Of Stone and Sky

by Charissa Stastny

  He picked me up and set me on the desk, and my legs wrapped around him. Who knows how long we kissed, or why we did. I’d told him we should keep things professional. So what was I freaking doing?

  I pushed him away, though I wanted to pull him closer. “We can’t do this.” Although kissing him was all I wanted to do. “We need to stay friends only. Kissing only when required.” This couldn’t last. Duke would make certain of that.

  “To me, kissing is always required.” He cradled my face, still breathing heavy.

  I steeled myself against his charm and pushed his hands off me. “This isn’t real.” Even if I wanted it to be.

  The desire to sob almost paralyzed me, but I managed to grab my satchel and head out the door.

  41

  Lincoln

  Gemma didn’t speak on the drive home. I’d crossed the line she’d firmly drawn between us, but I wouldn’t apologize. The way she’d kissed me back had told me all I needed to know. Gemma might push me away and say she wanted only friendship, but that was a lie. She was scared and didn’t trust that my feelings were real.

  I would prove her wrong.

  She avoided eye contact as she climbed out of the Jag, not waiting for me to open her door. I blocked her before she could escape inside. She wasn’t getting off the hook that easy.

  “I know you liked that kiss as much as I did.”

  She blushed and looked down. I took advantage of that to pull her in by the waist.

  “Lincoln,” she said, “don’t do this.”

  “Don’t make you uncomfortable so you have to admit the truth?” I rubbed her moist lips she’d just licked.

  She winced.

  “Why don’t you trust me?” I asked.

  “Trust has nothing to do with it. You’re a good man. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  “As if you could ever do that.”

  “You don’t know me at all,” she said.

  “I want to. I want to know everything there is to know about you. When did your parents die? How long have you been on your own? What are the names of your cars. They definitely can’t be as embarrassing as mine.” I caressed her cheek. “Where’s your favorite place to be kissed?”

  I grinned as her cheeks turned crimson.

  “We can’t kiss again, Lincoln.” Tears filled her eyes, and the smile slid from my face.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll take things slow. We don’t have to go through with the wedding if it’s stressing you out.” Which obviously it was. “Gramps will be okay.”

  “No. We’re going through with it. EcoCore needs the money. And I don’t want to disappoint Gramps. I just don’t want to complicate everything with physical affection.”

  I stroked her cheek, and Gemma melted into me. But then she jerked away.

  “Trust me, this is for your own good.” She slipped inside to find her brother.

  I trusted her. But keeping distance between us wasn’t good for me at all. Why couldn’t she see that?

  42

  Saemira

  Age 17 - Farmington Hills, Michigan

  FUGITIVE: a person who flees or escapes; a wanderer.

  Dust filled the long dirt path to where Saemira now lived. She’d sworn to never live apart from her brother, but within a week of Baba’s death, the authorities had taken Altin away, saying he’d be given to a family that could care for him. She’d been given to another. The Barbers. Kent and Kay treated her as an enlisted soldier, and her life boiled down to a monotonous routine of chores and more chores.

  There were five other foster kids with her. She was the oldest at seventeen and shared a room with a white girl named Terri, who smoked. Two other girls, Molly and Desiree, shared another room. Two boys shared a room downstairs—a nine-year-old Hispanic kid named Jose and eleven-year-old Rich. They were quiet and kept to themselves. They all did. Kent and Kay gave extra chores if you opened your mouth.

  Saemira watched the dust trail grow, hope rising as she tried to identify the driver. The authorities had confiscated her phone early on. Foster kids didn’t get any rights or belongings, at least not any that came with a monthly bill.

  The gray car took the corner by the clump of willows fast. She jumped off her bed and ran downstairs. Just in case.

  Kay stood on the porch, hands on her bony hips. Saemira tensed behind her as a battered car screeched to a stop.

  “Come on,” Engjell called out the window. He wore a beanie over his head and a neckerchief over the bottom of his face, but she still recognized him.

