Chapter 40
[Stone]
Holy shit.
I blink, trying to make sense of what just happened.
We made love, I have no doubt about it. Yet I also realized I’ve never done what we just did. I can hardly explain it to myself. The way she moved. The way I responded. Following her lead and almost telling her—
A blaring bleat vibrates my phone against the storage box behind my head, and Taxi and I both flinch. She’s collapsed on my chest, her hair wild and draped everywhere. My hand is flat on her back. I’m not certain I can move a limb.
I don’t want to move.
But the annoying sound continues to rhythmically blast.
“What is that?” Taxi laughs, burying her face in my chest.
“I set an alarm, so I get the princess home before the carriage becomes a pumpkin.”
She lifts her head, eyes bright with color but sated. “You’re really up on your fairy tales.”
I shrug. “I’ve got more nieces than nephews.” Plus, I’d been reading fairy tales to Vale forever.
Slowly, Taxi peels herself off me.
Not yet, I want to shout. Just a few more minutes. But then I’ll want a few more, and a few more. And she needs to go.
I tug up my pants as she reaches for her dress. With my pants in place, but not fastened, I take the dress from her, wanting to do the honors.
“Up,” I nod for her arms to lift, and I spread the material to cover her. Sitting above me, breasts spilling from this dress, the skirt hitched to her hips, she was a fucking vision. A downright goddess.
She’s still just as lovely as I take my time to tuck each one of the buttons through the holes. I love how innocent the dress looks, knowing the woman underneath is a queen.
I snapped her ponytail holder, so her hair remains a wild, dark halo around her head.
“Where’s my bra?” She giggles, knowing I tossed it aside. I find it and stuff it in my back pocket.
She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t comment.
While she steps into her underwear, I hold out my hand to help steady her, then I put my shirt back on.
The air has cooled considerably. A few minutes ago, I wouldn’t have noticed. I didn’t feel a thing other than the snug fit of her around me. Her knees around my hips. Her hands on my chest. All Taxi. Only Taxi.
Together, we blow out the candles. The containers are too hot to stuff back in the larger storage box, so I set them in the original plastic container I had inside the truck chest and set the container at the edge of the tailgate once we are ready to drive Taxi home.
I’d really like to bring her to take her to my home, lay her down in my bed, and wrap around her, like I did that first week after she arrived. When she was put in my path again.
With her hand in mine, settled on my thigh, I drive her home, understanding her need to stick close to her aunt. At least for a little while longer.
When we get to Trudy’s house, I step out of the truck and walk Taxi to the front door.
“I had a good time tonight.” I sound lame. I had a phenomenal time. I didn’t want it to end, but I’m not a man of words.
Her mouth slowly curls at the corner. “I had a good time, too.” Her silver eyes flicker in the pale glow from the porch light.
Yeah, good doesn’t describe the night for me either.
“So, how’d I do?” I ask next, like I’m a rating scale. “For a first date?” First one I’ve had in years. Might even be my last first date ever.
“First everything,” Taxi whispers, and I reach for her jaw, cupping the edge of her face.
“First everything,” I repeat. “Want to do it again?” Another date. Another night like this one.
“Again and again and again.” With each repetition, her voice falls quieter.
“Good,” I whisper, that damn word once more.
I decide to stop talking and just kiss her, soft and sweet, like a front porch kiss should be. But also achingly sad, because we’re going to part for the night.
Suddenly, the porch light flickers on and off. On and off.
Taxi pulls back, glares at the light, and tucks her head into my chest. I watch the lights flip again.
“What the . . .”
“I might have told Trudy about your porch light scenario. She caught me swooning over you one night after you left.”
“Swooning,” I chuckle, still watching the lights blink.
“I’d fallen against the door, a little dazed after you kissed me one night.”
I lean closer, curious. “Which night?”
“All of them,” she whispers, but as the light flickers once more—on, off, on, off—Taxi grumbles. “Guess I better go. I wonder what Trudy is even doing up so late.”
We made it here by midnight. Not a pumpkin in sight.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and a woman shouts, “Got you.”
Taxi lets out a scream.
The woman behind the screen door screams.
Then Taxi is out of my arms and through the door, hugging the other woman, rocking her side to side.
“Jolene Amaryllis Wallace, what are you doing here?” Taxi addresses the woman I now realize is her youngest sister.
“It’s a long story,” Jolene says, blowing out a breath. She’s just as beautiful as her sister but in a different way. More curves. Less curls.
