by Ash Harlow
I wriggled again. “You look as though you slept rough.” Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?
“Wound up like a cat on the armchair in the tower.”
“You didn’t,” I said.
“Those girls are insane. The shit they were suggesting even made me balk. I told them to hit the bedroom and I’d be with them as soon as I found my camera. Then I locked myself in the tower.”
It was probably bullshit, and even more, it was none of my business. “You’ve got work to do, Stone. Please tell me they’re not staying long.”
“I’ll get rid of them. Fuck, I destroyed myself last night. There are a hundred construction workers in my head trying to jackhammer their way out. Mice made a straw nest in my mouth overnight. You should have stayed and kept me sober, Poppins. I’ll get this lot on the road and hit the gym.”
“Words, Stone. In an order that makes a story. Try writing.”
“Fuck yeah, Poppins.”
“Stone?” Cleo/Mindy sounded plaintive.
I gave Stone a shove. “Go, the children need you.”
Of course I wanted to believe he’d slept alone, locked in the tower. Sadly, I honestly doubted Stone could remember anything that went on last evening.
I closed the door of my office and tried to calm the way my body had reacted to him. I checked his Facebook page. The fans were calling for more photos. About an hour later, the guests made a chaotic departure, and I gave it more time, then headed for Stone’s gym with my camera.
What I saw made my mouth dry. There were no complicated machines in this room. Just free weights, a large mat, a rope hanging from the ceiling, a ladder arrangement of bars against a wall, and one photogenic man wearing gym shorts and a lot of sweat. French doors were wide open to the garden. The place was a heady mixture of peace and strength.
Stone didn’t acknowledge me as he moved slowly through a series of yoga poses, each one more complicated than the previous. I didn’t want to disturb him, but I knew the fans would love the photos. I crouched near the mat, the garden as a backdrop, and started taking pictures.
Finally, he finished.
“You should do this with me. It’s very relaxing and excellent for hangovers.”
“I’m not the one with the hangover.”
“We can fix that tonight.”
I laughed and took more shots of Stone wiping his face with a towel.
“I’m surprised,” I said. “I thought you’d have a setup with a bunch of high-tech machines. But this is quite simple.”
“All you need is your body’s weight and gravity.”
I swiped through the images on my phone. “As evidenced by this.” I waved my phone at him. “I thought I’d put some of these up on your fan page.”
Stone patted a space on the bench beside him. “Let me see,” he said, reaching for the phone and scrolling through the images. “Don’t forget Instagram.”
What I wouldn’t forget was the scent and heat rolling off him.
He handed me back the phone with a smile. “You’ve got a good eye, Poppins. These are excellent. Use whatever you like.” He gave me a nudge. “Want to join me on the mat for some stretches?”
Oh, God, hot face, definitely turning pink. I glanced at the mat. It was huge and could easily fit two people. “I’m not really dressed for it.” I was wearing jeans, and they’d stretched to full capacity over my butt and thighs. I didn’t want to risk a split seam.
“Excuses, Poppins. Bring gear tomorrow.”
“It’s all back at my apartment.”
“There’s a store downtown that sells workout stuff, yoga gear, that sort of thing. We can grab you something this afternoon.”
“No...really.” It was bad enough sitting this close to Stone on the bench. Lying on a mat with him would not be a good idea.
“Come on, Poppins, you’re stalling. Do I have to write it into your job description?”
“That won’t be necessary.” I stood and took a few steps back from him, getting him into focus and taking a few more photos. In one of them, I caught him winking. I knew it would be perfect for his fans, but for a moment, I considered keeping it for myself. I spied the rope again. “What do you do with that?” I asked, pointing at it.
“Let me show you.”
I had him. What man didn’t enjoy showing off? I watched as he took a high grip with his hands, then looped the dangling rope around his leg. He was at the top in seconds.
“You’re going to have to do that again.” I stood behind him this time to get some images of his shoulder and back muscles. When he got to the top, he swung the rope and reached out for the chin-up bar, and he proceeded to perform a set of chin-ups before dropping to the ground.
“I like to monkey around,” he said, giving me the double-dimples.
“You’re fit.”
“It’s good for strength and stamina, especially when you spend a lot of your life in a chair.”
He’d guilt me into working out if I hung around in the gym much longer. “I’ll upload these.” I scurried back to my office, wondering when the moment would come that I could be in Stone’s company without becoming acutely aware of every part of my body, every breath, every word I said. I’d never been like this around anyone before.
Perhaps it was his celebrity status that affected me. Or, perhaps it was Stone himself—a thought that concerned me more than merely being star-struck.
10
Stone
I showered, grabbed a large bottle of water, and headed to the tower. My outline remained blank, but my work on Steele’s forever girl was progressing. I slumped into the armchair that had been my bed the previous night and put my feet up on the desk.
Last night had been a disaster. Todd left this morning pissed off with me for not joining in the fun. The girls were cute, but so are kitten videos, and frolicking spring lambs. I recognized the boredom I felt and knew the potential danger ahead. Once I became bored, it was a fast track to doing something most people would regret. It was like a giant target was ahead of me, and if I hit it dead center, I’d self-destruct. When I was bored, I aimed for that thing because the thrill of not knowing whether I’d completely fuck it up this time was addictive.
