Stone in Love (2 page)

He’d been mesmerized by her, as he watched her rocking on the front porch swing. He had a still image of her in his mind from that moment: the long, brown hair flowing over her delicate shoulders, the bit of cleavage her strapless dress had revealed when she spread her arms across the back of the swing, the golden tan on her smooth, shapely legs.

He’d thought about carrying her to the top deck of the house and making love to her in the daylight, where her most secret parts would be on exhibit to him. If her heart was only half as beautiful as she was, he was in a heap of trouble. His workout complete, he seized a water bottle from the mini–fridge, drank a sip, and poured the rest over his head.

* * *

Though she really didn’t feel like eating, Lindsay heated a lean cuisine in the microwave and sat at the kitchen table.

Her roommate, Ireland, walked in the front door and threw her lucky rabbit’s–foot keychain on the counter. “Whew, what a day. I’m starved,” she said, leaning over the counter to see what Lindsay was eating. Her double–Ds oozed out the top of her too–tight midriff. “Ew, you’re having
that
for dinner?”

“Yeah, I didn’t feel much like cooking, or eating, but I figured I’d better get something in my stomach.”

“Still thinking about that guy you met a couple of weeks ago? Mister beach house, was it?”

“Yeah, I still can’t get him off my mind. There’s something about him that appeals to me. Maybe it’s his mysteriousness.”

Ireland sat at the table and propped her elbows on the glass top. “Why don’t you go visit him again? Didn’t he invite you back to his house?” She held her gum between her teeth and stretched it out, twirling it around her index finger.

Lindsay did a double–take and went back to her TV dinner.
Why am I not surprised
? “I don’t know how to approach him, but I do want to see him again.”

“So, what’s holding you back?”

“I guess it’s the part about visiting him at his house that I dislike. It feels kind of stalkerish. I wouldn’t mind talking to him on neutral territory, say like, at the mall.”

“You wanna give him a makeover at the Clinique counter?”

Lindsay wasn’t sure if Ireland was kidding. “Ha, ha.”

Ireland cocked her head to one side and wrinkled an eyebrow.

She
is
being serious!
Is it a good idea to carry on this conversation?
Ah hell, why not?
“And another thing: he lives in that big mansion, and I work at the mall. He will laugh at that.”

“Honey,” Ireland said, putting her hand over the top of Lindsay’s, “he won’t laugh if he’s worth talking to.”

Incredible. Asking Ireland for advice wasn’t such a bad idea.
She’s chock–full of surprises
. “You make a great point.”

“Give it a shot,” Ireland said. “You’ve never let anything hold you back before. You’re a go–getter.”

“You’re right. I will. Thank you.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Ireland said, and marched off to her bedroom, her neon–pink thongs sticking out the top of her jeans.

Chapter Four

Lindsay stopped by Charlie’s house after work Tuesday night. She figured she could play the “it’s getting late” card, when she was ready to leave. She walked up the stairs and onto the porch, trying not to make too much noise with her heels. She knocked a time or two and waited. No answer. When she was about to walk away, he opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

Lindsay was surprised to find him standing there in a pair of brown cargo–shorts and no shirt. His arms, toned and cut, led to broad shoulders. She hadn’t noticed before how well–built he was, probably because he was fully clothed then. His abs cut in on both sides, and his shorts hung loosely just under them. Her saliva thickened and she forced her attention up to his eyes.

“Don’t you remember me from the other day?” She stepped aside and pointed to her red Ford Focus parked in the driveway.

“Oh yes,” Charlie said, unfolding his arms and relaxing his stance. “Wow, I’m shocked to see you.”

“Well, I like to keep my promises, and I told you I’d come back, so here I am.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. Your back was turned when I opened the door. Something about you looks different tonight.”

“I’m in my work clothes,” she said, smoothing her hands over the front of her black dress pants. She felt very professional, yet sexy at the same time in her white, silky blouse. Slim–fitting, it showed off her every curve. “I’m sure I looked like every other girl at the beach the day we met, in my flip–flops and sundress.”

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t look like every other girl, and I mean that in a good way. You just look different, that’s all. Maybe it’s the ponytail.”