Taxi glances back at me. “Jolene, this is Stone Sylver. Do you remember him?”
The younger woman holds out her hand. “Oh, I remember him. Had the biggest crush on you as a kid.”
“What?” Taxi says, snapping her head in her sister’s direction, practically growling.
“Thank you?” I hesitate, feeling my face heat.
“Stone and I were—”
“Just kissing on the front stoop,” Jolene teases, leaning against the open front door and giving me a wink similar to her sister’s.
“I was going to say coming home from the Founder’s Day dance. How’s Aunt Trudy?” Taxi glances around her sister like she expects her aunt to be nearby.
“She was asleep when I got here. Scared the bejesus out of me.”
“You mean, you scared the bejesus out of her. You’ll give her another heart attack,” Taxi chides.
Jolene waves her hand like that isn’t possible, and I smile at the scrunched nose and pursed lips she gives me. “Not Trudy. Her heart is too strong.”
That’s what we’d all like to think. That love makes our hearts strong enough to withstand anything, but we’re only human. Other factors come into play where our bodies are concerned.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it,” Jolene says, waving toward the front step but not making a move to close the front door or give Taxi and me more privacy.
Taxi looks at me, her expression apologetic.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she says, before glancing at her sister, and then back at me. She mouths, I’m sorry.
She has nothing to apologize for and nothing to thank me for either.
I’m the grateful one tonight.
This evening has been . . . everything.
For the next week, Taxi and I don’t see much of each other. I’m focused on that case with the shoe that was found near the falls, a child who was still missing from the area. And Taxi takes extra time to spend with her sister.
But after our fourth phone call about Taxi and Jolene bickering over the littlest things, I suggested Taxi take a break and meet me for lunch. I’ve been working on something for her anyway, and I’m ready to share it with her.
We plan to meet at the diner for lunch. They serve the perfect grilled cheese with tomato soup.
As I’m early, I already have a seat in a booth toward the back when Taxi tosses herself on the bench seat across from me.
A sharp huff exits her, and I chuckle. “You alright?”
“Define alright. I’m always confused. Is it one word or two?”
I chuff. “What’s wrong?” Jolene has been at the heart of Taxi’s frustrations this week.
“If I thought taking care of Trudy was exhausting, now I have Jolene to contend with. And while living room campouts were fun as kids, they are not fun as adults.”
Taxi goes into a long tirade about her sister and their fight over the use of the couch.
“Like I want to be couch surfing at my age. Playing eenie-meenie-miney-moe to see who gets that lumpy old thing.”
She sighs heavily and waves a heavy hand. “I get it. We probably have unresolved issues from our childhood. Some psychology book somewhere has a case study about us.”
“Really?” I ask, a bit surprised.
Taxi shakes her head. “I’m being dramatic. I’m learning from Jolene.” She squints, looking out the window at her side.
“It’s just . . . she’s my sister. And I love her. I do.” She glances back at me. “But she can just get under my skin.”
I snort, knowing exactly what she means. Sebastian was never easy. Ford was so determined. Judd closed in on himself. Even Knox could be evasive. Only Clay and Vale were the open ones.
“And I try to be understanding.” Her voice lowers. “Our mother is in jail. Killed their father.” She whispers. “I only ever had Mama, but she took their daddy, too.”
From what I remember, her sisters were pretty young when their dad died. I don’t know how strong their memories of either parent might be. Vale certainly has none of our mother; Sebastian and Ford both admit their memories of her are weak.
Trudy and Carlton Wallace are the only parental figures they’ve known, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t without their own personal trauma. Hurt and frustration that only they understand.
“We aren’t close,” Taxi admits. “But we do stay in touch. When we can. When we have cell service. I try to stay in touch with them.”
She rolls her eyes. Apparently, this must be an excuse for a lack of communication. However, there are places that still don’t have the best service.
And I understand again. Taxi wanted to keep her sisters close, maybe. Keep tabs on them. Make them feel like they have her. Whether that’s to ease the unnecessary guilt she harbors or because she truly wants a relationship doesn’t matter. It’s most likely both.
“Ugh.” Taxi leans forward and presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. “And I’m trying to be so good for Aunt Trudy.” Her voice is thick; watery but resolute.
“Taxi,” I say slowly. “Take a deep breath.”
She keeps her eyes closed, elbows on the table, and blows harshly from her lips.