Three Dates (Paths To Love Book 2)

by Grahame Claire

  “I’m not doing this to upset him,” I said evenly when he’d disappeared.

  Vivian patted my arm. “I know. But he’s only just gotten you back. He doesn’t function properly without you.”

  “If anyone else heard you say that, they’d think it was weird.”

  “I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. He loves you. We love you. Don’t forget that.”

  I swallowed hard and braced myself for what I had to do. “I’d better check on Stone.”

  “Muriella. Where are you?”

  Stone was settled in my bed, pillows propped behind him, his bare chest a sheet of muscle that gave way to an eight pack of abdominals. Then I saw the white bandage on his side that was covering the wound he had because of me.

  “I’m right here,” I said before disappearing into the closet to change into my pajamas.

  When I emerged, I turned down the lights, preparing for bedtime. He watched me, eyes narrowed.

  “You are not here.” He waited until I climbed in beside him to speak. “You haven’t been since the other night.”

  He was right. I was inside my head, plotting retribution. I’d hesitated and made a mistake; that needed to be rectified. The time had come to finish this. “It’s just been a lot to take in,” I said casually, sliding down until my head hit the pillow. I pulled the duvet up to my chin and refused to look at him. He deserved better than a murderer, but the sooner I killed my father, the sooner this would end, one way or another. I had to push him away now, or I’d never make it to Nicaragua to free us all.

  “After what you went through, there should be anger or fear or something, but it’s like you’ve shut down. Every second that passes, you put more distance between us. I can feel you leaving me.” Stone tapped his chest, and I still couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen.” I absently toyed with the soft cotton of the duvet. “Look at me, Muriella.”

  Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his. Guilt swamped me. “What do you want from me? Should I cry? Scream? Maybe shoot something else? Tell me how I’m supposed to react.”

  “All of that, if it’s what you need.” He pleaded for me to let him back in, his knuckles brushing my cheek. I couldn’t avoid his touch like I wanted to—it hurt too badly—but I didn’t lean into it either. “Every time I touch you, you tense, like you’re allowing it because I need it.” Fear and horror and anger flashed in his eyes. “Did something happen you haven’t told me? Did he fucking touch you?”

  I couldn’t stand the torment on his face. “No,” I assured him, itching to soothe him. But I only gripped the covers more tightly.

  “Would you tell me if he had?”

  “Yes.” That was the truth. As much as I didn’t want to hurt Stone with any more ugliness, I wouldn’t lie to him about that.

  Relief was evident in his eyes, but he was still tense. “If you can’t talk to me, then please confide in someone.”

  “Talk?” I barked out an incredulous laugh. “There is absolutely nothing to say on the matter. You were there. You should know that.”

  “This is affecting you more than you realize. You’ve become a shell of yourself.”

  “I need time. I can’t just get past this.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I—we—we’re not meant to be,” I said in a rush, and his face crumpled in unison with my heart. I prayed he’d forgive me for this.

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “It’s for the best.” I crossed my arms.

  “So I’m just supposed to let you go? Forget the last six years? Pretend you won’t take my soul when you leave?”

  I swallowed around the knot in my throat, unable to speak.

  “Why the hell am I here?” he finally asked.

  “You’re wounded. I need to make sure you heal.”

  He gestured to the bandage. “Darlin’, this right here is nothing compared to what it’s going to feel like if you leave me.”

  “In time you’ll see I’m right about this.” My eyes glassed over. If I had any chance of doing what I needed to do, I had to make this seem real.

  He balled the duvet in his fists. “I never even had a chance, did I? If it hadn’t been your father coming back, it would have been something else.”

  “Stone,” I choked out. He was wrong about that. I may have had my doubts and thought he’d be better off without me at times, but he’d shown me otherwise.

  He slid out of bed, bent to pick his T-shirt up off the floor with a hiss, and pulled it over his head. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the guest room.” The bed suddenly felt empty without him. I had no right to be surprised by his reaction, yet I was. “Sharing this bed means something to me that it obviously doesn’t to you.”

  I swallowed hard, and words got caught in my throat as I tried to tell him that wasn’t true. Being with him meant more to me than life itself.

  When I didn’t protest, the light in his eyes dimmed; the hope he held onto was fading. “You’ve always been a woman of your word, Muriella. Your mind is made up, regardless of what I think or want, so I’ll respect that and go back to the hotel in the morning. But you’ve promised me one more date, and I’m holding you to it.”

  I bit my lip and nodded, fighting to keep the tears from falling, still unable to speak. I’d made a promise to give him three dates, and I wouldn’t break that even if it broke me in the process.

  He left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, missing him so much already, it physically hurt. Until I went to Nicaragua and put an end to the threat my father presented, I had to keep my distance. I would kill my father, but there was a very real chance I’d lose my life in the process. It was better for them not to know of my plans. They’d try to get involved, and I couldn’t let them fight this battle for me. My father’s blood was mine alone.

