Page 23 of Marked

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “The cottage.”

“Yeah, you know, the reason I’m in town? The inheritance I’m planning to sell as soon as—” I stopped, distracted by the arrival of the prosciutto and fig sandwich. “Holy mother of—is that honey drizzled on top?”

“Local honey,” Marcus confirmed, smoothly changing the subject. “From the Stone apiaries.”

“Of course you have apiaries.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, the bees all wear tiny suits and have excellent work ethic?”

That startled another laugh out of him. “No suits, but they are rather industrious.”

“I knew it. Corporate bees.” I took a bite of the sandwich and promptly forgot how to form sentences. The sweet-salt combination of prosciutto and fig was divine, the honey adding another layer of complexity that made my taste buds sing. “Okay, the bees can keep their jobs. They’re clearly overachievers.”

Marcus watched me devour half the sandwich before speaking again. “You enjoy food.”

“I enjoy good food,” I corrected, licking honey from my fingers without thinking. His eyes tracked the movement, andmy scar tingled in response. “Which this definitely is. Though I usually can’t afford places like this on my ‘recently graduated and drowning in student loans’ budget.”

“Then I’m honored to be your first.” The way he said it made it sound like he wasn’t just talking about the restaurant.

I choked on my water. “That’s… that’s not… I mean…”

“The tiramisu here is exceptional,” he continued smoothly, though his eyes danced with amusement at my flustered state. “You should try it.”

“I couldn’t possibly—” My protest died as John appeared with a slice of tiramisu that looked like it belonged in a museum. “Oh, wow.”

“Problem?” Marcus’ smile was downright wicked.

“Several, actually. Starting with how you seem to know exactly what I want before I do.” I picked up my fork, trying to ignore how that fact thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. “It’s unsettling.”

“Is it?” He leaned forward slightly, and the air between us grew thick with… something. Something that made my heart race and my scar burn. “You seem quite settled to me.”

He was right. That was the scary part. I felt more comfortable here, with this strange, commanding man I’d just met, than I had anywhere else in years. My body kept relaxing into his presence despite my brain’s protests.

“You’re staring again,” I said finally, licking tiramisu from my fork with perhaps more thoroughness than strictly necessary.

“You’re fascinating.” The simple honesty in his voice made me flush. Again. At this rate, I was going to need treatment for chronic blushing.

“I’m really not.” I set down my fork, suddenly aware of how many empty plates surrounded me. “I’m just a guy who stress eats and apparently has no shame about it.”

“You’re selling yourself short.” His hand moved across the table, fingers brushing mine. The touch sent electricity up my arm, and my scar pulsed in time with my heartbeat. “Though that shirt suggests you’re aware of the height issue.”

I snorted, grateful for the break in tension. “Did you just make a joke? I didn’t think you were capable.”

“I contain multitudes.” His fingers were still touching mine, and I couldn’t seem to make myself pull away. Didn’t want to pull away, which was… concerning.

“Multitudes of expensive suits, maybe.” I gestured at his coffee-stained clothing with my free hand. “I really am sorry about that.”

“I’m not.” The intensity in his gaze made my breath catch. “It led to this, didn’t it?”

This. What was this? And what was wrong with me? First Caleb, now Marcus. Two gorgeous men in one day, and my body was acting like it had been saving up all its hormones for this specific twenty-four-hour period.

I’d never been attracted to anyone before. Not really. I’d spent most of high school and college wondering if I was broken somehow. Went through a whole phase of researching asexuality, which felt close but not quite right. Like I was waiting for something. Someone.

And now here I was, having lunch with a man who looked like he belonged in a luxury fashion magazine, after agreeing to dinner with another man who belonged on the cover ofLumberjack Monthly. In a town full of wolf statues and mysterious Stone brothers and—

Stone brothers.

“You’re a Stone,” I blurted out, yanking my hand back like I’d been burned. Though, really, the burning was coming from my scar, which was practically singing now. “Like Caleb.”

“My brother.”

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