Page 48 of Stone Promises

“Do you remember all those times we spent in your treehouse?” I ask.

She nods. “That was a lot of fun. I think about those times often.”

“My fantasies were pretty much centered around you and that treehouse and what I would do to you on the sleeping bag you kept up there.”

“Oh, my God, really?” she asks, her face taking on an even deeper shade of red than before.

“I spent a lot of time in my bathroom those days.” I laugh as she drains her glass and holds it out for more. I fill it and then I get up off the couch, holding my hand out to her. “We’d better eat before the food gets too cold. They’ve got warmers on it, but still.”

I put my hand on the small of her back as I walk her across the room. Heat radiates between us through the thin material of her dress. Something else radiates as well. Desire? Passion? Whatever the hell it is, I haven’t felt it in nine years. That’s not true, I haven’t felt itever. Not like this. I hold out the chair for her and then I serve her the salad from the cooler. She smiles up at me. “I think I like this, you serving me. Must be a novelty for you, huh?”

“I don’t have servants, Mal. I hate the fact that I have to be driven around like a little kid, but sometimes it’s a necessity of the job. Maybe there was a time when I thought people should serve me, but I was a stupid prick. Not anymore. Never again.”

“Speaking of Cole. Are you going to hire him full-time?” she asks, her eyes filled with hope.

I nod. “Already did. Offered him the job yesterday. Damned if I’m not going to have security around whenyouare with me. You are my top priority, Mal. I mean that.”

We finish our salads and I get the main dish out from the propane warmer. It’s some kind of chicken and pasta with asparagus. I pretty much let Skylar set the menu. I’m not too picky when it comes to food.

“This looks delicious,” Mallory says when I put it down on the table. She closes her eyes and takes in the aroma of the dish in front of her.

God that’s sexy. It’s the same thing she did to me in the car when I leaned over to put her seatbelt on. Makes me a bit jealous of her dinner. “I’ve never had a bad meal at Mitchell’s,” I tell her. “You should go there sometime.”

She takes a bite of her food, rolling her eyes toward the heavens at the taste of it. “Oh, wow,” she says around her food. “I totally will.”

My pocket vibrates twice in quick succession, it’s the special code alerting me to a text from Megan. I recently set Mal up withherown special code so I don’t miss a text from her either.Damn. If it were anyone else, I would ignore it. But it’s Megan. I have to check it.

I pull my phone from my pocket and nod to it. “Sorry,” I say. “I just need to answer this text. I’ll just be a second.” I tap out a response to Megan and send it.

“It’s okay,” Mallory says, politely. “Is it your manager?”

Shit. Why did she have to ask? I don’t want to lie to her.

“No,” I say, tapping out another quick text. “It’s a friend from L.A.” I put away my phone. “There, all done. No more interruptions.”

I can tell she’s disappointed by my non-explanation. But Mal wouldn’t understand. And I can’t risk ruining our first date. I quickly change the subject. “Save room for dessert,” I say. “It’s your favorite.” Then I frown. “Or at least it was.”

“You had them make me dirt cake?” she asks, eyes wide in surprise.

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t havethemmake it,” I tell her.“Idid.”

She freezes, her fork halfway to her mouth.“Youmade dirt cake for me?”

I smile with pride. “Of course I did. I told you, I’m here to serve.”

She laughs. “I can see it now,” she says. “The famous Thad Stone crushing up Oreos and mixing chocolate pudding and whip cream. Wait . . . you didn’t get gummy worms did you?”

“Hell yes, I got gummy worms. What kind of dirt cake doesn’t have gummy worms?”

She puts her utensils down on her plate, ending her meal that was only half eaten. “Who needs this drivel when we can have some of that? Bring it on.”

Now I’m laughing with her. I clear our plates and dive back into the cooler to bring out the individual portions of dirt cake I made earlier today.

“Oh, my God!” she squeals. “You even put them in miniature flower pots. I love it! Thank you, Chad.”

Her smile. This girl. Shit, I’ll make her dirt cake every damn day if it makes her this happy.

After our bellies are full, we move back to the couch and I turn on some music from my phone.

---