  I buried my face in his pillow, breathing in Stone’s scent, letting it fill me. One more date. If I didn’t survive, or if he couldn’t forgive me for what I planned to do, at least I’d have one last memory of him. The date would be difficult, but I needed it, maybe more than he did, and I was determined to make our time together memorable so I’d have something to hold onto.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Stone

  “I need you to come home.”

  “Aw hell, this is about that woman, isn’t it?” my sister huffed into the phone. I knew she was at her desk, her back to the Houston skyline as she ruled the energy world.

  “I know you’re a big city, hot-shot executive, Mulaney, but I don’t ask you for much.”

  “A fine thing coming from you, Hollywood.” She sighed, and I heard her chair make a loud creak as she leaned back in it.

  “When?”

  “Sunday.”

  “As in two days from now?”

  I grinned. Ruffling my big sister’s feathers never got old. “Yep.”

  “Way to give me some notice, Stone. I’ve got people to answer to. Oil prices are in the shitter—like I had something to do with that. The fucking cost of sustainable, renewable energy is through the damn roof, making it all the more difficult to justify, so everyone wants oil again. I’m trying to hang on to my job and 36,452 others by keeping a company afloat.” I was tired just listening to her, but that was the way she liked things. After a beat, she said, “I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you.” My sister had never missed a holiday, and even though she was busier than anyone ought to be, Mulaney was always there for me, a fact I never forgot.

  “I’m warning you I already don’t like her. Anybody who can’t see what a good man my little brother is isn’t good enough for him.”

  “Just give her a chance.”

  “Fine, but I’m not playing nice to make you happy.”

  This was going to be a disaster. She’d already made up her mind to dislike Muriella, and once my sister decided something, it was easier to
tame a wild stallion than get her to change her mind. But it wouldn’t matter a damn unless I could get Muriella to Texas and show her we were meant to be.

  “Well, by all means do what suits you. I’d never want you to make a sacrifice like that.”

  She skated right over my sarcasm like an Olympic athlete. “It’ll be good to see you, Stone. I’ve missed you. That five seconds in New York doesn’t count, and that fucking FaceTime isn’t the same.”

  “Has your mama heard you talk like that?”

  “She knows my granddaddy taught me how to cuss,” Mulaney returned primly.

  “He taught her too.”

  We laughed, and there was a stretch of silence. “You okay?”

  “I’ve got a lot riding on this weekend.”

  “I swear to God, if she’s hurt my brother, I will—”

  “Mulaney, stop. I need you to help me make her see her family can grow. Convince her nothing is her fault,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t making much sense, which would only piss her off.

  “Okay,” she agreed, softening.

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “I don’t know shit about relationships.” The tough edge that struck the fear of God in grown men returned to her voice. “And don’t expect me to go easy on her.”

  “You’re the best. Want me to tell Mama you called me, said you wanted a weekend at home?” I offered.

  “She’d see right through that, and you know it, but I appreciate you trying to make me look good. I used to be her favorite before you came along, you know,” Mulaney reminded me, as she often did.

  “That was thirty-eight years ago. When are you going to get over it?”

  Her long huff of air blown into the phone made me smile. “Whenever I damn well feel like it, which will probably be never. If you talk to that brother of yours, ask him if he knows how to return a phone call. He’s about to work his way back on my shit list.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d ever gotten off. I thought we both had permanent spots from that time we put crickets in your sleeping bag.”

  “Thank you for reminding me of that,” she said, and I heard what sounded like a pen moving across paper. “You’re both back on. In permanent red ink.”

  “Hell, you put a snake in mine,” I protested, and she laughed. I hated those damn things, but my sister wasn’t afraid of them.

  “Served you right. I’m sure you’ve done something worse to me.” I doubted that. Mulaney stirred up as much trouble as any of the rest of us ever did. “I gotta run before this place melts down. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I love you, Stone.”

  “Love you too, big sis.”

  I hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. The distraction from my problems that talking to my sister provided vanished immediately.

  Three days had passed since I’d moved back to the Four Seasons. I hadn’t seen or talked to Muriella in that time. It might as well have been centuries. Staying away from her was taking a super-human effort on my part. I hoped this taste of life apart was making her realize she couldn’t live without me.

  I understood what she was doing, and in some warped way, I respected her for it.

  She was terrified of her father hurting Vivian, Daniel, or me, and her concern was legitimate. That son of a bitch had been prepared to shoot his own daughter.

  A knock on the door drew me out of my thoughts, and I dragged my feet to answer it. Vivian stood there with a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.

  “I come bearing gifts.” She barged straight into the living room, unscrewing the cap as she walked.

  She was about as beautiful as a woman could be—it was natural, effortless—but she looked as tired as I felt, though markedly more determined. She took a swig from the bottle, passed it to me, and flung herself on the couch, tucking her yoga-pants-clad legs under her.

  I took a long swallow and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Thanks.” After another pull, I sat beside her and hissed at the bite of pain from my wound.

  “How’s it healing?”

  For a second, I thought she was going to try to examine me again.

  “It’s no big deal.”

  She didn’t press despite the disbelieving look she shot me.

