Page 24 of Stone
He blinked, his mind taking a second to catch up. “You want to come to my place?” he repeated, making sure he didn’t misunderstand.
She nodded. “I…”
“Honesty, Juliana. We both need that.”
She swallowed, then nodded. “More of what we just did would be nice, but I’m not ready for anything…more. I want to be near you, though. I want you to show me your house. I want to eat dinner at your table.” She paused, then furrowed her brow. “You’re in the middle of renovations; do youhavea table? Or somewhere we can sit to eat?”
He chuckled. “I do. The downstairs is done and mostly furnished. There’s an en suite bedroom on the ground floor, but there are four bedrooms upstairs, too, including mine. It’s one of those big old Victorian farmhouses,” he added when her eyes went wide. Yes, it was far bigger than he needed, but the stately whimsy of the large place had called to him. It had been vacant for over two decades when he bought both it and the forty acres it sat on. He’d been working on the restoration for over two years and was nearly done with everything. Well, everything major…a couple of the rooms weren’t furnished yet, and one of the upstairs bathrooms still needed tile work.
“Okay,” she said on an exhale. “Then let’s go to your place. If you’re okay with, well, my…”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her hesitation. Rather than gloss over it, he decided to address it head-on. “You mean if I’m okay with you not having sex with me?” She turned bright red but nodded. He cupped her cheek with his hand and held her eyes as he spoke. “You will never owe me anything, physicallyor otherwise. Your body is yours, and you get to make your own decisions about what you want to share or don’t. When we decide to take that step in this relationship—if we do—it will be because it’s something we both want. Not something we do out of a sense of obligation. Not something we do because we’re worried the other will walk away if we don’t. Not something we do because some arbitrary timeline suggests we should.” He paused, unsure if he should say what was on the tip of his tongue. One look in her eyes swayed him, though. She deserved his truth, and while now wasn’t the time or place to give it all to her, he did want to give her a piece of it.
“I grew up with people who…” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. His brothers all knew his story, but it had been years since he’d spoken of it. He cleared his throat. “My home life growing up was shitty. To put it mildly. I saw enough people—men, women, and even kids—have their bodies sold to others for sex…for other things. At a young age, I made a promise to myself that I would never be like my parents. A part of that promise—a big part—is ensuring that any relationship I have is consensual. Fully consensual.”
He met her gaze and saw both empathy and curiosity, but no judgment. Or worse, disgust. He let out a long exhale. “So that’s my way of promising you that when we decide to take the physical part of our relationship further than kissing, it will be both our decisions. And until then, we can enjoy this,” he said before lowering his head and kissing her again.
“Mmm, okay then,” she said when he pulled away.
“Dinner here or should we pick something up?”
Her gaze skittered to the closed door. He sensed what she wanted but was curious if she’d tell him. A few seconds passed before she returned her gaze to him. “I’m not opposed to staying and meeting more of your friends, or brothers, or whatever youcall them. What should I call them?” She paused, an almost comical frown on her face.
“You can call them either. But…?”
“I’m…” She sighed. “I feel lame saying this because it’s not like we’re out fighting a war or anything.”
“Thank god. Not because you wouldn’t be good at it. You’d make a scary good strategist.”
A smile flickered across her lips. “I’m tired,” she said on an exhale. “See, I told you I’m lame. But I had a crazy adrenaline spike yesterday, then I didn’t sleep because, well, I was convinced every time a tree swayed in the breeze someone was breaking into my house to kill me. Then…well, theyactuallyshowed up to kill me. Or something. And we’ve been doing this all day.” She gestured to their laptops. Her gaze lingered there before lifting back to him. “Like I said, lame.”
“Not lame,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead before releasing her and stepping away. “How do you feel about Teodoro’s?” Her face lit up, making him smile.
“Meat lover’s?” she asked. He nodded. “My favorite. They also have that beet and goat cheese salad. It’s a little heavy to have both since the goat cheese is fried?—”
“We’ll order both,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ll call ahead so we can run in and grab it on the way to my place.”
“Perfect,” she said on a sigh. “Just perfect.”
13
Stone smiled as they gathered their things. If Juliana was lame for wanting to head home, then she was in good company. The club was his family, every member his brother. But he liked alone time. Not that he’d be alone tonight, but having Juliana with him was a bonus, not a trial. The image of them curled up on his couch, eating pizza and listening to music as they decompressed from their day was all too easy to conjure.
As he ushered her down the hall, the reality of the situation hit him. He loved his house and all of its quirky charm, but would she? Would she like the way he’d renovated it and appreciate the beauty of the land? Or would she think it much too big and too far from town?
Mantis and Charley appeared in front of them, stopping the downward spiral of his thoughts with questions about what they’d learned that afternoon. Juliana answered most, and he liked seeing her grow more comfortable with his brothers, his family. Still, he was grateful the others had wandered to their rooms to clean up for dinner and they weren’t waylaid bymeeting everyone. As it was, by the time they pulled onto the driveway leading to his house, it was nearly eight o’clock.
Trees filtered out much of the evening light, but dim beams danced through the branches. Of the forty acres he owned, half were cleared, but the other half remained a forest of pines and aspens that encircled the perimeter like a hug. A childish image, and no doubt a reflection on his less-than-comforting life, but it still came to mind each time he pulled onto his drive and passed through the thicket of trees standing sentry.
Beside him, Juliana leaned forward and gazed up at the canopy.
“Here,” he said, rolling the windows down. Juliana might not care, but he wanted her to experience the things he loved about his home. And the crisp evening air, heavy with the scents of the day—pine, drying hay, and the slight dank detritus—welcoming him, was one of them.
The familiar smells swirled through the windows, mixing with the scent of the pizza and creating an odd juxtaposition. Juliana inhaled, then stuck her arm out the window, smiling as the sleeve of her sweatshirt fluttered in the breeze.
They rounded a slight bend, and her gasp filled the cab. He smiled. She’d spotted his house. Surrounded by gardens that eventually gave way to fields, it sat in a small dip in the land, not big enough to be called a valley, but similar in feel.
“You have a tower!”
