A soft knock interrupted him, the sound abrupt in the quiet apartment.
“And so it begins,” Sophie muttered, quickly rising to answer the door.
He caught her arm, pressing a finger to his lips, then tiptoed to the door to peer through the peephole. “It’s Poppie,” he said in a normal tone.
“I knew that already. I know the sound of his knock.” Sophie went to the door but turned back to look at him before openingit. “Get ready to sell this.” She turned back, twisted the knob, and opened the door. “Hi Poppie. Have you had a good day?”
“It’s been busy.” He pushed past her and came to a stop when he saw Stone. “Damn glad you got rid of that wig. Now you look like a man I can have a drink with. Do you drink? Where in the hell have you been for two months?”
“Work took me away. I’ve missed Sophie like crazy, and I’ve been known to enjoy a good whiskey now and then,” Stone replied.
“Got any with you?” Poppie asked, not looking even a little suspicious.
“Poppie, remember what the doctor said about alcohol and your new meds,” Sophie reminded him gently.
Poppie swore like a sailor. “Damn doctors stripping away all my vices—first they come for my sex life, now my booze. What’s next, no weed?”
Stone came and stood next to Sophie.
The movement distracted Poppie from his rant. “Didn’t expect to see you back here, buddy,” he said, before focusing his gaze on Sophie and frowning. “Were you expecting him back?”
Sophie’s heart skipped a beat, her palms dampening as she searched for the right words, feeling the weight of Poppie’s attention. “Like he said, work called him away.”
Stone extended a hand to Poppie, his smile easy. “Nice to see you again, sir. Sophie speaks very highly of you.”
As Poppie shook Stone’s hand, Sophie watched their interaction closely, her nerves strung tighter than the tension in a romance novel’s black moment. “There was a bit of a mishap at his place…plumbing disaster, and so I told him he could bunk here until his water is back on,” she blurted, the words rushing out before she could think them through.
Poppie’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “Plumbing, huh? That’s rough. Good thing you met a girl with a big heart. Notmany would be that generous. If you haven’t noticed, her place ain’t hardly big enough for one, let alone two.”
Sophie laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as forced to their ears as it did to hers. “What are friends for, right? And anyway, it’ll be fun having a nice guy around for a change. A palate cleanser, you might say.”
“Damn straight,” Poppie replied, his gaze shifting between Sophie and Stone. “Well, I guess that means you’ll be staying for dinner. Sophie’s making enchiladas.”
“That's what I heard,” Stone replied, with a warm smile that Sophie found surprisingly genuine. “I’ve offered to help.”
As Poppie settled on the couch, Sophie and Stone shared a quick, conspiratorial glance before moving to the kitchen, which Poppie could completely view.
“That didn’t go too bad,” Sophie whispered as she began pulling ingredients from cabinets. “I was afraid he’d be rougher on you. He can be overly protective.”
“I like him,” Stone whispered back, his closeness sending a shiver down her spine. “I predict we’ll be best friends by the time I’m ready to pack my bags and go back to my own place.”
As they moved around the kitchen preparing dinner, the air between Sophie and Stone crackled like a secret on the verge of being spilled. Sophie reached for the salt at the same moment Stone did, their fingers brushing against each other. The moment they touched, the kitchen lights flickered briefly, casting a quick shadow over the room.
“Whoa, what was that?” Poppie called over the sound ofWheel of Fortune. “You two got too many things going at once in there?”
“Must be,” Stone called out, only a slight frown creasing his brows. A quick, almost imperceptible reaction. His eyes scanned the room briefly, reminding her why he was here. She was in danger.
Poppie chuckled. “Well, just make sure you don’t start any fires with all that static. I’m too old to be running out of burning buildings.”
Sophie swallowed hard, her mind racing with concerns. Who was behind the threat? Were they causing the lighting issues? Would something sinister happen tonight? The idea made her knees weak.
“You okay?” Stone asked. “You’ve gone white.”
“I will be. I’m just still processing.”
Dinner proceeded with light conversation and laughter, but Sophie remained acutely aware of Stone’s presence across the table and the threat lurking in her future.
As they cleared the dishes after their meal, their hands touched again, passing a serving spoon, and once more, a subtle flicker danced through the lights. This time, Stone’s frown was more pronounced, and Sophie caught it immediately.
