Catherine Mann - A Diamond In The Rough

She sat cross-legged on the wooden deck, a dozen steps away from him. The dogs curled up around her and she checked over each of them, making sure they hadn’t picked up ticks in Vermont or sand spurs from their run along the beach earlier. She finished with Pearl, the search more extensive given the cairn terrier’s longer fur.

Stone walked out of the surf like Poseidon emerging from the depths of the ocean. Big. Powerful. The hazy glow of the ending day cast him in shadows, his dark hair even blacker slicked with water. She’d always known Stone the cowboy entranced her more than Stone the CEO.

But Stone nearly naked absolutely melted her.

She forced her attention back to Pearl to keep from drooling over Stone in swim trunks. Her skin prickled with awareness as he opened the porch gate and walked past her. She heard the rattle of ice as he poured a glass of sweet tea before he dropped into one of the Adirondack loungers.

“How was the water?” She released Pearl to play with the other two dogs on the fenced deck.

“Good, good.” He set his glass aside. “Everything okay with the dogs?”

They sounded like any other couple catching up at the end of the day, except there was this aching tension between them. “They all checked out fine. Just a couple of sandspurs on Pearl. I trimmed their nails, and I’ll want to bathe them all after they run on the beach again. Otherwise, they’re all set to meet their new families.”

He swung his feet around, elbows on his knees. “You’re a nurturer. It’s in your blood.”

Her hands clenched into fists to resist the urge to sweep sand from the hair on his legs. “Are you trying to needle me with the nurturer comment?”

“I’m just stating a fact. You’ll make a great mother someday.”

The humid night air grew thicker, her chest constricting. “You’re good with children. The natural way you held little T.J....I just don’t understand you.”

“I’m good with horses, too. That doesn’t mean I’m supposed to be a jockey,” he said wryly.

“I wasn’t insinuating you should be a father. You’ve been honest about your feelings on that subject. It just took me a while to stop thinking I could change your mind.” Hugging her knees, she studied him in the fading light.

“I’ve always tried to be careful that women didn’t get the wrong idea about me and wedding bells...until you.”

That should have meant something, but it only served to increase the ache. “You’re a playboy married to your work.” She exhaled hard. “I get that. Totally.”

Stone went quiet again for so long she thought they might be returning to the silent truce again. Awkward and painful.

Then Stone stood, walking to the rail and staring out at the ocean. “My father.”

Rising, she moved to stand beside him, wind pulling at the whispery cover-up over her bikini. “What do you mean?”

His father had been an off-limits topic for as long as she’d known him. Not even Mariah brought up the subject. Stone had always said that according to his mom, his paternity was a mystery. Was he opening up to her on a deeper level, including her in more than a few travel plans?

“I found out.” His voice came out hoarse and a little harsh as he continued to look out at the foaming waves.

She rested a hand on his arm tentatively, not sure how he would react but unable to deny him some comfort during what had to be a difficult revelation. “I wish you would have told me.”

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“I was supposed to be more than just ‘anyone’ to you,” she reminded him softly.

He glanced sideways at her. “Touché.”

“Did you hire a private investigator?”

“Don’t you think my grandmother already tried that hoping to find someone who actually wanted me around?”

His words snapped her upright in shock. “Your grandmother loves you.”

“I know that. I do,” he said with certainty. “But she’d already brought up her kids. She was supposed to be my grandmother. Not my parent.”

“Did she tell you that?” She knew full well Mariah never would have said anything of the sort to Stone. Johanna just wanted to remind him of how very much his grandmother loved him.

“She didn’t have to say it.” He went silent for the length of two rolling waves crashing to the shore. “When I was eleven, I found the private detective’s report of her search for my biological father.”

“Of course she would want to know everything about you. Perhaps she was worried that he might try to take you away. Did you ever consider that?” When he didn’t answer, she continued, “You said she didn’t find him. So how did you locate him?”

“The report uncovered a wealth of data about my mother’s activities then.” His face went darker. “Suffice it to say, my mother led quite an active party life.”

“That reflects on her.” She squeezed his arm. “Not on you.”

“I understand that.” He braced his shoulders, his eyes cold with an anger Johanna knew wasn’t directed at her. “I’m not a drug addict like my mother. And while I’m not a monk, I’m monogamous during a relationship. I am my own man. I control myself and my destiny.”

She rubbed soothing circles along his arm. Even if this conversation wouldn’t change things between them, she knew he needed to get these words out and for some reason she was the person he trusted most to tell.

She drew in a bracing breath of salty air before continuing, “How did you find out about your father?”

“My mother told me.”

“That simple?”

“Apparently so. She was high at the time and to this day doesn’t remember telling me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was twenty-five when she let it slip about the man who fathered me—Dale Banks.”

Johanna gasped in recognition. “The Dale Banks? The country music star?”

“My mom was a groupie back in the day.” He shrugged. “She hooked up with him and here I am.”

She studied his features with a new perspective. Wind whipped her hair over her face, and she scraped the locks aside. “You do look a little like him. I never noticed until now....”

“I needed more reassurance than a look-alike contest. So I confronted him.”

“How did you get past his security guards?”

“I have influence of my own.” He smiled darkly. “Remember the benefit concert we sponsored a few years back?”

She did the quick math and realized Stone would have been in his mid-twenties then. She couldn’t imagine how difficult that meeting must have been. “You arranged that to speak with him?”

“I’m not above using philanthropy for my own good, as well.”

“You don’t need to be sarcastic to cover your emotions.” She slid her hand to his back and tucked her body to his side as if it was the most natural thing in the world to share his burdens. And it was. She drew in the heat and salty scent of him, her senses starved after months without him. “That had to have been difficult for you, confronting him.”

“I didn’t. I got a DNA sample during dinner.”

“What?” She looked up sharply, unable to believe she’d heard him correctly. “You tricked him?”

“Easier than forcing the matter with a conversation where he denied it and I had to prove him a liar.”

He didn’t fool her for a second with this blasé act.

“What did he say when you finally told him?”

“He doesn’t know. Why should he? He slept with a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care enough to follow up.”

“Stone!” She cupped his face and made him look at her. “Maybe he’s changed. Perhaps he has regrets and would like to know you now.”

“I don’t need him in my life,” he said in a cold tone that left no room for negotiation.