  Kay cursed as Saemira shoved past her. “Stop!” she hollered.

  Saemira jumped into the rear seat and shut the door as Engjell turned the car around and headed back the way he’d come. Faster than hell.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said, climbing over the seat. “Kay’s likely calling the cops.” Her heart beat triple speed, making her wonder if she was having a heart attack. If so, at least she was with someone who loved her. She hit Engjell’s arm and laughed. “Took you long enough.”

  “Excuse me for not understanding how things are done in America.” His strong accent made her smile. “It took time to figure out where they’d taken you and Altin.”

  Hearing her brother’s name made her deflate. “Did you find him?”

  He placed a hand on hers. “He’s down south in a town called Plymouth.” He pointed to her feet. “Get the map. Tell me where to go.”

  A little later, they found the house where Altin supposedly lived. Her stomach churned at the thought of breaking the law. But families shouldn’t be torn apart.

  Luck was with them. A teen girl swung a baby out on a swing in an unfenced yard.

  “Is that him?” Engjell asked as he parked across the street.

  “One way to find out.” Saemira strolled into the neighbor’s yard, hopping the three-foot fence halfway back. Bushes hid her as she peeked out at a blond girl who held her giggling brother.

  She jumped out, making the girl scream. “Give me my brother.”

  The girl tightened her grip on Altin. “He’s not yours.”

  Saemira pounced, pulling at the white girl’s hair as she wrestled Altin from her arms. Once she had her brother, she stomped on the girl’s arm and took off.

  Engjell peeled out when she climbed inside, leaving Plymouth in their dust as they drove to who knows where. Saemira didn’t care. She had her brother. That’s all that mattered. She sang to Altin and kept kissing his cute cheeks. He’d grown in the weeks they’d been apart.

  Engjell stopped outside another town. “The policia will be looking for this car. I bought this one for cash.” He pointed at a white car, way more beat up than the stolen one.

  She hugged him. They were fugitives, but smart ones.

  They switched cars and drove for several more hours before Engjell pulled over in a wooded area to sleep.

  “It might be a week before the university calls the authorities about me missing. I went to classes until the end so I’d have internet to find where you guys were being held.”

  Altin had fallen asleep. Saemira climbed over the seat to talk with her friend. “You were brilliant. Thanks for rescuing us. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

  He reached for her hand. “I’ll always take care of you.” He pulled something from the glove box.

  “My black light.” She caressed the old gift they’d played with as children. “You still have it?”

  “You said to return it when I came here someday.”

  She touched the light. Things were different now than when they’d lived in Albania. She was scared and hungry, thrilled and lost. She didn’t know how she’d take care of Altin or keep the police from finding them, but she couldn’t ask for a better companion on this wild ride.

  She hugged Engjell, grateful not to be alone any longer.

  Gemma

  Stroking my baby brother’s head, I kissed him goodnight and turned to check the mirror. The orange and yell
ow blouse with flared sleeves was gorgeous. I rubbed Mama’s amulet.

  “Please tell me what to do,” I whispered.

  For the last five days, I’d managed to avoid or only have minimal contact with Lincoln. I’d still seen him. We lived in the same house, for peanut butter’s sake. But I’d kept Altin close or I’d locked myself in my room to study Popular Mechanics. I’d jumped at chances to hang out with his mom. But my head, heart, and body were in an all-out war. My head said to hold steady. Keep the friends-only line firmly in place between us. My body wanted to attack Lincoln, kiss him long and hard to eradicate that stupid boundary. My heart tried to compromise, knowing there was danger in caring for him, but recognizing it was already too late. Maybe his feelings were true. Maybe we could make this work.

  But not unless I came clean.

  Lincoln needed to know the truth, even if he hated me for it.

  I left my room and bumped into him at the top of the staircase. “Oh, hey,” I said.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Is this new?” He tugged at my sleeve.

  “Your mom made me buy it.”

  He grinned. “You’re the only girl I know who’s made to buy anything.”

  “It was expensive.”