Lindsay thought about how her hair must have looked that day at the beach. She had driven there with the windows rolled down. Plus, it had been windblown from lying out by the ocean all day. It must have been a nappy mess. This morning she’d styled it slicked back in a low ponytail.

“Come on in,” he said, holding open the door. “Excuse the mess. My place is a bit out of sorts.”

What mess?
The house was so immaculate you could eat off the hard pine floors. Lindsay followed him through the wide, front entry hall that led to a huge living room with twenty–foot ceilings. The floor–to–ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean.

The house was very impersonal, however. Some photographs hanging on the wall would be a nice touch. Surely there had to be someone in his life worth displaying their picture. The only indication of human occupancy was a flannel blanket strewn across the black, leather sofa.

“Is this the mess you were referring to?” Lindsay asked, pointing to the blanket.

“Yeah, let me get that old thing out of your way,” Charlie said, quickly folding and throwing it in the nearest closet. “Please sit down.”

She was way out of her element, inside his elaborate home. Sitting back on the sofa, she crossed her legs.
I look too relaxed,
she thought. She moved closer to the edge of the sofa and sat with her knees together and her hands folded in her lap.
Too prim and proper
. She could not get comfortable to save her life—didn’t feel like herself in her own skin.

“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, leaning against a huge column that separated the living room from the kitchen. His hands were in his pockets with the thumbs sticking out.

“Fine.” Lindsay couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on his sculpted chest; the dark hair short enough to expose the hard muscles underneath.

And what was up with the bulge in the front of his pants? What kind of monster was he packing under there?

The old Lindsay would have locked eyes with him, thrown him down on his oriental rug, and rode him until daybreak. But he wasn’t in the same league with the few, skinny boys that she’d been with. One, in particular, she had intimidated so badly, he’d finished before he got his pants all the way down. So why now was she feeling like a virgin all over again?

“Can I get you a drink?” Charlie asked.

“Water, please.”

Charlie walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottled water. He handed it to her and sat down on the other end of the couch.

Lindsay took a sip and screwed the cap back on. “You live by yourself in this big place?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have picked something so over–the–top. It was the doings of my soon–to–be wife.”

Lindsay cleared her throat. “Wife?”

“At ease, soldier,” Charlie said. “Allow me to be more specific. She was my soon–to–be wife
at the time
. Now she’s ancient history.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Liar.

“Don’t be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, her cheating. She’s got a few screws loose, but hindsight’s twenty–twenty, right? At least I found out before the wedding. Anyhow, the way the market is currently, there’s no way I could sell it. So I’m stuck with it for a while.”

How unfortunate.

They sat in silence for an uncomfortable moment. “You want to go for a walk?” Charlie asked.

A little fresh air would do her wonders right about now. “Sure.”

He went to another room and returned sporting a navy blue polo shirt. “Let’s go.”

As they strolled by the next–door neighbor’s house, a friendly white–haired man greeted Charlie.

“How’s your dog, Mr. Jenner?” Charlie asked, keeping in stride.

“Brutus is much better, thanks to you. I can never express how much I appreciate you taking care of him while we were away. You got him to the vet just in time.”

“No problem. Goodnight, Mr. Jenner.”

“You dog sit?” Lindsay asked.

“Occasionally. Mr. Jenner looks after my house when I’m away, and when he’s out of town, I dog–sit his seizure–prone Labrador.”

Lindsay laughed. “That’s nice.”

They continued down the street toward the beach access trail. “Hi, Charlie,” said a woman with salt–and–pepper hair. “Isn’t it a lovely evening? I was thinking about taking a walk myself a bit later.”

“Hello, Aggie,” Charlie said. “This is my friend, Lindsay. Your grass still looks good. Let me know when you need it cut again.”

“I will. This guy is a keeper,” Aggie said to Lindsay. “Always reaching out with a helping hand.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lindsay said.

Charlie took Lindsay by the hand. “We’ve got a hot date underway, so we better head off. Night, Aggie.”

“Hot date, huh?” Lindsay asked.

“Hey, I had to come up with something. That woman loves to talk. Is this okay?” he asked, holding up their linked hands.

