Stone: At Your Service (Carolina Bad Boys #1) (13 page)

“
He’s with us.” Fawn went feral in front of me.

Pa
tting Fawn’s shoulder just in case she’d brought one of her girlfriend’s six-shooters to the convention, I said, “It’s okay, I’ll meet y’all in the bar.”

As soon as they cleared the area, Jules looked me over.
“Enough small talk. I just wanted to remind you about the contest. I need you, your bod, your smirk and designer stubble on stage tonight.” Her face dawned with evil delight. “These women want real men who walk the walk and talk the talk, trufax.”

She shoved a sheaf of papers at me and
marched off.

“
Ma’am!”

Her back snapped straight but she didn
’t turn around.

“
Sorry, miss. Miss Gem, could you wait a second?”

She pivoted around and returned.
“That’s better. Never call me ma’am again. I assume you’ve heard of my rep? It’s not all convention gossip. What do you need?”

“
Isn’t this a cover model competition?”

“
That doesn’t matter, you’re purrrrfect. We’re keeping with the RAWRing Twenties theme. Instead of Guys ’n’ Dolls, we’re doing Guys with Balls. And you, Stone”—she flicked my lanyard—“have ’em.”

She wheeled away while I glanced at the papers in my hand.
Guys with Balls: Questionnaire
.
Favorite place to kiss a woman?
Lemme think about that. The cheek. Yeah, that would work with my gay persona. But to be honest, it was Leelee’s soft round ass cheeks I was thinking about as I scanned the rest of the questions.

The papers crammed in my
fist, I made my way to the bar and almost mowed Fred over as I entered. They’d gotten as far as the back of house and no farther. Felicity captured my hand and pointed at the bar. She jumped up and down on the balls of her feet like the kid did when he needed to take a piss but couldn’t be bothered to go all the way to the bathroom.

“
Fangirl squee!” Her
squee
pierced my eardrum and she gripped my hand so hard she almost broke bones.

The guys
and
dolls erupted into squeals, giggles, manly mumbo jumbo that went in one ear and out the other as I peered through the packed bodies to the bar. Whaddya know? They were flipping out over Leelee.

Fawn sidled over.
“Do you know who that is, Stone?”

You bet your
sweet ass I do.
Leelee sat at the bar, a half-glugged glass of white wine in front of her . . . and unshed tears sparkling on her eyelashes.
Aw, shit.
Her mopey face was about a million times worse than the kid’s.

“
Give me a minute. I’ll see if I can introduce you all to Leelee.” I wasn’t about to bring the wound-up Widows to her if she wasn’t prepared to play the game.

Shouldering
to the bar, I came up beside her. I gently ran a finger along her neck. “Leelee?”

One tear dropped onto the napkin she
’d been folding and unfolding in front of her. “Stone.”

“
If this is a bad time, I can go away, but there’s a bunch of people over there—” I hooked a finger over my shoulder. The gang saw it and waved in response.

Her w
et green eyes slid past me to the doors. “Fans of Stone?”

“
Actually, they’re your fans. They just about burst my eardrums when they saw you.” Pride filled my chest as soon as a slow smile washed away the sadness on her face.

“
For me?”

“
They’re dying to say hi.”

“
Okay. Just give me a sec.”

After she
’d prettied up a face that was already drop-dead gorgeous, I wrangled the Widows over to her. The brilliant smile she gave each of them in turn as she shook their hands and signed whatever the hell they shoved at her really made me want to take her in my arms and kiss her.

We hung out
with her through a round of drinks. The room filled with laughter while Leelee’s eyes lit with happiness. She charmed every one of them just as she did me. Leelee didn’t need to worry about not being able to cut her own path or do her own thing. She just needed to be herself.

And fucking hell, my heart squeezed tight.

One by one, the Widows filtered away. I waved them off with a, “Yeah, I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

Silence descended as soon as they left and I realized I hadn
’t seen Leelee since my masturbation muck-up earlier in the day.
Ah, so this is a WTF moment.
I ordered a second beer, another wine for Leelee, thinking about all the ways this could be imminently awkward, but hey, at least my vocab had skyrocketed being around all these writers.

“
Hey,” I said.
Or maybe not so much with the brainiac vocabulary.

“
Thank you.”

“
For what?”
For busting my cock out in front of you? Don’t mention it.

“
For putting me at ease with your friends. Other people make me so frazzled. You have a way of relaxin’ me.”

Well,
good. Too bad she does the opposite to me.
Standing beside her, being near her, ideas of everything we could get up to jolted through my body.

“
They were nice,” she added.

“
I think they’re nuts. Besides, how good you were with them didn’t have a damn thing to do with me.”

Leelee
’s hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, and I wanted to tangle my fingers in it, follow the curled ends to her skin beneath. Instead I slapped my hand on top of the bar, crumpling the papers Jules had given me.

“
What’s that?”

Groaning, I dropped my head to the bar.
“Guys with Balls entry form and shit.”

“
But you’re not a cover model.”

I peered up from my arms.
“That’s what I said. So you’d better be there later.”

She spun to
ward me with a breathtaking smile. “You got it, hot stuff.”

Framing her face in one hand, I ran a thumb over her lowered eyelashes that had glinted
earlier. “The tears before, they weren’t because of me, were they?”

She shook her head.

“Because I’m sorry you saw me, heard me . . .” I jerked my hand away and flipped the beermat up until it twirled on its corner. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly.”