  He pulled me closer, making my legs go all limp-noodle. “Stop stressing about money. I promise that even if Angeline wins the lawsuit, I have enough to live on. We’ll be okay.”

  I didn’t worry about that. Buying expensive clothes just made me feel guilty since he’d lost millions to Duke because of me. I knew I could buy them for a fraction of the cost at a thrift shop.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said. No more hiding the truth.

  “Same, but let’s go outside.” He led me out the French doors and into the backyard.

  I paused on the patio. What in the world?

  Hundreds, maybe thousands, of twinkle lights covered the entire backyard.

  “Holy heavens,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Like you.” He tugged me to the back corner where a trickling waterfall fell into rocks.

  “Who put up all these lights? And why?”

  “I’ve helped the ground crew put them up for the last three days while you’ve been hiding from me.”

  I blushed. Why had I thought he wouldn’t notice my avoidance tactics?

  “And this is why.” He knelt on the grass and pulled out a black jeweler’s box.

  I covered my mouth as he opened the lid to reveal the most stunning ring I’d ever seen. A tear-drop bluish-purple stone that matched Mama’s amulet was set in a gold-filigreed band.

  “Gemma Ann Stone, the last time I asked you to marry me, it was a joke. I needed your help to save face and not lose Wilder’s support.”

  I wrinkled my nose, hating the reminder of the dangerous game we played.

  He pulled the diamond monstrosity off my finger. “But today, I’m asking for real.” He slid the gorgeous new gemstone onto my finger. “This is Tanzanite. The jeweler said it’s a thousand times rarer than diamonds. There’s only an estimated thirty-year supply left in the world. It’s unique and one of a kind, like you.” He squeezed my hand. “I don’t care about Wilder’s money or fulfilling Gramp’s last wish. I only care about you. Will you marry me and be my wife, in every sense of the word? I absolutely do not want an annulment. I love you.”

  I pulled my hand away, tears pricking my eyes, guilt pricking my heart. “I’m not worthy. Seriously. You own your own company. I barely graduated from high school.”

  He put a finger to my lips. “You own my heart, Gemma. You’re precious and wonderful, and I cannot bear to live life without you.”

  “But Altin?”

  “I’ll adopt him. I love him, too. Please accept my heart. It’s all yours. Marry me.”

  “Are you serious?” If he adopted Altin, my brother would be safe. Did I dare tell him the truth now? What if he hated me…and Altin, too? Maybe I should wait until my brother was legally his before spilling my secrets. If he hated me then, I would disappear from his life. But my brother would have a dad to care for him.

  “Completely. Didn’t confessing my Jeep’s silly name prove that to you?” He pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “I want to share my mind and heart with you. Build our dreams together. I want to name our cars together. Have babies together. I want to grow old with you by my side, watching our babies’ babies grow up as we argue about the weather.”

  I laughed, caught up in his vision. It was everything I wanted, my girlish fantasies of true love put into words.

  He pulled me close and kissed me hard. I buried my head in his neck, breathing in his spicy cologne, wanting him to kiss me again.

  “Please say yes.”

  What else could I say? His sweet words and kisses still had me floating above the clouds. “Yes,” I said, pulling him closer. “How about we tie the knot tomorrow?” As planned.

  Lincoln chuckled and worked his wonderful magic on me again, kissing me deeply and reverently with all his heart. And for that moment, I gave him my heart as well, wishing I could give it to him forever.

  43

  Lincoln

  My heart rejoiced as I savored Gemma’s mouth, her lips, the velvety soft skin on her cheeks. She’d said yes!

  This wasn’t a game any longer.

  I buried my head in her luscious neck, feeling grateful for this amazing woman who’d transformed my life. After Angeline, I’d kept my distance from women, fearing I’d be manipulated by one again. I’d fought against my attraction to Gemma but had come to realize she was nothing like my ex. Thank God. Angeline had been a master at telling me what I’d wanted to hear, even while carrying on an affair with her current husband behind my back for over a year. But Gemma—dear, sweet, wonderful Gemma—was genuine. She didn’t lie or give me half-truths. She told it as it was, and I loved her for that.

