Stone Vows (A Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

“We fought over you, you know,” Skylar says. “Back when you were in the hospital. I thought that with your amazing personality and stunning looks, you’d make a great hostess.”

  “Thanks,” I say, trying not to choke up. “I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot with you guys. I never thought having real friends could be so important. I’m grateful for all of you.”

  They both put a hand on my arm. “We’re the lucky ones,” Piper says.

  “Okay, young lady,” Spike says. “I’m all done. Let me wash it off and cover it and you’ll be good to go.”

  I look down at my new tattoo after he wipes the soap off it. I stare at it, happy to have endured an hour of pain so I don’t have to stare at his name anymore.

  Yes, this will do. This one is much better.

  ~ ~ ~

  As I watch the odometer on the treadmill tick off another mile, I count all the things in my life that I have to be thankful for. Nine months ago, when I was sitting outside the hospital on a bench, bleeding, I never could have imagined what my life would be like now. Despite everything I endured with Grant, I still consider myself a lucky girl.

  “Hi,” a deep voice says next to me.

  I look in the mirror in front of me and lock eyes with the guy who has stepped on the treadmill next to mine. “Hi,” I say, breathlessly, not wanting to break my pace.

  He quickly works himself up to a fast run, my brisk walk paling in comparison. I find him staring at me often. He’s good looking. Tall, with striking brown eyes. I’m sure lots of women would be flattered to get his attention.

  But the only attention I want is from the man whose eyes can’t seem to choose a color.

  Twenty minutes later, when I turn off my treadmill, Brown Eyes does the same. He grabs a towel, wiping his sweaty face before swinging it over his shoulder.

  He holds out his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Conner Ridley from 2105.”

  I shake his hand. “Elizabeth,” I say.

  “I haven’t seen you here before. Did you just move in?”

  “I’ve been here a few months,” I tell him.

  “Which unit did you buy?”

  I stare at him, unwilling to divulge the information.

  “Right,” he says, cocking a brow at my silence. “You don’t know me from Adam. Well, Elizabeth, from somewhere in the building, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Conner spends the next few minutes telling me about the quirky residents who live here. Mr. Jones on the fourth floor is always writing apocalyptic sayings on poster boards and hanging them in his front window for everyone to see. Then there is Mrs. Hannigan up on twenty-three, who brings her Yorkie to walk on the treadmill every day because she’s scared to go outdoors. And Hank Anderson, who is on my floor, he works on Broadway as a transvestite opera singer.

  I look up at the clock on the wall. I told Greta, Charlie’s trusted babysitter whom she loaned out to me, that I’d be back by six.

  Conner understands my cue. “It’s been nice talking with you, Elizabeth. I hope we meet again.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him. “It was good to meet you.”

  As I make my way up to the twenty-eighth floor, I think about what Skylar said earlier about how men sometimes need a nudge. Then I wonder what would happen if Kyle thought I might be interested in another guy. A guy like Conner Ridley.

  A guy who wouldn’t care about a piece of paper. A guy who I would be enough for exactly as I am.

  Chapter Fifty-five

  “Where’s Greta?” I ask Kyle, when I walk through the door and see him holding Ellie.

  “I sent her home,” he says, without bothering to look at me.

  “But I need to pay her, Kyle.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid, Lexi? Of course I paid her.”

  He still hasn’t looked at me. In fact, he’s doing everything in his power not to look at me. He’s pretending to wipe something off the counter, but I can see from here, the counter is perfectly clean.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask, closing the door and walking across the room.

  “What could possibly be wrong?” he asks sarcastically. “Ellie’s happy. I had a great day at work; diagnosed a difficult case. Oh, and you—there’s obviously nothing wrong with you, I mean with all your exercising and all. And there sure as hell isn’t anything wrong with Conner Ridley.”

  I have to pull my lips into my mouth to suppress a smile. He must have seen me talking to Conner. “Oh, you know him?”

  He finally turns and faces me. “Everyone knows Mr. 2105.”

