I miss Mama even though she only left a couple of weeks ago back on her cross-country road trip with Dad.
“Be careful with who you’re hugging, Mom,” Stone says, a tease in his voice. “She’s the little gangster thug who beat me up this morning.”
His mama laughs, a rich but aged sound. “Oh, come in and tell me that story, Lucy. I’m hoping you knocked some sense into that boy.”
I follow the woman dressed in dark jeans and a t-shirt of a Shakespeare play company that reads “Saved by the Grace of Southern Charm” into the house. Immediately, I buzz with energy and life. The living room is cluttered but not in a messy way. There are pictures all over the walls, and I’m itching to get a closer look. The desire to see Stone throughout all the stages of life—from wee diapers to the cute single-digit years all the way up to the awkward middle school years and into hishomme fatalehigh school years—is strong.
I knew about him in college well enough. He played football, and I was a cheerleader. He hit on me once at a party, but I don’tthink he remembers it. He was only a freshman at the time and had had a little too much to drink.
Instinctively, my eyes find him off to the side. He’s standing with his arms crossed and feet spread while sporting a cocked eyebrow, which lets me know he knows exactly what I want—to view him in all his years-gone-by glory—and he’s already vetoed the idea.
Ha, as if it were up to him.He’s going to be gone in an hour, and I’ll have free range to roam to my heart’s content.
“Have a seat, Lucy, dear. Do you want some coffee, sweet tea, or water?”
“Water would be nice.”
“I’ll fix you up a glass.” And with that, Marian hobbles off into the kitchen area off to the left of the living room. Stone still stands on the right-hand side in front of stairs that lead to the second floor.
“Your mother is a gem,” I say. Sure, I just met her, but I can already tell I want to keep her.
“She’s kind of the best,” Stone agrees with love in his eyes, and the way he peers into the kitchen with gentle care while glasses clink and cabinets shut brings my melting point down to whatever the temperature is in this house currently.
I’ll be a little gooey puddle on this hardwood floor if Stone turns that expression on me at any point.
“Here you go, Lucy,” Marian says, handing me a glass of ice water. “Sit down, now, girl. Let’s chat while I send Stone upstairs with your luggage.”
“Really, Mom? I’m injured,” Stone says.
“Oh, you’ve seen worse injuries than that, son.” She waves a hand and sits next to me on the well-worn couch.
“Oh, it’s okay!” I interject. “I’m the one who gave him a possible concussion.” I side-eye the man standing in front of the stairs. “He wouldn’t let the doctors test him, but that means I get to wake him up every two hours.”
“What is with my children returning home to me injured with possible concussions?” She shakes her head and clicks her tongue.
“Did something happen to your sister?” I ask Stone with a curious glance.
He laughs. “You’ll have to ask her about the Suitcase Incident.”
Noted. I’m always on the hunt for real stories to include in my books.
“But, I do need to run upstairs and freshen up for the bachelor party tonight.” Stone cuts his eyes from his mother to me. “You two ladies don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s a narrow list, Mr. Harper,” I say with an edge to my voice, forgetting I can easily use his first name now that I am his pretend girlfriend. In fact, I should have used his first name.Ugh. I’m already screwing this up.
He saunters over to me like a panther on the prowl, hooks his finger underneath my chin, and kisses me on the forehead. He mumbles against my skin, “I like it when you call me Mr. Harper when we’re not at work.”
Though my temperature is rising and my face is burning—I might be on the verge of spontaneous combustion according to the way my body is humming—I distinctly remember him saying he liked it when I used his first name. He’s saving my butt rightnow, and for that, I’m grateful. I should have known he wouldn’t be shy of affection in front of his family.
And that’s when I remember I forgot to do the most crucial task when embarking on a fake dating scheme…
“We should set some ground rules,” I whisper to where only he can hear since his head is still level with mine.
He chuckles lightly, his smile crinkling the corner of his beautiful but blackened eyes.
“Later.” He winks then winces at the action before snatching my luggage and ascending the creaky, wooden stairs.
“Whew, that was some heat straight from hell.” I turn, slack-jawed, to face Stone’s mother, who is busy fanning herself with her hand while sporting a wicked grin. It makes her look youthful and full of inappropriate mischievousness.