  I caressed her hair, before pulling away and clasping hands. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.” Something I had believed impossible only a few short months ago. I gave her a firm kiss on the lips and tugged her toward the house. “Come. There’s something else I want to show you.”

  We walked beneath the canopy of lights, and I led her inside and up the stairs, wondering what her reaction would be to my surprise. Would she like it?

  She bit her lips as we entered my master suite. I’d never brought her here before, not wanting to push boundaries we hadn’t yet mapped out. But she would be my wife in less than sixteen hours. The boundaries seemed firmly in place.

  We would stand together.

  “You have doors,” she said, glancing into my bathroom.

  I laughed. “Absolutely. If someone has money, they should put doors everywhere.”

  She giggled.

  I pulled her over to my bed and gestured to the large silver gift. “Open it.”

  “It’s so beautiful. I hate to unwrap it.”

  “What’s inside is more beautiful.” At least, I hoped she thought so.

  She gave me an impish smile, before carefully unwrapping the box. When she lifted the lid, she put a hand to her heart. “Whoa. Is this...?”

  “Your wedding dress.”

  She turned to stare at me, then lifted the gown out. “I thought Casey dropped off my dress yesterday.”

  “That was the one you hated. I’m hoping you love this one.”

  A sigh escaped her as I led her into the bathroom so she could hold the dress up to the mirror.

  “How?” She ran a hand down the Egyptian-style gown.

  “I sent a screen shot from your phone to a tailor I know. He’ll be here in the morning to make adjustments since he guessed at your dimensions by using another dress of yours.”

  She caressed the bedazzled neckline. “Are you okay with this? I know—”

  “I’m boring?”

  “No.” She smirked. “I only called you that to annoy you. I actually find you appallingly sexy in a suit. And naming your Jeep Princess Genevieve made you ten times sexier.” />
  I laughed. Her excitement was contagious. She’d never cared about the gown Casey had chosen, and for good reason. That’d been made for a socialite wannabe like Angeline.

  “Seriously, though.” Worry lines formed between her eyes. “This thumbs its nose at convention.” She caressed the gown and hesitantly set it on the counter. “I’ll wear the other one. I know how much your image means to you.”

  “Absolutely not.” I shuddered. Gemma’s unparalleled beauty came from confidence in her uniqueness. And this dress was distinctive. I’d scoffed at first, thinking it more costume than gown. But Gemma would shine in it tomorrow. I didn’t want her to be anyone but who she really was. I placed the dress back in her hands. “I went to a ton of trouble to have this made for you.” I reached for the beaded headpiece I’d hung by the shower. “Let’s see this on you.” I placed the tiara on her head.

  “By the gods,” she murmured, seeming almost as stunned as I was at her reflection.

  “You are definitely a goddess.” I winked. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s spectacular. Even better than the one on my Pinterest board.” She held the gown up to her body.

  “You are indeed spectacular.”

  Gemma wrapped her arms around me, kissing me hard. I reciprocated, smashing the gown between us, eager to make this woman my wife tomorrow.

  Gemma did indeed shine like the sun on our wedding day as she exited from the back of the St. Regis hotel and began the march up the aisle to meet me. Gramps escorted her, and they smiled at each other as they slowly stepped to the wedding march.

  Joe and Janey and their two whirlwinds grinned up at me from the first row of guests. Bless Joe for having the foresight to stop me months ago from making the biggest mistake of my life by firing Gemma. The Wilders sat next to them. Bless him also for pushing us into an engagement. My parents sat at the end. Mom beamed up at me with unmasked delight. I had to admit, it was nice having her back in my life. Dad scowled. No surprise. I had wanted to uninvite him, but Gemma had said it would hurt Mom. She was probably right. Joe’s parents and a couple of his sisters sat behind them. Other guests took up the other seats. But I only had eyes for Gemma.