  “What?”

  He raises a questioning brow. “Do you mean to tell me he didn’t give you his apartment number?”

  “He told me,” I admit. “But he was just making polite conversation.”

  “Polite, my ass. He tells everybody his apartment number. And he’s slept with every woman south of fifty who lives in this building.”

  My jaw falls open. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. So stay away from him, Lex. He’s bad news.”

  “We were only talking, Kyle. He’s nice.”

  He shakes his head in disgust. “Of course he’s nice. How else do you think he gets women to follow him home?”

  The vein at his temple is pulsating and I have to bite my lip to hold in the laughter. Skylar may have been right. However, he’s hardly declaring his love for me. More like looking out for his roommate, I’d say.

  “Did you tell him where you live?” he asks, putting Ellie down in her playpen.

  I look at him like he’s gone crazy. “No, Kyle, I didn’t. You know me better than that.”

  “Do I?” he asks.

  I narrow my eyes at him, not bothering to justify his question with an answer. I think he has gone crazy. Or better yet, I think Mr. 2105 has made him crazy.

  I walk over to kiss Ellie before I head to the bathroom to take a shower. “Ellie will be fine in there for a few minutes while I clean up.”

  I close the bathroom door behind me, but it immediately opens and Kyle walks through, pinning me against the counter with his stare. “Do you want him, Lexi?”

  “Do I want the playboy of the western world? No, Kyle. I don’t want him. Now would you mind if I shower, please?”

  “He was eye-fucking you and you were letting him,” he says, crossing his arms defensively.

  “Eye-fucking? Are you kidding me, Kyle? What is wrong with you?”

  He shakes his head. “I think we’ve already determined that nothing is wrong with me. What the hell is wrong with you that would make you want to talk to that scumbag?”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “I didn’t know he was a player. Give me a tiny break for not being able to read everyone’s mind, okay? Plus, I was only talking to him. For like two minutes, no less.”

  “Is that why you have your tattoo covered up?” he asks, nodding to the bandage on my wrist. “So you can talk to guys? Or is it so they won’t know you have some other man’s name branded into your flesh?”

  I don’t even know what’s happening to him right now. Where is my nice, kind, save-the-world roommate? “You’ve gone mad, Kyle,” I say, trying to push him towards the door.

  He doesn’t budge a single inch. “Tell me the truth, Lex. Is that why you have your goddamn tattoo covered?”

  “It’s none of your damn business why I have my tattoo covered!” I yell. “And what if I was out trolling for guys—why would you even care?”

  “Of course I would fucking care, Lexi.”

  “Then prove it!” I say loudly. “Prove to me that you don’t want another man’s lips kissing mine. That the idea of someone else’s hands on my body doesn’t make you crazy. That the thought of me making love to Conner—or any other guy—doesn’t make your skin crawl. Because when I think about you doing those things with anyone else, I want to die, Kyle.”

  He takes a single stride, closing the gap between us before he devours my mouth with his. I may even taste a little blood due to the violent way his lips are claiming mine. But I do
n’t care. Because every fiber of my being wants to be claimed by this man. Every beat of my heart and every cell in my body lives for this feeling. The feeling I get when he’s touching me. I never felt it before him, and I know I’ll never feel it with anyone else after him.

  He lifts me up onto the counter, kissing, licking and sucking on my neck. It doesn’t even register that I’ve just been sweating and desperately need a shower. I can’t think of anything but what his lips are doing to me.

  He lifts my tank top over my head and swiftly removes my sports bra, cupping my breasts in his hands as he leans down to worship them with his mouth.

  “Oh, Kyle,” I say breathlessly, fumbling with his belt as I try to undo his pants.

  He helps me remove his pants and then my running shorts. His hungry eyes run over my naked body, making me feel as if I’m the grand prize; the biggest and best present under the tree; the winning lottery ticket. And I’m fairly certain I return the sentiment with my own heated gaze. Because he’s all those things. He’s all those things and more.

