Shit. I shouldn’t be having such fucking thoughts of my younger brother’s best friend. Hell, for all I knew, Dean was fucking her. That thought put another type of heat in my gut that I refused to give a name. It ignited a dynamite stick full of jealousy packed to explode all over the man, regardless that he was kin to me. Inhaling a rough breath, I forced myself to calm down.
“Stone, stop gritting on her. You’re making her nervous. Tell Aubrey it’s cool, bro.” Dean patted me on the shoulder as he dropped his things in the foyer. He had the damn nerve to swipe the water from my hand before he started toward the kitchen. “What’s Mina got cooking for dinner. I’m starving.”
I shifted my gaze to follow my brother’s retreating form. “I have work to do for several more hours. If you’re staying, get your damn gear off my floor.” I barked, refused to glance back at Aubrey, and pivoted toward my office.
~YH~
“You’re right, Dean.” I turned slowly to take in as much of the large room as possible. “Your brother’s lake house is indescribable.”
I stood in what could only be called a small art gallery. The room had an open-space concept with Italian marble, like the spacious foyer. During the tour Dean just took me on, I learned that Stone had it designed and flown in from Italy. I felt unworthy to stand on it in my squeaking hiking boots. The floor begged to be walked over with shoes that clicked or snapped to show off the elegant, polished echo truly.
“Yea. Neither of my brothers has a single creative bone to make actual art with their hands. But I must give it to Stone; he has an eye for fine things. Remarkable things.” Dean glanced at me and stared more directly than I would have believed the moment required.
When I arched a brow, expecting him to say something, he turned back to the painting. I strolled to Dean, who stood before Rembrandt’s Girl at Window. One, I was too afraid to inquire about its authenticity. It wouldn’t surprise me if Stone had enough clout to have it on loan from a museum. “I never imagine Stone being the type of person to take the time to sit before art. Maybe if it surrounded his desk.”
Dean chuckled. “I’ve seen him walking the space when he tries to work out issues in his mind about something. When we were kids, he did the same thing before major school projects in our mother’s library. She had various types of art among her hundreds of books.” My friend again tore his gaze from the painting, his eyes bright this time. They had the same appearance as most people when drunk. It was his creative look. Dean may be talking to me about Stone, but his mind was on crafting. He exhaled, causing his gaze to clear some. “Let me show you the pool. We could kill some time swimming.”
“That would be great.” I teased as I followed Dean out of the gallery. We turned left, moving further away from the central part of the house. The second floor was the location of our rooms, including five other guest rooms, a home theater that sat ten, and a game room complete with a console and a pool table. I chose a room by Dean’s closest to the stairs. When we left in the morning, I wanted us to cause the least amount of disturbance.
There were no other rooms along the long hallway on the left, but at the end was a closed door. There was an open door that we turned into right before the one directly in front.
“The pool can be accessed through here.” Dean barely paused as he guided me through some sitting room. There was only a couch, a highbacked chair, and a fireplace against the wall. A low fire was already in the hearth, making the room toasty.
I noticed a popular mystery book on the small table beside the chair, and a simple black bookmark sandwiched in the middle of the pages was a clear sign someone was currently reading it. Not wanting to linger in a space that didn’t only appear to be private but held the distinct notes of Stone’s cologne caused me to step up my walk to get out of the room. The man’s presence was so bold and strong, even when he wasn’t around, that I tried to avoid him.
When we exited the sliding glass door and entered the pool area, I asked, “Should we be in this part of the house?”
“Of course. Stone doesn’t mind. We could have come in from that door over there,” Dean pointed across the pool toward a large glass wall that showed the lake.
The view from the indoor pool area was breathtaking. It was sundown, and the painted golden, orange, red, blue, and purple sky as it ushered in the night almost made me sigh. My tiny condo had a balcony off my living room, but sunset off the busy interstate didn’t cause the same effect. I rented my condo for its efficiency and the fifteen-minute work drive, not for the landscape. “I’m sure that view never gets old.”
“Nope. When Stone’s not busy, and we plan it right, we can get him to take us out on the lake to watch the sun going up or down over the water.” He shook his head. “But we haven’t done that in a while.”
I knew it bothered Dean how often his older brother spent working over the last few years. Dean was my best friend, and I learned a lot about his family and what was going on, but I knew better than to prior into either of his brothers’ private life. Bryce was an open book, and it wasn’t hard to be in his presence for more than a few minutes and not know what was going on with him. Stone, never.
Turning, I looked at the rectangle pool. It wasn’t Olympic size, but it was big enough to do some decent laps. I enjoyed swimming two evenings a week at my local YMCA while working out at TA daily.
“You feel like a swim before dinner?” Dean was kneeling at the side of the pool and running his fingers through the water.
The water looked dark, and I figured the bottom was either dark blue or black. “A swim would be great.”
“Stone’s got a bunch of suits in the changing room over there.” He shook the water from his hand as he rose. He still had that far-away distracted look in his eyes. The one showing my friend was physically present with me, but his mind was elsewhere.
“That’s okay. I’ll just run up and get the suit I packed for the trip.” The resort had a hot tub, and our friend group always reserved it for a night. After a day on the slopes, it always felt perfect.
“Okay. I’ll meet you back here.” Dean moved backward from the wall of glass, the last rays of sunlight around him like a halo. He never saw me nod.
His mood didn’t bother me. I was used to my friend’s oddness. Dean was an artist, and his disposition changed like a chameleon in the rainforest. I made haste to my room, ensuring I had time to get in as many laps as possible before dinner.”
Getting to the stairs required me to walk by Stone’s office. I told myself not to glance that way, but the man seemed to be due north for me. Everything about him drew me toward him. I was used to fighting my attraction toward Stone around others. I could not stop the thoughts and fantasy when alone, particularly at night at home in my bed. If I was honest with myself, I never tried to stop them. Sometimes I fed them, thinking of all the little moments I had seen him during the day or heard his voice. I allowed myself a private moment of lust, touched myself under the blanket in the cloak of darkness, and brought my body to a release I craved. A release I secretly wished could come from Stone. But I wasn’t a fool. The possibility of me having any sexual encounter with Stone was as likely as a snowstorm in the Dry Valley of Antarctica.
Exhaling, I rushed up the stairs before someone found me staring at his door. Hell, it would be even worse for Stone to choose that moment to come out of his office and catch me.
It took me less than fifteen minutes to locate my room, jump into my suit, and drop my lilac terrycloth coverup over my head. I cinched it at the waist as I slipped on my shower shoes. At the resort, I’d wear my UGGS, but they weren’t necessary for Stone’s warm house.
“I was just coming to let you know dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes, Aubrey.” Mina was walking from the direction of the dining room when I came down the steps.
“Perfect. Thank you. I’ll let Dean know. We won’t be long at the pool, Mina.”