I ask, trying not to let my voice crack with sheer desperation.

  “Well, you can have whatever you want,” he says.

  What if I already have it?

  When I don’t speak, he says, “You don’t have to tell me now. It can be like a secret wish you can save for later.” He winks.

  “I’ll go first,” I say, not pulling my eyes from him as I take a shot and miss.

  He laughs, letting the ball roll into the bushes as he strides over and wraps his arms around me. “Hi,” he says, smiling down on me.

  “Hi,” I say, right before he kisses me.

  His hands pull me to him by the small of my back, pressing our bodies together as our mouths explore each other. He tastes even better than I remember. Two weeks of separation has heightened my senses. Every touch has my skin on fire. Every caress is like a crescendo of waves. Every murmur from his lips is a spear to my thundering heart.

  We break apart, lips swollen but not nearly satiated. “I forfeit,” I whisper.

  We both break into laughter as he picks me up and twirls me around. Free—that’s how I feel. Free to finally feel for him what I wanted to all those years.

  ~ ~ ~

  An hour later, Cole pulls our car up in front of a very nice hotel. I turn to Chad. “We’re not going to Ethan’s? I thought that’s where you always stay when you come to town.”

  “Not anymore,” he says, reaching down to pull something from his bag. He hands me a baseball hat and sunglasses. “Here, put these on.”

  I watch as he puts on his own Yankees hat and aviator sunglasses, making him look every bit the movie star that he is, albeit somewhat camouflaged. He shrugs. “Why ruin a good thing?”

  He’s right. I don’t think people seeing us going into a hotel together is the right way to announce our relationship. I like having this secret that only we know. And as Kendra pointed out, as soon as the cat’s out of the bag, everything we do will be scrutinized. I twist my hair up into a bun and put it under my hat.

  Chad looks at me with his trademark sexy smile, shaking his head back and forth. “What?” I ask. “Do I look that silly?”

  “Silly?” He reaches up and puts his hand behind my neck. “I was just thinking about what I’d like to do to this beautiful neck of yours.” He pulls me close and kisses me on a spot that makes my whole body tingle.

  Cole c
lears his throat from the front seat and Chad pulls back, laughing. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t help myself around her.”

  I smile and put on my glasses. He has beautiful women throwing themselves at his feet but it’s me he can’t help himself around. It’s quite a heady feeling. What millions of women wouldn’t do to be in my position.

  A concierge opens the door for us and retrieves our bags from the trunk. Cole hands over the keys to the valet and we all head into the hotel. At the desk, we stand back as Cole checks us in. “Rooms for Mr. and Mrs. Grape.”

  I shoot a funny look to Chad. Only he can’t see it through my glasses. Cole pays with a credit card and we’re escorted to the elevators. The bellman carries our bags for us. “Mr. and Mrs. Grape,” he says. “Your suite is right this way.” He nods to Cole, pointing at a door down the hall. “Yours is right over there.”

  After our bags are placed in the bedroom, Chad tips the bellman, sending him on his way. “Do you think he recognized you?” I ask, worried about our cover being blown.

  He shrugs, removing his hat and glasses. “Hard to say. They are used to having celebrities stay here.”

  I look around the lavishly decorated suite that is so out of my price range I doubt I could afford the wallpaper. “Wow,” I say. “Do you always stay in places like this?”

  “Sometimes. When you travel a lot like we do, it’s nice to have room to move around.”

  I frown. “It must be hard being away from home so much.”

  He nods. “Yeah, it gets to the point where you forget which city you’re in.”

  “Does it ever end?” I ask him. “Do you ever get a break from it all?”

  “Not really. Not yet anyway. If I take a break now, I might stop getting offered the big roles.” He sees my look of trepidation. “It’s not that bad,” he says. “I do get weeks here and there. Like now, I’m here with you. And I’m all yours.”

  All mine. More tingles work their way across my body. “So, what’s up with Mr. Grape?”