Page 14 of Stone Rules

Without thinking much of it, as if I’m drawn to him by some kind of force-field, I dip below the water and swim underneath the three lane dividers that separate us. The closer I get to him, the more electrified the water becomes. Tingles flutter across my body as the water rolls across me.

I pop up next to him, needing to tread water even though he is able to stand.

“You should really stay in your own lane.” He raises a disapproving brow. “It’s just common courtesy.”

“Are you going to fire me as your client if I don’t?” I let my head sink into the pool until the water rests just under my nose. Then I look up at him through my lashes.

He shakes his head, giving me a frustrated smile before grabbing my shoulders, turning me around, and pushing me back under one of the lane dividers.

I squirm out from under his hands and quickly swim around the back of him. I push off the bottom of the pool, catapulting myself up and out of the water so I can push down on him and dunk him under.

He shoots out of the water, shaking out his hair by rapidly snapping his head from side to side. I swear, in my head, I see it all happen in slow motion. And I watch like a bitch in heat.

He grabs me, cradling me like a baby in his arms. He holds me tightly against him as he ducks under each lane partition, never letting me go as he walks us to the side of the pool. He lifts me out of the water with little effort and sits me on the cold hard tile.

“I need to finish my workout,” he says.

We stare at each other as the water settles. I look down and see his erection clearly straining his well-fitted swim trunks. “I can help you with that.” I nod at it. “And I promise it’ll be a good workout.”

“I can deal with that later, Charlie. By myself.” He sinks into the water and pushes off the wall with strong, muscular legs that torpedo him back into the middle lane.

I don’t miss the fact that he called me Charlie. I guess playful, salacious Ethan Stone has left the building.

He swims a perfect butterfly stroke, not even once bothering to look over in my direction as I watch him swim length after length of the pool.

Refusing to believe I’m at all pouting, I finally decide to get up and head towards the locker room. I don’t look back. But that doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about all the ways he might ‘deal with that later.’

Chapter Six

Getting into the swing of things at the restaurant has been easier than I anticipated. Piper’s older sister, Skylar, manages Mitchell’s NYC, one of three establishments her parents own, and there are definite perks to knowing the owners—like getting higher starting pay than other new hires.

I guess technically, I’m not a new hire. Growing up, I spent summers waitressing at the first restaurant they opened in the small town of Maple Creek, Connecticut, just thirty minutes outside the city.

While most teenagers dreaded work, I couldn’t wait to go. Not only would I get to see Piper and her family, but it got me away fromher. Even if only for a few hours at a time. I used any excuse I could find to be away from home. My mother would often call the restaurant to see if I was there. And after a while, it didn’t matter if I was actually within the four walls or not, whoever answered the phone claimed I was.

They all knew I hated home. They all sensed something was wrong. They all tried to help. But my pride got in the way and I couldn’t bring myself to tell them. Even Piper didn’t know how bad it really was until we left the country after graduation. Prior to leaving, I finally confessed to Jan Mitchell that my mother abused me. She was livid at me for not telling her. At herself for not paying enough attention and noticing. She blamed herself. And because of that, I didn’t have the heart to tell her everything. It would ruin her. She’d already been through so much with Piper.

A few hours into my first shift, it gets busy. Not Maple Creek busy. Not even Barcelona busy. It gets New York busy. Fucking busy.

Thankfully, Piper is still training me, so she’s here to help out when I get slammed trying to juggle eight tables.

Jarod skirts by me with a full tray of drinks he raises over my head at the last second, right before I almost collide into it. He winks at me to let me know the maneuver was purposeful.

Even through the long sleeves of his white button-down work shirt, I can see the bulging of his arm muscles under the weight of the heavily loaded tray. His short, dark, manicured hair is incongruent with the gauges in his ears and his full sleeves of tattoos that I’ve only heard about, but not seen.

His complexion is quite a bit darker than that of his cousin, and every so often, he curses in Spanish, making me think he’s got a Mexican or perhaps Columbian heritage.

He passes me again, shooting me another wink. It’s not ago get ‘emwink. It’s more of awant to hook up after work?wink. It’s hot. He’s hot. A bit younger than me, but still legal. My eyes follow him over to his table and I watch his backside while he deposits drinks in front of the patrons. I can’t help but wonder if he’s as good in bed as his older cousin. Or should I say as goodon desk.

“Excuse me, miss. I only have an hour for lunch.”

I whip around at the familiar voice and my stomach does the jig when I see said cousin sitting at one of my tables. “Sorry. Be right there,” I tell him, trying to look all professional and not at all like I’d like him to bend me over the edge of the table after closing.

A half-smile threatens to show the dimple in his left cheek. Yeah, he’s onto me.

Jarod swats me with his order pad on his way by as I finish refilling the water glasses at the table next to Ethan. I ponder Ethan’s curt remark. Maybe it was meant to be sarcastic, but the scowl on his face tells me otherwise. He’s staring at Jarod over the top of his menu. Oh, of course, he must come here to see his cousin. He’s probably mad he got seated in my section.

I head to the drink station to grab some sodas. Seeing Jarod there, I ask, “Do you want to take table nine?”

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