  “She’s planning on going after her father.” Her lips closed around the mouth of the bottle, and she tipped it up, her throat working as she swallowed.

  “Did I hear you right?” Like hell she’d ever face that son of a bitch on her own. If I had to go kill him myself, that’s what I’d do.

  “I wish you hadn’t.”

  “When did you find out?” I asked carefully.

  “Just before I came over. Daniel found out she plans to leave Monday.”

  “She told him?”

  Vivian snorted and cut her eyes over to me. “Um, no.”

  I don’t why that made me feel better, but it did. Stupid as it was, I wanted her to confide in me.

  “Whatever we have to do, she isn’t taking that trip.” I took the bottle from her hands and gulped down the liquid fire.

  “Hopefully the date will be enough to convince her.” She nudged me in the side.

  If it wasn’t, all the whiskey in the world wouldn’t help.

  “Any news on her father?”

  “All we know is he’s back in Nicaragua. Daniel is paying good money to keep eyes on that compound. If he moves, we’ll know it,” she said confidently. “I want to go down there and kill the bastard myself—apparently we all do—but Daniel says I have to be patient.”

  “I should have taken care of it.” I’d promised to battle Muriella’s demons. Instead, I’d let one loose.

  Vivian patted my thigh. “We need to focus on this weekend. Daniel’s made arrangements for the jet to leave Sunday around lunchtime. We’ll be right behind you in another one.”

  “Did you find what we were looking for?” So much hung on Sunday. And damn it, I was nervous.

  “Just before I came over. It’s perfect.”

  “Am I crazy for doing this?”

  “You want the honest answer?” she asked, and I felt myself smile. “Yeah, you are. But this is the only shot. You know what you want, and we’re all here to help you get it.”

  “I need all the support I can get.”

  “I wish I could tell you she’ll come around, but honestly, Stone, I just don’t know.” Vivian took another pull off of the bottle. I did the same.

  “I’m going for broke, Vivian. Hopefully, between my family and you two, we can talk some sense into her. I’m just praying that getting her away from here will help.”

  “It can’t hurt.”

  I took a little more solace from the bottle, if it could be called that. “I can’t lose her, V. Now that I’ve seen what life is with her, I can’t do it without her,” I said quietly.

  “It may take all of us, but we’ll make her see she belongs with us.”

  Vivian looked at the bottle, like maybe I’d had too much of it already. She didn’t try to take it away though. “New York is about the last place I ever thought I’d end up, but the damnedest thing has happened. Being here with Muriella makes it all right, better than all right, really. I can’t see going back to Texas to live. When I think about the future, it’s in her apartment, living below y’all. I see our kids running upstairs to play with yours—”

  “Whoa!” Vivian straightened, waving both hands in front of her like flashing stop signs. “I’m all for you having kids—they can even take over our house—but don’t go getting me pregnant as part of your plans.”

  “I won’t. Daniel will.”

  She gave me a withering look. “Smart-ass.”

  I grinned. “C’mon, V. You know you can picture it.”

  “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare the shit out of me,” she said, looking terrified. “Give me that.” She snatched the bottle from my hand and took a long swig, some of the amber liquid leaking out both sides of her mouth.

  I chuc
kled and patted her knee. “You’ll be a great mom, a cool one.”

  She scrunched her small nose up at me, her brows furrowing. “If we have kids, Muriella has to take care of them. She’s the one who’ll be a great mom. I’ve wanted to tell her that so many times, but I knew how she felt about it and didn’t want to make it worse.”

  “She will be,” I agreed, heaviness settling in around us. “Did you get that number I asked for?”

  She reached for her phone and fired off a text. “You sure this is a good idea?”

  “My gut says it is.”

  “Then I’m on board.”

  Vivian’s vote of confidence in me was reassuring. She’d tell me if she thought I was wrong, as quickly as she would if I was right.

  “Well…I guess I should go.” She stood and held out her hands to help me up. “Come stay with us. I don’t like you being by yourself. We don’t leave family on their own.”

  “It’s only two more days. I’ll be okay.”

  As I showed her to the door, Vivian gripped my arm. “Are you totally sure she’s going to come on the date?”

  “Before I left, I told her I was holding her to it.”

  She smacked me. “You’d better reconfirm.”

  “She’s coming.” Though a niggling doubt crept into my brain.

  “You can’t call. She’ll never answer.” She propped a hand on her hip.

  “One way to find out.”

  I’d already dialed when Vivian held up her phone.

  “Should’ve used this,” she whisper-hissed.

  After a few rings, Muriella’s voicemail clicked on. Just a generic voice, not even hers. “Darlin’, I’ll pick you up around ten on Sunday.” I paused, avoiding Vivian’s stare. “It’s just lunch.”

  But it wasn’t. This date would determine our future.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Muriella

  Vivian was acting strangely.

  Or maybe it was just me.

  When Valentina had given me a ride home from the shooting range, we’d cemented my plans. Buried in my closet were two guns and a box of ammunition. The serial numbers had been filed off. I had a plane at my disposal. No questions asked.