There was no one to take down with me. That was something I made sure of. Nobody to wound with the fragments of hurt when I hit the target. Just me and my ego, my career. I could easily build that again, set the counter back to zero and reinvent myself.
A clean slate. That’s what I’d created after Lily. The bullseye was when I’d been issued the restraining order right after the threat of litigation if I didn’t write her out of book seven. The book of flames.
I didn’t believe in regret. Live with your decisions and move the fuck on. If you’re going to do something crazy, make it worthwhile. I wanted Poppins up here. I needed to talk to her. Today, she wore a top with a lower cut than she’d worn before. Maybe that was a deliberate wardrobe choice, maybe subconscious. Whatever, it didn’t matter. Fact was, Katrina was changing.
Thinking about her on the yoga mat made me happy. I’d somehow work that into her morning routine.
No matter how much I thought about getting her up here to discuss the book, I knew I was actually procrastinating.
I pulled Katrina’s list out of my wallet. We had a lot to get through in six weeks, but the weather looked ideal for tomorrow. I picked up my phone and made the call.
The following morning, I sent Katrina a text before sunrise and told her she needed to contact me urgently. Her call came through minutes later, her husky morning voice sexy as hell.
“Kit-Kat, are you dressed?”
“What the hell’s wrong? Have you been arrested? Please, Stone, tell me you’re not in jail.”
“I’m not in jail. I’m picking you up in ten minutes. We’re in a hurry.”
“You’ve escaped jail and you’re on the run. I can’t be part of this. It’s not in my job description.”
“Where’s your faith? And I don’t m
ean that in a biblical sense. Wear jeans, and bring a sweater and sensible shoes. Trainers. We’re having some fun, and then I’ll buy you breakfast. Nine minutes, now. Hurry.”
I couldn’t tell if her response was agreement or a protest because I cut her off. I didn’t want to give her too much time to think about it.
When I reached her house, she was already waiting on the roadside, messing with her hair in a way that just amped up the response I’d had to her voice. I leaned over and opened her door.
“Quick, in the jeep, or we’ll miss out.”
“Drive quietly. June and Mason are still in bed.”
I pulled out onto the road. “What the hell does ‘drive quietly’ mean?”
“You know. Don’t rev the engine, honk the horn, or burn rubber.”
“That’s the sort of thing guys with small dicks do, Poppins. You need better boyfriends.”
“My boyfriends don’t have small dicks.”
“You say that. But you haven’t seen mine.”
“Stop it. I don’t want to think about your dick. I need coffee. This is too hard. Why are we out of bed so early?”
“It’s a surprise. I’ll get you coffee soon. Lie back and sleep if you’re still tired.”
At the far end of town was a cafe that served excellent coffee and syrupy cinnamon buns. We grabbed a bag full and a couple of coffees. I thought I liked my coffee strong, but Katrina’s was loaded with enough caffeine to bring an elephant out of anesthesia. She pestered me for our destination a couple more times but gave up when she realized I wasn’t sharing.
“I hate surprises,” she muttered.
“Tough. You’re getting one.”
“Surprises aren’t—”
“In your job description? I think you’ll find they are. My life is one big surprise, and if you’re hanging out with me, expect them.”
She fiddled with the radio, and we teased each other about the songs we liked all the way to the airfield. She was easy to be with when she wasn’t blushing or doing something so incredibly cute that I had to struggle to dial back my reaction.
She stopped singing along to Taylor Swift when I turned into the small airfield.
“I’m not sure about planes,” she said.
“It’s all right. You’re not going in a plane.”
“Why are we here then?”
She’d see soon enough. I parked and got her out of the car, leading her to the far side of the trees that blocked the view from the parking area. When she saw the balloon on its side, the colorful envelope being inflated, she came to a stop. I took her hand and gave it a little tug, but the minx had dug her toes in.
“What’s this?”
Her voice hadn’t made it much over a whisper.
“Ballooning. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t think so. You do it, and I’ll watch.”
“I’ve done it so many times it’s boring.”
“You should be home, writing.”
“I think better in the air. And I might need you to take notes. Come on, Kit-Kat.”
“Katrina,” she hissed.
“Okay. Poppins, will you please walk with me to the balloon so that we don’t hold anyone up? It’s a perfect day for a balloon trip, but for safety’s sake, we have to get the flight over in the early hours before the wind comes up.”
She tugged back at my arm. “Like I said, happy to watch.”
I pulled her around in front of me and took hold of her shoulders. “I need to do this, and I need you to do it with me. It’s research. You’ve turned a terrible color. Are you going to be sick?” I liked holding her shoulders and feeling the little quiver she made beneath my hands. The loss of color in her face made her lips even rosier. I wanted to lean in and kiss her fear away.
She nodded. “I might be sick.”
“I’ll hold the paper bag for you. Now, start walking and don’t make a big deal of this. Think of it as an adventure.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“Fine. I’ll tell the pilot, and he’ll be sure to keep you alive. Anyway, dying’s in the premium package. I didn’t buy that one.”
She giggled. “That’s nervous laughter, just so you know.”
