Delirious Page 4

  “You are, too!” I exclaimed, knowing that Crimson had proven that she was every bit as capable of conducting business as her twin.

  We walked into the café at the end of the block and met Scarlet, who had already gotten a table and was playing with Isabella.

  Crimson held her arms out. “Come here, baby. Aunt Crimson’s missed you.”

  Scarlet held Isabella out as Crimson gathered her in her arms and kissed her forehead. “Oh, you’re so precious, Isabella. Yes, you are,” she cooed.

  As I watched them together with Scarlet smiling proudly, I had to admit that I was a little envious.

  “You and Stone need to hurry and have one, so that we can set up play dates,” Scarlet said to me.

  Even though we had talked about having a baby soon, I didn’t want to mention it. We hadn’t even gotten married yet, and I had no idea whether we might change our minds.

  “Geez, Scarlet,” Crimson said. “Let the poor kids get hitched first.”

  “Well, they practically are, and I can’t help it if I want Isabella to have a playmate.” She turned her attention to Crimson. “Are you dating anyone yet?”

  “I can’t even think about having a social life until we’ve gotten the Atlanta store up and running. And in case you’ve forgotten, my help is on maternity leave.” Crimson gently squeezed Isabella’s cheeks, eliciting slobbery grins.

  “I know, and it’s gonna be so hard to come back to work,” Scarlet lamented.

  “Oh, no,” Crimson warned, pointing her finger at Scarlet. “You’re coming back to work.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t,” Scarlet countered.

  “I see it on your face.” Crimson shot her a knowing look, the same look that I’d seen them pass between themselves hundreds of times. The look that said, “I’m your twin. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  I often wondered if Luke had lived, would he and Stone be passing those same looks? I was quite sure that they would be.

  “Wait till you have a baby of your own, Crimson,” Scarlet said. “Then you’ll know why I’m conflicted.”

  “I’m not having any babies,” Crimson declared. “I’ll just be the doting aunt. There’s no way I’m growing anything in this body that’s gonna stretch me out like a hot air balloon. So not happening.”

  Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, tell me that after you’ve met the man of your dreams.”

  “I’ve officially decided that the man of my dreams doesn’t exist.”

  “Yes, he does,” Scarlet insisted. “You just haven’t met him yet.”

  The server came and took our order.

  “Are you going to the ribbon-cutting ceremony, Scarlet?” I asked, my mind turning back to business.

  “I’ll let y’all handle it,” Scarlet answered. “I don’t want to sacrifice any of my time at home with Isabella.”

  “Okay.” I looked at Crimson as she smoothed Isabella’s dark hair with her fingertips. “Stone and I will meet you at the salon on Tuesday, Crimson.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After lunch, I worked on press releases for both the salon opening and the name change of Quail Mountain Books to Luke’s Place.

  When the work day came to an end, I found Stone with his head bent over his desk, his hands threaded through his hair.

  I stepped into his office quietly, and he didn’t move.

  “Are you okay?” I asked softly.

  He lifted his head and smiled at me, but not before I noted how pensive he appeared. “Now how can a badass like me be anything but okay?” He stood, his tie loosened from around his neck, and walked toward me. “I’ve got the looks. I’ve got the job. And most importantly, I’ve got the girl.” He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him, his hands sliding up my back as he bent down and kissed me. I had a sardonic comeback on my lips, but the minute his warm, supple lips touched mine, the words dissipated like steam from a kettle.

  He pushed the door closed behind me, and his fingers worked deftly at unbuttoning the first few buttons of my blouse. His pushed the fabric open as his lips grazed my collarbone, and my heart hammered in my chest. Moving upward, he teased my skin with his tongue, and my head lolled back to give him access to my neck.

  His palm paused on my chest, and he leaned his head back, immobilizing me with a smoldering gaze. “After all this time, you still have the hots for me, and who could blame you?”

  His words finally penetrated my brain, and I pulled away from him, finding my voice as I buttoned up my shirt. “Of course I have the hots for you. I’m in love with you.”

  “I know,” he whispered, reaching for me.

  I took a step back, just beyond his grasp. “But that doesn’t mean you’re irresistible.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll bring dinner to your place in about an hour. Then, we’ll see whether you can resist me.” He turned toward his desk.

  “If you want me to find you irresistible, then you’d better slather yourself with honey and slap a stinger on my butt.”

  A deep laugh erupted from his chest as he turned back to look at me. “I’ll bring the honey, and I’ll definitely be slapping your butt.”

  I made a face at him and slipped out of his office.

  When I stepped into the hall, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. He was right, of course. I’m not sure when the turning point occurred, but I was the one who had difficulty resisting him. Stone had changed during the course of our relationship, and he was now the one who insisted that we wait for marriage. Honestly, I knew that he did it for me, which ironically made him that much harder to resist.

  I pushed myself away from the wall, smiling to myself as I imagined him drenched in honey.

  When I got home, I took a hot shower and changed into shorts and a pullover shirt. A short time later, Stone let himself in.

  “Hey, babe!” he hollered as he entered the living room.

  I finished putting a load of clothes in the dryer and met him in the kitchen. “Hey.” I pointed to the bag in his hand. “What’s that?”