  He runs his thumb across my clit and I shudder. A moan escapes me when he puts a finger inside me. I reach down and grab his manhood, running my hand up and down his length in firm but gentle strokes until his moans of desire mingle with mine.

  “God, Elizabeth,” he says, gasping.

  My eyes fly open when I hear him call my name. But it’s not my name. Not really. And it dawns on me. I finally understand it. I understand that he only calls me Elizabeth when we do this. When we get hot and heavy together. When we get real with each other and let all of our emotions come through.

  Because the truth of it is, he wants me to be her again. He wants me to be Elizabeth. The girl with no past. The girl without a predetermined future.

  And I know I finally have my answer.

  I have to dig deep for my willpower as I push him away. “Stop,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion.

  His hands immediately fall from my body. Of course they do. Because he’s not Grant. Because he’s nice and kind and generous and he would never make me do anything I didn’t want to do.

  “What is it?” he asks, looking me over while bracing a hand on the mirror behind me. “Are you okay?”

  I fight back tears as I reach a hand up and trace the hard angles of his face. “Kyle, have you changed your mind? Have you decided that this is enough for you? That this—right here, right now, is enough for you? Because Alexa Lucas has to be enough or this will never work.”

  He looks down at the floor. It’s all the confirmation I need.

  I hop off the counter and pull my towel from the hook on the back of the door to cover myself. “I’m moving out.”

  He looks at me with guilty eyes. “Lex, no.”

  I nod in affirmation. “After Piper’s wedding next weekend, I’m moving in with Baylor. She offered Ellie and me her guest room. It’s the right thing to do, Kyle. I have to do it. I have to do it for me.”

  He backs up against the wall and runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t want you to go.” His torn voice is rough and thick.

  “But that’s the thing, Kyle. I don’t think you really want me to stay, either.”

  His eyes fall to my wrist. In the midst of our passion, my bandage came off, revealing my redesigned tattoo. He takes my arm in his hands and examines it. I have to admit, Spike did a fantastic job. You’d never even know this tattoo was created from another one. The entwined hearts are still there, but instead of the single word scripted over them, there is now an entire sentence.

  His fingers trace the edges of my reddened skin as he silently reads it. ‘Take Nothing For Granted.’

  He looks up at me. “Shit, Lex. You have your very own Chinese proverb.”

  “Nah,” I say. “But I think the guy from Boston might just be onto something.”

  Chapter Fifty-six

  “You are so beautiful,” I tell Piper. “Mason is a lucky man. And Hailey is about to get the best step-mom in the world.”

  “Thanks, Lexi,” she says, trying to hold back tears so she doesn’t ruin her flawless makeup.

  I leave her and the rest of the girls to their last-minute preparations as I go hunt down Kyle. After all, everyone else I know is in the wedding, so he is the only one I can sit with.

  I eye the security guards as I pass by each exit. Mason is a well-known football hero and him tying the knot is sure to draw attention. I’m grateful for the added security at such a high-profile event. But even so, I still refused to stand up with Piper. I couldn’t risk any wedding party pictures making the newspaper.

  “Mason is going to flip when he sees her,” I tell Kyle, when I find him staring at a stained-glass window. “I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.”

  He shifts his stare from the window to me. Then his gaze rakes up and down my body, taking in my form-fitting chiffon dress. I realize this is the first time he’s seen me all dressed up. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something. Maybe he wants to tell me he’s never seen me so beautiful. But he doesn’t. He just smiles and shuts his mouth. Much like he’s done since I told him I was moving out.

  What he doesn’t know is that I lied to him. When I told him Baylor had offered me their guest room, it was a complete lie. That night in the bathroom when I finally realized he might never fully accept me, I panicked, saying the first thing that came to mind. And then the next day, I went to Baylor with my tail between my legs, begging her to let me stay with her until I could figure something else out.

  She was only too happy to accommodate me. She said we could stay as long as we needed. But with three kids and a husband, I can only imagine adding two more bodies into the mix will be chaotic.

