Page 99 of Stone Vows

He sighs deeply, grabbing the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry. I have an early morning,” he says, his apologetic eyes now dark with pain.

He looks back down at a sleeping Ellie and then pads out of the room, shaking his head along the way.

I shut off the light, close the door and flop down on my bed in frustration. He wants this. It’s all too evident by the way he looks at me. By the swell in his pants. Why can’t he just let it happen?

I crawl beneath my covers, anxious and confused as hell, my body wired as tightly as a bow string. I let my hand wander under my shirt; under my panties, thinking of those hazel eyes, that unruly hair I’d like to run my hands through, those naked abs, his tented pants . . .

Chapter Forty-six

When I get up with Ellie the next morning, Kyle is gone. I sit at the bar, drinking coffee from the same cup he used. It’s silly and juvenile, I know—the idea of me putting my lips where his have been.

“Mommy is crazy,” I sign to Ellie.

She smiles as if she agrees with me.

“You like him, don’t you?” I ask rhetorically, musing over the question while I shovel a spoonful of pears in her mouth. “I mean, he’s great, right? Much better than the jerk whose DNA you possess.” I wipe her mouth. “I’m sorry, Ellie,” I say and sign. “I’m sorry you drew the short straw with your father. I know someday in the far-off future, you might want to meet him. But I hope by then, you’ve had a good male role model in your life.” I look over in the direction of Kyle’s room.

“You hit the jackpot with your uncle, though,” I tell her, as she babbles between spoonfuls. “Caden is a big baseball player. One day, he’ll take us to his games and we will cheer him on. Maybe one day you could play softball, like I did.” I ruffle her soft hair. “Never let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. Or that you’re not good enough. Do you hear me?”

I laugh at my blunder. “You know what I mean,” I say to no one, rolling my eyes.

Ellie moves her mouth as if she’s talking. She likes to mimic me when I verbalize words. I do the sign for ‘I love you’and then I put my face in front of her face, puckering my lips in waiting. She leans forward and lays a kiss on me with her pear-flavored mouth.

I get up to wash out my cup, realizing just how much time I spend having conversations with my six-and-a-half-month-old daughter who can’t hear me and wouldn’t understand even if she could. “You need a life, Lexi,” I tell myself.

After reading to Ellie and doing our laundry, I spend the rest of the afternoon doing some work for Baylor. I love my job. Not only do I get to use my education and help out a friend, but I get to read the book she’s currently working on before anyone else. It’s called being a beta reader. She feeds me chapters of her novel as she writes them and I give her my feedback.

Reading for her is not part of my job, per se,thatI do for fun. I spend most of my working hours answering emails on her behalf, perpetuating her social media presence, organizing orders from her e-commerce site, and researching topics she’s asked me to look into for future novels.

Today, I’m gathering all the information I can on Paris. She needs maps, descriptions of historical sites, names of famous streets, commonly-used French phrases. Basically, anything and everything I can find about the city.

I asked her why she doesn’t just go to Paris to find all that stuff out. She said one day she might do that, but for now, she’s happy being here with the kids. She laughed and said that if I had a passport, she’d probably sendme.

I can’t imagine ever being able to pick up and just fly overseas. I can’t even renew my driver’s license. Hell, I don’t evenhavea driver’s license. I dumped it, and everything else in my purse that had my name on it, into the trashcan at the hotel where I cut and colored my hair. I was sure to squeeze a glob of color onto all of it so nobody would be tempted to go through it if they were so inclined. Then I double-wrapped the trash bag and walked it out to the hotel dumpster myself.

I left no trace of Alexa Lucas. A name I despised.

If I ever find myself in a position to get a divorce, even if it’s forty years from now, the first thing I’ll do is resume my maiden name. Alexa Kessler. I’ve always thought it had a nice ring to it. Lexi Kessler is even better.

I look down at my note paper only to see that in my mindless doodling, I had written my name. The only thing is, I didn’t write it as Lucas or Kessler.

The name I wrote was Lexi Stone.

I tear out the paper and wad it up, ready to throw it in the trash. He doesn’t want to date me, let alone marry me. And even if by some miracle, that happened, I’d never be able to marryhim.

Across the room, my phone chirps with a text and I smile. One of the first things I did after moving back here, was get a phone. Well, technically, it’s notmyphone, it’s Kyle’s. But I insisted on paying my part of the monthly bill. I can afford it now that I have a job. And it’s not one of those old burner phones like the one I picked up at a discount store last year. It’s a nice phone. A smartphone. So now I can text or email or Facetime anyone from anywhere. So many people take those things for granted.

I’ve vowed to take nothing for granted, not anymore. “For granted,” I think aloud, pushing aside the soft armband that reveals Grant’s hidden name on my wrist. I study it until I remember the waiting text.

I hop up and walk over to the counter to check my phone.

Kyle: I’m going out for drinks with Cameron and Gina after work. Didn’t want you to worry if I was home late.

Gina?As in the one who was his maybe, maybe-not girlfriend? I toss the phone back down on the counter, pouting.

Maybe he’s with her and doesn’t want to tell me. Perhaps he’s only using his career as an excuse. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t want a relationship. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t want a relationship withme.

I pick up my phone and tap out a text.

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