Page 18 of Stone's Promise

I ordered penne with chicken. Cody got spaghetti. I wrestled with the patience of a three-year-old as I waited for our server to set the breadsticks on the table and leave before I spoke.

"I took up the floor telling you my life earlier. What about you? What’s your origin story?"

His half-smile sent a signal straight to my clit. “I never heard it put like that before.”

I squeezed my thighs together under the table to relieve some of the pressure building. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable sharing.”

“It isn’t like that. Hardly anyone takes that kind of interest in my life outside of MMA. My dad worked a lot,” Cody said, taking one of the breadsticks. “Even when he was home, he wasn’t there, you know? He’d sit in his chair, drink a beer, and act like the rest of us were background noise. My mom wasn’t cold. She just wasn’t the kind of mom who checked in or worried too much about what I was up to.”

I rested my chin on my hand, listening. “So you had to figure things out on your own.”

He nodded. “Pretty much.” Our food arrived. He swirled his fork through his pasta. “My uncle was different. He saw me. He noticed when I got in fights at school, noticed when I started skipping class. Instead of giving me some half-assed lecture, he took me to a gym and told me to hit a bag instead of people.” A small smirk played at his lips. “It was the first time I felt like someone actually gave a damn about what I was doing with myself.”

I could picture it. Cody, younger but still with that same sharp focus, pouring himself into something that finally made sense to him.

He rolled his shoulders like he was shaking off a memory. “When I graduated, I had no plan. My uncle was in the military, and he told me straight up if I didn’t get some direction, I was going to end up either in jail or throwing punches in the street for money. He got me to enlist.”

I studied him, trying to picture him in a military uniform. It made sense. The discipline, the quiet strength. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah. It made me feel like I was part of something bigger. But it was hard, the real combat, not the stuff I do now. The things I saw while deployed couldn’t be shown on TV.”

I nodded, giving him space to continue if he wanted, but not pressing. He carried those memories with him, even if he didn’t speak them aloud. “I can’t imagine what that was like,” I said softly, meaning every word. “I know it shaped you.”

His eyes flicked to mine, searching, maybe for judgment, maybe for understanding.

I offered only the latter. “Is that why you have Max?”

His gaze dropped on the canine at his feet, who raised his head when I mentioned his name. Cody gave him an affectionate scratch behind the ears before nodding. “Yeah. My friend Ryder trains service dogs at his facility. Max was the runt of the litter when they found him on the side of the road. I guess Max and I needed each other.”

The space near my heart felt like it was humming. It wasn’t just sympathy I felt for Cody. I had admiration for him. He endured things I couldn’t fathom and turned his survival into something more. A protector, a fighter, and, in ways he might not even see himself, a healer.

He resumed telling me about his time in the service. “When my time was up, I didn’t re-enlist. I felt like I needed something else.” He glanced down, rubbing his fingers over the condensation on his glass. “Fighting filled that space.”

The feeling over my heart began to spread through my entire body, making me feel warm and alert at the same time. “I’m glad you told me.”

His gaze flicked back to mine, steady and unguarded. “I don’t talk about this stuff much.”

“I’m glad you felt comfortable sharing it with me.” I felt the sensation of a force pass between us, something deeper than the casual act we’d been playing. “Thank you for sharing tonight with me.” I wanted to share more than this night with him, but I didn’t say it out loud.

By the time we stepped outside, the night air was crisp. I barely felt it. The drive back to my house was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was a silence thick with everything unspoken between us, with the weight of what tonight had become. The city lights blurred past, the hum of the engine steady, but all I could focus on was the man beside me.

Cody’s hand rested on the gear shift, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him. My fingers itched to reach out and close the distance. Instead, I held myself back. This was already dangerous territory.

When he pulled into my driveway and cut the engine, he didn’t move right away. Neither did I.

I turned to him, finding his gaze already on me. The look of desire and heat darkening his eyes to a storm grey sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. “Cody,” I started, unsure of what I even meant to say.

“You don’t have to say anything.” His voice was lower now, rougher. “I just wanted tonight to be real.”

It had been. More real than I was ready to admit. My heart pounded. “Me too.”

His expression seemed to hold a mix of relief and a deeper emotion I had trouble naming. All I knew was how I wanted to see that look in his eyes whenever he gazed at me again and again. Then, slowly, like he was giving me time to stop him, he reached out and ran his thumb along the side of my cheek. His touch lingered against my skin, warm and sure.

“Emily.” My name was barely more than a whisper, but it curled around me, drawing me in.

I tilted my chin. It was all the invitation he needed. He leaned in, closing the last bit of space between us. Our kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just for the sake of it. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to make sure I felt every second of it.

It was soft at first, testing, but then deepened, his hand cupping my face like he wanted to savor the moment. My body responded before my brain could catch up, leaning into him, breathing him in.

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