Page 67 of Stone
When she offered a flirty wink, even dragging her tongue across her bottom lip, it was either to test me or to kill me. She obviously didn’t know me that well. I might be easygoing on the outside, but I usually took what I wanted without asking for permission.
It was all I could do to keep my hands to myself. My pulse kicked up and I wouldn’t bet on whether or not I could remain a gentleman.
“So you’re a rich guy,” she stated not as a question but as an amusement.
“Are you talking about the wad of cash you found in my wallet?”
“Uh-huh and the fancy house you live in.”
“I wouldn’t call it fancy.”
“I would.”
She’d known exactly how poor my family had been while her father had been the richest man in town. Maybe in the entire state. My family had struggled for years to buy clothes to send me to school or to put food on the table.
My dad had never managed to hold down a job and everyone in town had thought him a deadbeat. They hadn’t understood him or his talents. “I don’t know about rich, but I do okay.”
“You’re like your father, you know.”
I wasn’t expecting her comment. “How so?”
“He was ingenious and no one ever gave him enough credit. Do you remember when you were shocked to learn he’d invested money in the stock market?” Her memory was incredible. I glanced at the ring on her finger for the fifteenth time.
“You mean money he’d won from a poker game?”
She cocked her head, studying me quizzically. “Poker games aren’t illegal. Instead of spending the money on drugs or booze, he invested every dime. That’s what you told me and it was thefirst time you acted proud of him. I’m going to guess when your parents died, they left you something special in their will.”
The woman never ceased to amaze me. She’d been the one to challenge my anger about my father, even mentioning she’d wished her father was more like mine. It had taken me a full six months to understand why. “You want to know the truth?”
“Absolutely.”
“They’d amassed a fortune. You’d never know it by how they lived. Sure, they exchanged the beat-up trailer for a small house, but both the vehicles they drove were fifteen years old. They never took vacations and they rarely went out to eat. I had no idea how much money Dad had earned until it was too late to remind them to enjoy the spoils of all his hard work.”
“They wanted to leave you a legacy. That’s very special. I’ll also venture a guess you followed in your dad’s footsteps, investing and playing the stock market.”
“Now, why would you say that?” The glint in her eyes allowed me to grin.
Shrugging, she scooted further away before answering. “I might have noticed your stack of mail while you were out.”
“Now you’re a gold-digger?” She had no idea how much money had been given away. It had felt like the right thing to do.
“Would you still love me even if I were?” She instantly realized what she’d said. Talking was so easy with her, yet it was so damn difficult to chip away at the shields we both had wrapped around us.
“Darlin’,” I said in a sexy voice to break the tension. “I’d love you if you took every dime I had and gave it to charity.”
She finally snorted for the first time since reconnecting. The sound had been a favorite when we were younger while letting me know she was happy. “Hmmm… If money meant anything to me, Stone Bellows, then I would have taken my father’s bribes all those years ago. I chose to walk away instead.” She was trying to be funny on purpose, but she wasn’t embellishing.
I’d figured her father had tried to bribe her to stay the hell away from me.
There was a hint of indignation in her tone and I couldn’t blame her. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Dani.”
“You don’t need to say anything. But… You make a good point. Use some of your money for the greater good. Food banks. Rescue shelters. Art programs for underprivileged children.”
She’d always been the dreamer.
“Hmmm… Art programs. Is that something you’re interested in participating in after all these years? I mean since you’re famous and all.”
She’d bent her knees and had her arms wrapped around them, resting her head as she peered at me. “Me, famous? Not really. Actually? I’d still love to work with people, especially children. But let’s face it. I’m an artist with a creative block; I doubt I’m going to have my pictures hung in the Louvre.”