“
Probably not, Stone.” She drained her glass. “But it was so damn hot.”

Oh Christ.

DOWN BOY, JESUS!

Four deep breaths and
one telling off to my cock later, I tried to make my voice work. “That bastard agent hasn’t been at you again, has he?”

She nodded
, setting off fierce instincts that had never been at work for a woman before.

“
Tell me what he’s done now,” I gnashed out.

“
He came at me during the self-publishing panel I was on—Surfing the Perfect Wave. His questions put me on the spot. I couldn’t answer because I was so flustered, and what I did manage to get out just made me sound stupid. It was like bein’ under interrogation.” Her skin paled. “He knows how hard it is for me to be up behind the table, fielding questions.”

An unreleased sob rolled through her body
, and I just wanted to be there for her. Not Stone. Not fake-gay. But as a man for his woman.

“
. . . and I have writer’s block and he’s right! I’m already twenty-seven and destined to be a failure. I can’t do this on my own, and . . .”

I gathered her in my arms
. “You’re not doing it on your own, babe. You’ve got Janice and Jacqueline and Missy. You’ve got Nicky. You’ve got thousands of fans and friends.” I brushed her tears away. “You’ve got me.”

“
No, I don’t.” She sniffed

I jumped onto that shit like a lifeline, albeit one that could tangle around me and drag me under.
“Do you want to? Have me?”

“
Stone . . .”

It seemed like she did. But she couldn
’t. Just like I couldn’t tell her all I wanted to do was be with her, show her I was just a southern boy, a single dad, a car mechanic trying to provide a good home for his baby boy.

“
It’s Josh. My first name. Josh Stone, but we’re trying to keep it under wraps.”

One sodden napkin later, Leelee sent me flirty eyes.
“Josh Stone, at your service?”

“
Somethin’ like that.”

“
In that case, Leelee Childes, from Shreveport.” Holding her hand out, she smiled at me.

My fingers
slid from her palm to her wrist as I bought her hand to my mouth for a soft brush of my lips. “Pleased to meet you, Leelee Childes from Shreveport.” I released her fingers with another slow slide.

I took a
swig from my beer bottle. I might not be able to tell her the whole truth, yet, but I could tell her some of it. I started unbuttoning the top of my shirt.

Her gaze
flicked to my fingers. “You’re not gonna practice for Guys with Balls now, are you?”

I chuckled.
“No, babe. I have something I want to show you. It’s about my tattoo.”

Sitting back, she tugged
in her bottom lip and let it out. “Then by all means, don’t keep that under wraps.”

I glanced up from under my lashes, taking in her swollen lip, so ripe for a kiss. Holding the
shirt collar open over my shoulder, pec, and tat, I was really glad the Hens weren’t around to molest me. Or tweet me.

Leelee
’s fingers hovered above my skin before pressing softly onto the heart surrounded by twisted chrome pipes. “It really is gorgeous.” Her husky voice flooded me with a now-familiar ache.

Chills
raced over my chest from one simple touch. Just when I wanted to press her fingers harder to the heart, my heart that had only held the kid for so long, Leelee withdrew her hand and dropped it to her lap.

“
Who’s Joshua James?”

“
My kid. Joshua James. Josh for me and James for my dad.” My throat was raw from emotion. “My dad died nine years ago.”

“
I’m so sorry about your father. I don’t know what I’d do without mine.” She let her fingers glance across the tattoo once more before drifting away. “Your son, huh? So how did that work?”

“
There was a woman. We were married for a couple years.”
Thirty-one motherfuckin’ months to be precise.

Leelee
drew back, eyeing her wine, the bar, the door. “So, you’re like Patrick.”

It wasn
’t a question, it was an accusation, no doubt aided and abetted by hearing me grunt her name when I came all over my hand, chest, belly . . .

“
No, it’s not like that. I’m not like that. I’d never do that to you, Leelee.” I wasn’t bisexual, I wasn’t bro-sexual. I was a one hundred percent pure hetero male who wanted to nail her on top of the bar right now. I groaned. “It’s not like that.”

“
What was it like then, Josh? Because I don’t get it.” At least she stayed seated on the bar stool instead of bolting for the door.

“
Claire, my ex, got pregnant just about four years ago, and we got married. I’d do anything to make sure the kid had a good, solid home. She never really took to the
until death do us part
bit. She had some problems after JJ was born, couldn’t handle being a wife or a mother, and she left us. I never heard from her again. The divorce became final last year. She deserted JJ, signed it all away as soon as the papers were served.”

A heavy stone sat in my chest as I confessed
as much as I could. Maybe I should’ve tried harder with Claire, done more.

“
That’s horrible.” Leelee swung back toward me.

“
It’s not. It really isn’t. Claire wasn’t a bad woman. She just wasn’t my woman.” I shrugged. “I’m a much better dad now that I don’t have to worry about her and . . .” I stopped, really thinking about it. “It’s been horrible for JJ, though. He still has nightmares, worries about me taking off and never coming home.”

“
But he has Nicky too, right?” She skimmed one hand up and down my arm.

My smile was forced
because I didn’t know what I’d say if she started asking about our relationship. He was a huge part of the kid’s life, but as Uncle Wicky, not Daddy Number Two. “Yeah. Nicky stepped up.”

“
So, that explains it.” She propped her cheek against one hand as she peered at me.

“
Yeah. Wait, explains what?”

“
Is that . . .?” She hesitated. “After Claire left, you and Nicky, is that why you’re with him? Trust issues with women?”