“Noted. Get your phone out and prepare to take a lot of photos. The pre-flight setup is almost as spectacular as the trip itself.”
I introduced her to our pilot, Anthony, whom I’d flown with before. I’d organized this trip so that it was just Katrina and me, rather than a large group. I wanted this experience with her all to myself.
In no time, she had her phone out, taking shots of the preparation. I managed to sneak in a few shots of Katrina myself, tucking my phone away before she noticed me. When it came time to climb into the basket, though, she backed off.
“I’ll watch from here,” she said.
I shook my head. “We’re out here today for you. Special trip. You and I are the only passengers, so we have to do it, Poppins.”
“Stone, I’m afraid of heights. Like, I can’t go past the third rung on a ladder.”
“You can hang onto me, then. Come on, the morning’s getting away from us. Think of the stories you’ll have to tell.”
“You’re the storyteller,” she hissed. “At least, you should be, except we’re out in the middle of a field with a—”
“Here we go.” I’d been maneuvering her toward the basket as we talked, and I bent down and scooped her into my arms. Her fists beat an anxious rhythm on my shoulders as she berated me. How I managed to stop myself from kissing her silent, I’ll never know. My reputation would be shredded if the guys could see me.
I dropped her into the basket and climbed in behind her. As soon as we were positioned, the tethers were released and our ascent began.
I kept my eye on Katrina. There had been no chance for her to shout at me for hoisting her into the basket, and if possible, she was even more pale than she had been on the ground. She had a white-knuckled grip on my forearm.
“As soon as I can feel my legs again, I’m going to kick you,” she snarled.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous when you’re angry.”
“This is way more than angry. There’s terror mixed with this. I think I’m in a dangerous state. Anything could happen.”
I pulled her hard against me. I detected the faint scent of lavender in her hair, and I bent to her ear. “There’s this frequently reported phenomenon where women in a state of terror strip off their clothes. Apparently, it makes them lighter and more capable of running when the flight response kicks in.”
Katrina slapped her hand against my chest. “You just made that up.”
“Honest. Google it when you get home.”
“If I get home. Twenty thousand feet in the air is not the flight response I wanted.”
“We’d be lucky to be at a thousand feet yet, and we’ll probably only go to two thousand. You’re going to love it.” I wrapped my arms around her and put my hand over her chest. “Poppins, I’m used to raising women’s heart rates, but yours is off the charts. Breathe with me and give your poor racing heart a break.”
“You’re impossible, Stone.”
“I do my best. Now, breathe in.” I felt her chest expand. “Exhale. Do it again.” She was almost breathing normally when the burner kicked in with a roar and made her jump.
“Christ, you’re like a rabbit. Get your phone out and take some photos.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t feel my legs. They’re numb with fear.”
“I’ll walk you to the edge.”
She fixed me with her big, round eyes.
“And I’ll hold onto you,” I assured her.
She gave a little nod.
“You’re going to have to let go of my arm if you want to take photos.”
“Of course.”
I glanced at Anthony, who was trying not to laugh, but I’m sure he’d seen it all before. Katrina took tiny, shuffling steps until she was about a foot away from the side of the basket. The
deep bend in her knees told me she was still scared.
“Straighten these legs,” I said, tapping her thigh.
The moaning sound she made went straight to my cock. I slid in behind her and bracketed her safely between my arms, which I placed either side of her on the edge of the basket. She leaned into me, then thought better of it and pulled away. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
She finally fished her phone out of her back pocket and started taking photos. That was when her fear began to subside. “I didn’t think I’d like this, but it’s kind of amazing up here. So silent, and that view. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
I took Katrina’s phone and snapped a few photos of her. “Something to show your mother,” I teased.
“Oh, she’d just say that if God had meant us to fly, we’d have been born with wings.”
“Tell her I think you’re an angel, in which case, flying is completely appropriate.”
Katrina made a face. “I haven’t even told her I’m working for you yet. Let’s leave her out of this. I don’t want to spoil a good day.”
“Ah, so you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I might be,” she said, taking the camera from me, swinging around, and snapping a selfie of the two of us. “Doesn’t mean to say I’m finished being annoyed with you.”
Anthony raised his hand to get my attention. “The breeze is getting up, so I’m going to take us down.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re going to land soon, Poppins. This is my second-favorite part of ballooning.”
“What’s your most favorite?”
“Sometimes, Anthony sets up so that we can bungee jump—”
“Stop it,” she cut in.
“And skydive,” I added.
Katrina’s hands flew to her ears. “I’m not listening to this.”
I took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands off her head. “It’s fun. And look at you now, all relaxed on your hot air balloon ride. Admit that you’re having the time of your life.”
Her smile was broad. “I am. This is a buzz.”
“Good. Now, let me explain the landing procedure because it can get a little bumpy. Basically, to stop this beast, Anthony has to drag it along the ground. It’s like a controlled crash.” Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because Katrina turned puce again. “It’s fun. Not dangerous at all. We hang onto these ropes, and I’ll hang onto you, too. I’ll show you what to do, and Anthony will instruct us if anything comes up. Be prepared to squat, lean, maybe even jump clear.”