  Maybe I can move back into Mrs. Peabody’s guest house. I can work for Baylor from there. And it’s only an hour train ride so I can come back for meetings and for girls’ night.

  “Lexi?” He whispers my name so no one will hear, pulling me from my thoughts so he can escort me into the sanctuary.

  He won’t call me Elizabeth. Not even in public. Not since that night in the bathroom. I guess he realized what he’d done. So now, if he needs to get my attention when we’re not around close friends, he’ll just say ‘hey.’ He may have even jokingly used the name sign he made up for me. But not Elizabeth. Never Elizabeth.

  Kyle whispers something to the usher, and then the usher takes us to an inconspicuous spot several pews behind Piper’s family. More people funnel in and eventually, we become lost in the impeccably-dressed crowd.

  Mason and his groomsmen take their places at the front of the church. Music starts and heads turn to watch an adorable Hailey dropping rose petals on her way down the aisle. Laughter ensues when she reaches the front and turns to Jan Mitchell to ask loudly, “Did I do good, Mema?”

  Mallory and Chad walk down the aisle, followed by Baylor and Gavin and then Skylar and Griffin. Then Charlie, Piper’s matron of honor, is escorted by Ethan, who is Mason’s best man. The organist pauses before starting the processional. We all stand and watch Piper as she’s escorted by her proud father. He’s smiling from ear to ear, and maybe even crying, at the thought of marrying off his youngest daughter.

  While everyone continues to stare at Piper, I look at the front of the church and watch Mason. This has always been my favorite part. Watching the groom as the bride makes her way down the aisle. Mason doesn’t even try to hold back the emotions he’s feeling. I envy Piper. This is how every groom should look at his bride.

  I think back to the way Grant looked at me during our small ceremony that only consisted of my brother and a few of Grant’s police buddies. Or should I say, the way Grant didn’t look at me. He didn’t look at me because he was too busy watching the reactions of others as they looked at me. He liked to show me off, put me on display. I always thought it was because he was proud of me. I should have seen it that day, the day of my wedding. I should have seen the way he was collecting me like the way he collected his other trophies. I should ha
ve turned and run back up the aisle.

  I wipe a tear that rolls down my cheek when Piper’s dad kisses her and hands her off to Mason. I have to choke back more when I see Mason mouth the words ‘I love you’ to her before the preacher gets started.

  I want this. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. I don’t care about the hundreds of people. I don’t care about the skillfully-decorated church. I don’t care about any of the pomp and circumstance. I just want to be looked at like that. To be completely and utterly revered by a man like Piper is right now.

  I turn to look at Kyle before we sit, and my breath hitches. Because he’s not looking up at Piper and Mason like everyone else. He’s looking at me. And maybe I’m dreaming, but I could swear he’s looking at me with the same eyes as Mason was looking at his bride. He’s looking at me like he’s never wanted anything so badly in his life.

  We sit down and I pull a tissue out of my purse to dab my wet eyes. Eyes that won’t seem to dry up because I want something I can never have. Eyes that continue to water because I know he does too.

  Their vows make the congregation laugh. Their vows also make us cry. And as Kyle and I watch two of our friends get married, he reaches over and grabs my hand, lacing his fingers tightly with mine. We’ve never done this before—held hands. It’s nice. I close my eyes and cherish the moment. I’ll miss this.

  When the preacher pronounces them husband and wife, we all cheer as Mason takes his wife in his arms, kissing her passionately before walking his bride up the aisle.

  I feel my arm being tugged from behind. Kyle drags me out of the pew before the applause even dies down. He pulls me to the side of the sanctuary, behind a large support pole that holds up the balcony above. I look up at him, confused.

  “Don’t move out, Lexi,” he says, his eyes begging me. “I thought I needed this.” He gestures back to the crowd. “I don’t. I don’t need any of this. I just need you.”

  Tears well up in my eyes once again and I nod at him as realization dawns on me. “I do need this, Kyle. I want this. I want it for you. I want it for me. I want it for Ellie.”