Sharon Sala - For Her Eyes Only Part 3

“You did good, honey.”

Her lips trembled as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I want this to stop.”

There was such defeat in her voice that Stone panicked, and then held her that little bit tighter.

“I know, Jessie, I know. And I wish there was something I could do to make it all better.”

“Oh, Stone. So do I.”

Outside, the world went on as if nothing had happened, while they sat locked in each other’s arms, wondering what else she would she see, and what else might go wrong.

A half hour passed, and it was moving on to the hour when Stone seemed to kick into gear. He kissed the lobe of Jessie’s ear, then deposited her on her feet.

“You…stick the steaks in the microwave. I’m going to mop up my mess.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he said. “It’s over. You’re here. And I’m damned hungry. Feed me, woman, before I turn on you, instead.”

A small smile tilted the edges of her lips, and he grinned.

“What? You don’t fancy being my dessert?”

This time, Jessica heard herself laughing. It wasn’t much, but it felt good just the same.

“I already told you about that dessert business,” she said.

Convinced that, for the moment, he’d pushed her as far as she needed to go, he turned.

“I’m going to get a mop.”

He had just stepped out on the patio to the adjoining storage room when the phone rang.

“Hey, Jessie, get that for me, will you?” he called.

She picked up the phone on the third ring.

“Richardson residence.”

A very pregnant pause lingered after a near-silent gasp.

“Hello? Who’s calling, please?” Jessica repeated.

“I want to speak to Stone.”

The woman’s voice was stilted, sounding almost angry as Jessica put her hand over the receiver.

“Stone, it’s a woman. She sounds upset. Says she wants to talk to you.”

Mopping at the puddles with manly disdain for neatness, he frowned, then shook his head.

“Ask who it is,” he mouthed.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Tell him it’s Naomi, and I don’t like this third-party interrogation one bit.”

Jessica blanched. “It’s your ex-wife, and she says she doesn’t like this third-party interrogation one bit.”

Stone grinned, and when he did, Jessica’s spirits lifted.

“You tell her I’m busy, and unless she’s been kidnapped or bleeding to death, I don’t need to know.”

Jessica’s eyes were dancing. “He says to tell you…”

“I heard what he said,” Naomi muttered. “And you tell him— No. Never mind. I must have been out of my mind to even call.”

By now, Jessica was grinning widely. “She says, she must have been out of her mind to call.”

There was a distinct click in Jessica’s ear.

“She hung up.”

Stone was leaning on his mop with a silly grin on his face.

“Then that means you can do the same.”

Jessica hung up the receiver, and then stood, watching as Stone returned to mopping up the water he’d dripped.

“Umm…Stone?”

“What, honey?”

“Does that happen often?”

He glanced up. “What? You mean her calling like that?”

She nodded.

“Oddly enough, I hadn’t heard from her in years and then she called a couple of days ago. That call was the second time this week. The first time she called to tell me she was getting married. Knowing Naomi, it didn’t amount to anything but boredom or curiosity.” Then he shrugged. “This time, who the hell knows.”

“Do you still love her?”

There was such uncertainty in her voice that Stone dropped the mop and, within seconds, had her in his arms.

“Jessie Leigh, compared to the way I feel about you, I’m not sure I ever did.”

Jessica bloomed as the microwave dinged. “I think the steaks are hot.”

Stone lowered his head. “Oooh, honey, so am I.”

Hours later, the digital dial on Stone’s clock was registering 12:45 a.m. as they came up for air.

Stone brushed the hair from Jessie’s eyes and then ran his hand possessively over her bare midriff.

“How do you feel about a midnight supper?”

Jessica stretched and then smiled, like a well-fed cat who had its owner right under its paw.

“But you’ve already had dessert,” she said.

Stone got up and reached for his jeans, ignoring his nudity, as well as the interested look from the woman in his bed.

“I know what I’ve had,” he drawled. “But it’s my place. My bed. Here, I make the rules.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t seem fair.”

He looked back, cocking an eyebrow as he gave her an appreciative stare.

“You know what, sweet thing? Tonight, lying there in my bed, all mussed and rumpled, you’ve come close to giving me heartburn. Now, I know my limitations as well as the next man, and I know if I don’t get something substantial into my belly, I’m going to fade on you fast.”

“Does that mean we can’t do it again?”

He grinned. “Pretty much.”

She rolled out of bed. “I guess I’m getting hungry, too.”

He laughed. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

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