  “Since I drove my car instead of my bike, I brought us pizza for dinner.” He motioned to the pizza box on the table. “And this,” he said, lifting up the bag, “is a big bottle of honey, as promised.”

  “Nuh-uh,” I said in disbelief.

  He grinned, mischief lighting his eyes like the sun shining through Granny’s vintage blue bottles that had been perched in the kitchen windowsill for as long as I could remember.

  “What’s it really?” I asked, emphasizing the last word.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, crushing me in his embrace. He set the bag on the table. “You got something against honey?” he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek.

  I melded into his chest, his nearness exciting me. It was so difficult to think with him this close to me. He kissed my cheek and worked his way along my jawline, his lips whispering soft promises of love. I could feel my heart racing. I could feel the energy building inside of me. I clung to him, his shirt gathered in my fists.

  His fingertips skimmed along the edge of my waist, their warmth releasing a trail of longing in their wake. His hand caressed its way up the middle of my back, sending desire shivering along my spine.

  I closed my eyes, savoring his touch as his lips teased their way along my neck. My head tilted as I was mesmerized by his masculinity.

  He leaned back, and I immediately missed his presence. He kissed the tip of my nose, and my eyelids fluttered open.

  “Do I need to remind you what your name is?” he teased.

  I swallowed, thinking that maybe he did. “I don’t care what my name is,” I whispered. “I just want you to do that again.”

  His smile disappeared, and his eyes smoldered as they drank in my expression. He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me, pressing me against his body as his lips claimed mine with an urgency that screamed that he wanted me.

  I was desperately in love with him, and part of me wanted to forget the wed
ding ceremony. Part of me wanted to run away right now and get married. I wanted to be with him as his wife forever. And I wanted forever to start right now.

  At some point, we made it to my bed, our pizza forgotten, the unknown item in the bag remaining a secret. I didn’t care about anything else. All I cared about was this moment, being with Stone surrounded by the love that we shared.

  With every gentle stroke of his fingers, with every sultry kiss from his lips, I could feel my love for him filling my chest as it overflowed from my heart.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed, though I knew our pizza was quite cold. We lay in each other arms, my hand resting on his chest. I marveled at how fortunate I was to find someone like Stone while I was young. We would live a long and happy life together.

  He rose from the bed and dressed.

  “Where’re you going?”

  He looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. He sat on the edge of the mattress, and it dipped with his weight. He picked up a strand of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers.

  “Stone?”

  “I’ve got to run some errands,” he said softly, turning away from me.

  “Now? But we haven’t even eaten.”

  “I’ll grab something at home.”

  “But I don’t understand. You have to run errands now?”

  He turned then and brushed his knuckle along my cheek. “Yes, now. Don’t worry. I know we’re supposed to meet my mom and the caterer at my house in the morning to go over cake flavors. I’ll be there.”

  “You’re not coming back tonight?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry, babe. It won’t be long until you’ll see so much of me, you’ll be begging me to get out of your hair.” He leaned down and kissed me. “I just have to take care of a few things for my parents. You know my dad’s still out of town, and my mom has been pretty tied up with wedding stuff.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Now, go eat some pizza. You look like you’re losing a little weight.”

  “I’ve just been really busy lately…and maybe a little nervous.”

  He pulled on his shoes. “Nothing to be nervous about, babe. It’s me and you.” He stood. “See you in the morning.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  After he left, I gathered the pillow that he’d been lying on and smelled of it, his scent filling my nostrils. I could hardly wait for morning to come, let alone wait the three weeks until our wedding.

  As I made my way into the kitchen, I missed him already.

  Flipping open the pizza box, I grabbed a slice of cold pepperoni pizza and took a bite. I peeked into the bag on the table. No honey. I smiled to myself as I pulled out a can of whipped cream and a half-melted carton of ice cream. I stuck the ice cream in the freezer and sprayed some whipped cream on my finger. After I licked it off, I put the lid on it and put it in the refrigerator.

  Whipped cream was much better than honey.

  Chapter 5

  Stone

  My bloodshot eyes stared back at me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I had done a lot of things last night, tossed, paced, worried, but I never could actually sleep. I looked like shit.

  I rubbed my palm across my bare chest. I had fifteen minutes to make myself presentable before Dara showed up at my house. In an effort to join the living, I squirted eye drops over the swollen blood vessels and took a steaming shower.

  Twenty minutes later, I answered the doorbell and led Dara to the kitchen where my mother and the caterer were already talking cake.

  “Good morning, Dara,” my mother chirped enthusiastically.

  “Good morning.” Dara waved.

  After my mother introduced us to Mindy, the caterer, Dara and I sat down at the kitchen table, where an assortment of cake slices had already been divvied up on small plates. We tasted several options and looked at a portfolio with way too many choices.

  “What do you like?” Dara asked, her Kawasaki green eyes focusing on my face. The truth was I couldn’t concentrate on something as insignificant as cake flavors, not with all the shit I had churning in my brain.

  “Whatever you pick is fine.”

  “Stone,” she said, dragging my name out like she was aggravated. “It’s your wedding, too. I want your opinion.”

