16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
S ophie fumbled with her keys in a rush to get inside her apartment before Poppie realized she was home. As the key slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, she bent to retrieve it, only to feel Stone’s hand brush against hers as he reached for it too. At that exact moment, the hallway lights flickered.
“That’s weird,” Sophie murmured, straightening up, a shiver of unease trickling down her spine.
Stone’s expression tightened, a hint of concern—or was it something else?—flashing in his eyes. “Stay here a moment,” he instructed, his voice carrying an edge of command she wasn’t used to. “I’ll check for danger.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow, glancing at the now fine lights. If there was any danger, wouldn’t it be out here where the lights were flickering? Then again, this was an old building where half the tenants enjoyed rent-controlled living. Buildings like these weren’t known for fine living conditions. “Okay.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, so she could lean in and whisper the rest of her comment. “But hurry up. I don’t want Poppie to see me out here with you.”
Again, the lights flickered once and stopped.
Stone turned sharply, causing her hand to fall away. She watched as he scouted the empty hallway, his profile one of wariness. Was there more to his concern? His usual calm was tinged with a strain she hadn’t noticed before. Like a man grappling—not with danger—but instead a shadow. One only he could see.
“Scream if you need me,” Stone said before pulling his weapon and cautiously entering her apartment. Moments later, when Sophie heard noises from Poppie’s apartment across the hall, she scurried into her apartment, shutting the door tightly behind her.
Stone emerged from the bedroom, glaring at her. “What the hell, Sophie? I hadn’t given the all clear.”
“I’ll do better next time,” she whispered, not wanting Poppie to hear her.
“Why are we whispering?” Stone asked, moving with stealth quickness to stand next to her.
She placed her finger to her lips. “Because I haven’t figured out what to tell Poppie yet. He always knows I’m lying, and I hate doing that to him.”
“Then let’s tell him the truth.”
“We can’t. It would cause him to worry. Knowing Poppie, he’d try to guard both our places while we’re at work, and that could end badly.”
Stone ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow, the sound of flesh against bristle incredibly intimate in the tiny space. “Then we’ll tell him I’m your boyfriend. If he asks where I’ve been since he last saw me, I’ll tell him away on assignment. Once we’ve found out who has threatened you, I’ll explain to Poppie why we fabricated a relationship.”
Lying to Poppie hurt Sophie’s soul. He was her person. The one she could always count on. To not be honest felt disrespectful. But then again, getting him hurt by telling him the truth wasn’t a great option either. “Okay, but you’ve really got to sell the whole boyfriend act. I’m telling you, he can smell a lie.”
“Deal. Where should I put my bag?” He pointed to her couch where he’d dropped a military-issued duffel.
True to his word, when Stone had returned to Naked Runway , he had transformed into the part of her boyfriend. According to him, Isabella had been briefed on the situation and had assembled a wardrobe for him, complete with a calendar which told him what to wear every day.
Sophie led him to her bedroom and pointed to an empty corner. “You can put it there for now. I’ve never had a guy live with me, so I’ll need to clear out some closet space and a dresser drawer for you.”
“I can live out of a suitcase; it’s standard practice when I’m on assignment.” He glanced around the room, and his gaze landed on a pile of children’s books stacked on her desk. The entire collection of Junie B. Jones.
“Those look a little young for your tastes?” he teased.
“I have a monetized YouTube account where I read bedtime stories to children every night. We’re currently making our way through those. They were my favorite growing up.”
“Monetized?”
“I get a cut of the advertising money that is spent on my page.”
“Smart. I bet you’re good at reading them. You have a personality for bringing book characters alive. Hell, I feel like Miles is a friend after just one evening of our discussing his character.” He continued his exploration of her room and stopped scanning when he saw the painting on the wall above her bed. “‘Never settle for less than the fairytale,’” Stone read aloud.
“My mom painted the sentence right before she brought me home from the hospital as an infant. I just haven’t had the heart to paint over it,” she took a seat on the bed.
He glanced down at her. “Were her and your dad living the fairytale before their deaths?”
“I like to think so, but I don’t remember much.” She picked up her pillow and hugged it. “How often do you go on assignments that require you to move in with a person?”
“Not often anymore. Our focus doesn’t usually require it, although we spend plenty of time staking out locations, waiting for the bad guys to slip up.”
“Focus?” She really didn’t know that much about him outside of his part ownership in a security business with his brothers.
“We retrieve children who have been kidnapped by their noncustodial parents.”
She squeezed the pillow tighter. The thought of a child being kidnapped made her ill. “Is that a common occurrence?”
He sat down next to her, noticeably careful not to touch her in the process. “You’d be surprised. Especially where one parent has dual citizenship.”
She scooted back and leaned against the wall. “Is it dangerous? Do you often find yourself under fire?”
He turned to see her better. “We usually manage without gunfire, but once in a while, things get sketchy and—”
A soft knock interrupted him, the sound abrupt in the quiet apartment.
