“Good morning,” I reply through a yawn.
“Is the potato salad ready?”
“What potato salad?”
“The one for the get-together today.” She now sounds terse. “Youarebringing it, aren’t you?”
“Oh, crap. I mean, yes, I’m absolutely bringing it. The potatoes just finished boiling.” Do I even have potatoes? A quick mental check of all kitchen supplies confirms I do not. “What time do I need to be there?”
“By lunch. Brittany will be filming,” she says proudly.
I groan. Not filming. If Brittany’s doing that, it means she’ll wrangle us into some kind of stupid survival game.Great.
“What’s wrong with her filming?”
“Nothing,” I chirp. “It’s fabulous.”
“Of course it is. Do you know how many views her videos get?”
“Not offhand.”
“Hundreds of thousands. When you make videos with that many hits, then you can call the shots, Coco.”
And that makes me slink back into my shell and want to disappear. “I’ll see you soon,” is all I can muster.
“See you then.”
We hang up and I collapse back onto my bed. A knock comes from the door. “Come in.”
Stone peeks his head in. He’s just shaved and his face, without all that scruff, is shockingly handsome. Don’t get me wrong, he was handsome before he shaved, but he looked rugged. Now Stone looks like the CEO of a company—all chiseled jaw.
I realize I’m staring, so I pull my covers to my chin.
“I shaved,” he says proudly.
Behind him, Hercules bleats.
Stone glances back over his shoulder. “Just a minute, buddy. I said I was going to feed you. You’ve got to learn patience.”
“Baaaaaaaa.”
Hercules slides past him and heads toward my bed. The lambicorn jumps onto the mattress, and I grab hold of him, pulling him down to cuddle. In the past few days, I’ve learned Hercules is agreatcuddler—when he lets me hold him for more than two seconds. There’s nothing better than rubbing my chin against his baby-soft coat.
Hercules lets me hug him for a moment before he squirms out of my grasp and nibbles on the duvet. My eyes lift and I catch Stone watching me—his gaze unreadable but sharp, like he’s taking in more than just my bedhead and pajamas.
A weird little flutter jumps in my stomach. I pretend not to notice the way his eyes linger.
“You look good,” I say.
More handsome.
Stop it, Coco.
“You like?”
I close one of my eyes, pretending to inspect him. “Not sure. Where’s the Stone Maddox I know?”
He lifts his brows and nods solemnly. “Still hiding inside me somewhere.”