  “My opinion is that I trust your opinion. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I don’t care if the cake is chocolate or raspberry or guacamole.”

  “You should care. All of your family and friends will be eating it.”

  My mother scowled at me from her seat across the table.

  “The only thing that matters to me is that you’re my wife by the end of the ceremony.”

  “Stone, help me,” she pleaded.

  “Don’t get raspberry. I hate raspberry. Everything else I liked.”

  “What about strawberry?” she asked, her voice sounding hopeful. “I think it would look pretty to have pink cake and white icing with pink flowers and green accents.”

  “Strawberry’s good.”

  “Good. That’s settled,” she said. “What do you think about the chocolate groom’s cake with white icing, decorated with drizzled chocolate and chocolate-covered strawberries?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, trying to show some modicum of interest when all I could really think about were the forces that were trying to sabotage our happiness.

  “Excellent choices,” my mother said softly as she turned her attention back to Mindy. The women chatted about the arrangements and final numbers and other details that my mind had already tuned out.

  After the caterer left, I returned to my room while my mother and Dara remained at the table discussing the wedding details.

  Damn, my eyes were aching, and if I didn’t close them soon, they were going to explode.

  ***

  When I woke up, I was stretched across my bed, the covers barely clinging to the end of the mattress. Dara was curled beside me, her cheek pressed against my bicep, her hand curved around my forearm. I must’ve been out of it because I didn’t remember her lying down beside me. The TV played softly in the background, and I assumed that she had watched it quietly until she fell asleep.

  Afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds, motes of dust dancing in its rays.

  I kissed Dara’s temple, and I could smell the clean scent of her shampoo. Lying still, I listened to her soft, even breathing.

  Reluctantly, I moved my arm, wrapping it around her and gathering her up against my chest. Her eyelids fluttered, and the faintest smile crossed her lips as she curled into me. It was one of those moments when I knew she was truly happy because people who were half-asleep had no time or inclination to paste phony expressions on their faces.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated on nothing but her, her gentle breathing, her sweet fragrance, the slight movement of her palm against my chest. A plethora of emotions eddied inside me.

  Before Dara, I never knew that I was capable of this kind of love, and while we were young when we first met, it was more than that. Dara had shown me kindness and compassion, patience and understanding, at a time when I needed it most—at a time when I didn’t even know that I needed it—at a time when I didn’t deserve it.

  Our lives had entwined so integrally that I couldn’t imagine being without her. In fact, even the thought of being without her scared the hell out of me.

  No, I could never let that happen. I could never allow anything to come between us.

  “Are you asleep?” her soft voice chased the horrible thoughts from my mind.

  I cracked my lids open. “No, my little hummingbird. I’m just enjoying the moment.”

  She stretched and pressed a kiss to my neck. “And what moment is that?”

  I caressed the small of her back. “The moment where I wake up and find the most beautiful, most caring, most amazing woman by my side.”

  “Well, you better get used to it because in exactly three weeks, I’m gonna be beside you every time you wake up.”

&n
bsp; “Mmm, I know, and you wanna know what the best part is?”

  She thumped my chest. “What can be better than that?”

  “Not only are you gonna be beside me every morning, but you’re also gonna be naked.”

  She thumped me again. “Stone!”

  I hugged her tighter against me. “Don’t act like that doesn’t excite you.”

  She giggled. “Well, okay, maybe a little.”

  “A little?” I asked in disbelief. “Woman, you need to fess up. I know the effect I have on you. I’ve known it since the first day you walked into the bookstore.”

  Her smile drifted away. “It’s true.”

  “I know. It’s true for me, too. My life hasn’t been the same since that day.”

  “I guess fate really does exist,” she said softly.

  I certainly hoped so, and I hoped that fate didn’t decide that I really wasn’t worthy of someone as wonderful as Dara and snatch her away from me before we could be married.

  I loved her.

  “We used to have so much fun,” she said.

  “Used to?”

  “I was just thinking about when we first started dating. Remember that mud fight we had?”

  “That mud fight we had? You were the one slinging mud. If I remember correctly, though, making out in the mud was a whole lot more fun.”

  She smiled. “And then we rinsed off in the creek. That was so cold.” She shivered at the memory.

  “I did my manly duty of warming you up afterwards.”

  Her eyes shifted downward coyly. “I remember.”

  We lay in silence a moment more, each of us remembering that day.

  With a burst of energy, she propped herself up on her elbow. “Let’s go for a motorcycle ride.” She looked at me hopefully.

  I reached out and threaded my fingers through hers, my thumb rubbing her palm rhythmically. “I like that idea. Let me get ready.” With all the things on my mind, a motorcycle ride would do me good. It didn’t hurt that a hot chick would have her arms wrapped around me, either.

  Dara sat up, and I scooted off the bed. After brushing my teeth and making myself presentable, we headed out through the garage to my bike. Several times during the last few years, I’d contemplated getting a new bike. I’d also considered getting my own place, but I’d opted instead to save my money towards the purchase of a house. My parents owned a large home. My brother, Dylan, had already gotten married and moved out, and my father was often away on business. I think my mother was relieved that I was still around.