“And so it begins,” Sophie muttered, quickly rising to answer the door.
He caught her arm, pressing a finger to his lips, then tiptoed to the door to peer through the peephole. “It’s Poppie,” he said in a normal tone.
“I knew that already. I know the sound of his knock.” Sophie went to the door but turned back to look at him before opening it. “Get ready to sell this.” She turned back, twisted the knob, and opened the door. “Hi Poppie. Have you had a good day?”
“It’s been busy.” He pushed past her and came to a stop when he saw Stone. “Damn glad you got rid of that wig. Now you look like a man I can have a drink with. Do you drink? Where in the hell have you been for two months?”
“Work took me away. I’ve missed Sophie like crazy, and I’ve been known to enjoy a good whiskey now and then,” Stone replied.
“Got any with you?” Poppie asked, not looking even a little suspicious.
“Poppie, remember what the doctor said about alcohol and your new meds,” Sophie reminded him gently.
Poppie swore like a sailor. “Damn doctors stripping away all my vices—first they come for my sex life, now my booze. What’s next, no weed?”
Stone came and stood next to Sophie.
The movement distracted Poppie from his rant. “Didn’t expect to see you back here, buddy,” he said, before focusing his gaze on Sophie and frowning. “Were you expecting him back?”
Sophie’s heart skipped a beat, her palms dampening as she searched for the right words, feeling the weight of Poppie’s attention. “Like he said, work called him away.”
Stone extended a hand to Poppie, his smile easy. “Nice to see you again, sir. Sophie speaks very highly of you.”
As Poppie shook Stone’s hand, Sophie watched their interaction closely, her nerves strung tighter than the tension in a romance novel’s black moment. “There was a bit of a mishap at his place…plumbing disaster, and so I told him he could bunk here until his water is back on,” she blurted, the words rushing out before she could think them through.
Poppie’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “Plumbing, huh? That’s rough. Good thing you met a girl with a big heart. Not many would be that generous. If you haven’t noticed, her place ain’t hardly big enough for one, let alone two.”
Sophie laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as forced to their ears as it did to hers. “What are friends for, right? And anyway, it’ll be fun having a nice guy around for a change. A palate cleanser, you might say.”
“Damn straight,” Poppie replied, his gaze shifting between Sophie and Stone. “Well, I guess that means you’ll be staying for dinner. Sophie’s making enchiladas.”
“That's what I heard,” Stone replied, with a warm smile that Sophie found surprisingly genuine. “I’ve offered to help.”
As Poppie settled on the couch, Sophie and Stone shared a quick, conspiratorial glance before moving to the kitchen, which Poppie could completely view.
“That didn’t go too bad,” Sophie whispered as she began pulling ingredients from cabinets. “I was afraid he’d be rougher on you. He can be overly protective.”
“I like him,” Stone whispered back, his closeness sending a shiver down her spine. “I predict we’ll be best friends by the time I’m ready to pack my bags and go back to my own place.”
As they moved around the kitchen preparing dinner, the air between Sophie and Stone crackled like a secret on the verge of being spilled. Sophie reached for the salt at the same moment Stone did, their fingers brushing against each other. The moment they touched, the kitchen lights flickered briefly, casting a quick shadow over the room.
“Whoa, what was that?” Poppie called over the sound of Wheel of Fortune . “You two got too many things going at once in there?”
“Must be,” Stone called out, only a slight frown creasing his brows. A quick, almost imperceptible reaction. His eyes scanned the room briefly, reminding her why he was here. She was in danger.
Poppie chuckled. “Well, just make sure you don’t start any fires with all that static. I’m too old to be running out of burning buildings.”
Sophie swallowed hard, her mind racing with concerns. Who was behind the threat? Were they causing the lighting issues? Would something sinister happen tonight? The idea made her knees weak.
“You okay?” Stone asked. “You’ve gone white.”
“I will be. I’m just still processing.”
Dinner proceeded with light conversation and laughter, but Sophie remained acutely aware of Stone’s presence across the table and the threat lurking in her future.
As they cleared the dishes after their meal, their hands touched again, passing a serving spoon, and once more, a subtle flicker danced through the lights. This time, Stone’s frown was more pronounced, and Sophie caught it immediately.
“Is my stalker playing with me? Is that why the lights keep doing that?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern as Poppie recounted tales from his youth, oblivious to their exchange.
Stone met her gaze, his features softening. “It’s nothing to worry about, Sophie. You’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
Mine. There was that term again. The romance booklover in her wanted to read something into his continued use of it. Something alpha-delicious. Common sense said it had been spoken more along the line of, “You’re my assignment.” That kind of mine .
Nevertheless, hearing him say mine wasn’t awful.
Ugh. She clearly needed to do more work on her psyche to rid it of its toxic desire for that sort of book boyfriend to materialize in her life.
“Promise?” she asked Stone.
“Promise,” he said without hesitation.