Chapter 24 Coco
Coco
Stone acted weird last night. He kept looking at me like I had a confession tattooed on my forehead. Like at any second, I’d reveal a truth he was already braced to hear.
But he didn’t say anything.
Then he acted even stranger this morning—burning the eggs, forgetting to feed Hercules until I pointed it out—and I haven’t been able to shake this sinking feeling that he knows.
Which means it’s time to fess up.
When I reach the construction site, work is in full swing.
My eyes pop wide as I take in everything that’s been accomplished in a short period of time.
The limecrete has been repoured. Beams have been erected.
The structure looks like an actual building and not a weird skeleton sitting in the middle of a plot of dirt.
Soon as I park, I see Stone talking with the guys, giving orders. Isaac and Ron nod before moving off. Stone spots me, and one side of his mouth curves in a way that makes my stomach quiver.
I kill the engine and climb out. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself,” he says, crossing over. “Glad you could come.”
“Of course. I love seeing how it’s turning out.”
“The ley lines look good, don’t you think?”
They pulse with power. “They do.”
Stone watches me. I watch back. My stomach jumps off a diving board.
“So, I . . .”
“About last night—” he says at the same time.
We each pause for the other.
“You go first,” I say.
He cocks his chin. “Coco, you don’t have to tell me. I figured it out. I mean, the kiss we shared the other night should have been a huge hint. Right, Hercules?”
What?
Beside him, Hercules bleats up at me with narrowed eyes, like I did something to piss him off.
Stone, on the other hand, squints like he’s remembering the kiss, and my God, we haven’t even discussed it. We should. It was mind-blowing.
“It was really great,” I admit.
“Are you blushing?”
He leans in and I wave him off. “I’m not blushing.”
“Yes, you are. You are absolutely red.” He touches my cheek. “It’s adorable. Keep doing it.”
I shake my head and he runs a finger down my arm, sending shivers spiraling to the ends of my hands and feet.
The mood instantly shifts, becoming surprisingly intimate, given that there’s loud construction equipment surrounding us. A vehicle reverses, its horn blaring as it backs up.
He shifts his weight back and forth as if contemplating what to say next. Finally, he decides on, “I don’t remember the man I was, but I want to be the man you need.”
My throat shrivels to the size of a pin. I’m not ready for that sentence. It feels like he reached straight through my ribs, wrapped his hand around my heart, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“That kiss we shared . . .” He brushes a finger over my cheek. “There’s a lot that’s wrong in my life right now, a lot I’m trying to sort through. But you don’t feel like one of those things, and I know why.”
He takes my hands and studies them, like he’s learning me, knuckle by knuckle.
Oh, God. I want to die. All of this is because of me, and he needs to know it. I’ve got to tell him. Now. Before he falls for me. Before I fall even harder for him.
Stop—even?
Is my inner monologue suggesting I’ve already fallen? Of course it is. Has it seen the way Stone holds Hercules? Even the lambicorn is in love with him. And I’m pretty sure I’m next.
He rubs his thumbs gently over the tops of my hands. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”
“Wait. You said that you know why I don’t feel like one of the wrong things. Why is that?”
“Nah. Go ahead. We’ll get to me.”
I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can tell him. Just like ripping off a bandage—right?
But it’s not like ripping off a bandage, because this one is covered in feelings. I can’t have Stone kissing me, thinking I’m wonderful when I’m the cause of his grief. It’s time for him to know the truth.
No matter how much he’ll hate me because of it.
I try to open my mouth, and it feels like my lips are superglued shut. He’ll hate me. He’ll walk away. He’ll never speak to me again.
It’s a risk that’s worth taking.
I clear my throat. “The other day, when you hit your head—”
A shiny black SUV rumbles onto the construction site, kicking up a storm of dirt behind it. The windows are tinted so dark it’s impossible to see inside. Who could this be?
I pull away from Stone. He clocks the movement, his eyes dipping to my hand before he pushes on his hard hat and prepares to greet his guest.
My mind races. Is it Pane, back from his honeymoon? Is he going to see the site and blow a gasket?
The door opens and a driver in a black suit gets out and opens the rear door.
Out steps a man—he’s tall, with broad shoulders and wavy brown hair. He scans the site and then fixes his gaze on Stone, his expression grim as death.
“Cousin,” he says, shaking Stone’s hand. “Good to see you.”
Stone plays this so cool. If you didn’t know he had amnesia, you’d never guess. He smiles, his eyes warm, whereas his cousin’s gaze is as cold as a steel blade frozen inside an iceberg.
Once they shake, Stone turns to me. “This is Coco. Coco, this is my cousin.”
“Rhett,” he murmurs, taking my hand, knuckles up, and holding it briefly before releasing it.
Knuckles up? This man was taught how to shake a woman’s hand. And his name is Rhett? It suddenly feels like I’ve wandered onto the set of Gone with the Wind and I’m the underdressed extra.
Talk about Southern gentility.
Trying to save Stone, I say, “I didn’t know you had a Southern cousin.”
“South Carolina,” Rhett tells me. “There’s a small smattering of us Maddoxes there.” He turns back to Stone. “I’ve come to see how my investment’s going. From the looks of it, I’ve only got one question.”
“What’s that?” Stone asks.
Rhett’s face scrunches in anger. “What happened to the resort?”