“Yes,” Lindsay said, her heartbeat pulsing in her neck. His large, protective hand felt natural around hers. Their strides mirrored each other step–for–step, as if they had taken this walk many times before.

“You’re impressive, you know—dog–sitting for your neighbors and mowing their grass. I know they’re grateful to live next to you.”

“It’s nothing. Aggie’s a widow. One day I saw her pushing a mower across that huge yard. She had sweat pouring and looked like she was close to passing out. I drove my riding lawn mower down to her house and finished cutting her grass. Now I do it every time I cut mine.”

“Can I pinch you to see if you’re real?” Lindsay asked.

“Go ahead,” Charlie said, extending his arm.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to hurt you? You’re too nice of a guy.”

“But then you could kiss it and make it better.”

Lindsay pinched him as hard as she could, creating a bright red mark on his arm.

“Good job,” Charlie said, clenching his teeth and rubbing his forearm.

Lindsay lifted his arm to her mouth and gently kissed the beet–colored welt. “There, all better.”

Come to think of it, her feet were feeling as bad as his wound–inflicted arm. Her closed–toe high heels had rubbed her little toe raw. “Maybe this walk wasn’t such a great idea. My shoes are killing me.”

Charlie turned his back to her and said, “Jump on.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, get on.”

Lindsay shook her head. “This is embarrassing, but okay.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Charlie carried her with the slightest effort.

She nuzzled into the collar of his shirt and inhaled the scent of his cologne. It reminded her of the salt of the ocean combined with the fresh, cottony scent of a dryer sheet. She was intoxicated by the aroma … and their close proximity.

He carried her up all fifteen steps onto his front porch. “Here we are,” he said, with an exaggerated slide of his hands across her backside. Lindsay noticed … and she liked it.

“Thanks for the … ahem … ride.” She couldn’t resist saying the first thing that came to her mind.

Charlie spun around and smiled. Her mischievous expression confirmed what she meant to imply.

As soon as she let that bold comment slip, she reminded herself that this guy wasn’t in her league.

Inside, Charlie sat on the sofa and motioned for Lindsay to sit beside him.

This time she didn’t leave as much room between them. “Would it be incredibly rude of me to ask what you do?”

“That’s fair. I suppose I do know a little more about you. I’m a pilot.”

“Like … an airline pilot?” she asked, in a rising pitch.

“Yeesss,” Charlie said, his brows lifting. “Why, is that weird?”

Lindsay covered her face with her hands and nodded. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?”

“I’ve never flown before. That’s pitiful, isn’t it?”

“No, you’re better off keeping your feet on the ground. So much goes on with commercial flights: lost baggage, delays, turbulence—which is my personal favorite. It would be nice not to have to worry about that stuff on a daily basis. Did I mention turbulence is my favorite?”

They both laughed. A stretch of awkward silence followed. Lindsay shot to her feet. “I should be going. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go,” Charlie said, standing toe–to–toe with her. “You just got here.”

Lindsay’s heart raced. She wanted to do bad things to him, but questioned her savoir–faire. Could she even keep up?

“Do you want to go camping with me and some friends this weekend?”
What? Where on earth did that come from?

“This weekend? Let me check my schedule,” he said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. For two seconds he tapped randomly on the screen. “I’m kidding. Of course I want to go.”

“Really? I wasn’t planning on asking you that. I don’t know how it slipped out.”

His voice lowered. “Do you want to change your mind?” He spoke sweetly, irresistibly … suggestively. She watched his hand slowly come toward her. He touched a strand of her hair and playfully twirled the end, laying the ringlet he’d created to rest on her shoulder. “I can pretend you never asked, if you want.”

She was hypnotized, locked in place.
Knees … weak
.

“Lindsay?”

“Hmm,” she said, still intoxicated by his touch. “What were you saying?”

“Never mind, I think I know the answer.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, their bodies flush together. He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Soft and full, they took control of her bottom lip. The warmth from his hand seeped through the silky material of her blouse, as he caressed her back. Heat traveled through her body, sending signals that excited particular parts of her in a brand new way. Her arms, heavy and limp, hung to her side, and she was powerless to move them.