Page 28 of Stone Rules

I come up for air. “Ouch!” I scream.

“Shit, Charlie. I’m sorry.” Guilt overtakes his features as he releases his grip on me.

I smile and swim around to his back, jumping on it and dunking him under. He tries to buck me off, but I wrap my strong swimmer’s legs around his torso and drape my arms around his neck.

He drags us both under water, twisting and turning in an attempt to dislodge me. I hold on for dear life, not budging an inch. He shoots us up out of the water and shakes his head from side to side, whipping his hair around. That’s when I catch a glimpse of it.

His hair falls back against his neck and before he can swat my hand away, I push his wet locks aside and get a clear look at the tattoo at the base of his skull.

~CAT~

I let go of him instantly and climb out of the pool. Looking down on him, I remember the comment Levi said earlier about him stalking me. With accusatory hands on my hips, I ask, “Why the hell do you have my initials tattooed on your neck?”

He goes pale. “Your initials are C.A.T.?”

I shake my head at him in diffidence. “Like you didn’t know that, Mr. Private Investigator.”

“Charlie, I’m not investigatingyou. How would I know that?”

“Then how . . . why?”

He swims away, treading water more than a dozen feet from me, as if he physically needs the distance between us. “They aren’t your initials.” The words come out of his mouth, but it’s almost like they aren’t his words at all. They aren’t the words of the strong, vibrant man I’ve come to know. They are more like the words of a broken one.

The resolve on his face tells me his declaration is true. And for one brief second, before I feel the wave of relief, I’m almost sad he hasn’t branded part of me into his flesh. “Oh? Well, whose are they?” I ask boldly.

He looks forlorn at my question, but quickly recovers. “Rule number six—don’t play your hand too soon.”

“So, there’s a hand?” I ask. “Some deep, dark secret about Ethan Stone?”

He ignores the question. “So what does the ‘A’ stand for?”

“Huh?”

“In your initials, what’s the ‘A’?”

“Anthony. As in my mom’s last name,” I tell him as I sit down on the edge of the pool.

“Charlie Anthony Tate,” he recites my name and I find myself wanting him to chant it over and over again.

He swims closer, narrowing the space he’d put between us. “So you seemed very interested in my brother the other day.”

I bite my cheek suppressing a smile. The formidable Stone has a jealous streak. “I was just making small talk.”

“Right. Good for tips,” he says.

“Something like that. But, now that I think of it, he is rather good looking. And a doctor—impressive.”

“Med student,” he corrects me. “And some people say we look a lot alike.”

I giggle at his boyish remark.

“And he’s named after a porn star,” he says.

“Porn star? Really?” I laugh.

“Yeah. An unfortunate coincidence for him.”

“I’ll say.”

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