Stone Rules (A Mitchell Sisters/Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  The intercom buzzes, alerting me I’ve got a visitor downstairs. “Way to ruin a perfect moment,” I say to no one. Charlie laughs into my shoulder.

  I walk over and push the button on the intercom. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Stone, there is someone here to see you,” Frank, the doorman, says. Then he lowers his voice, sounding like he’s cupped his hand over the phone. “It’s a policeman. He’s got some official-looking papers, Mr. Stone. Says he needs to give them directly to you. What would you like me to do?”

  “I’ll be right down, Frank. Thank you.”

  “Policeman?” Charlie says. “Official papers?”

  “Stay here,” I tell her. “I’ll see what this is all about and be right back.”

  On my way down the elevator I call my attorney. “John, I’m on my way to the lobby of my building. There is a policeman who has papers for me that he says he can give only to me. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Sounds like you’re being served, Ethan. I can be at your penthouse in an hour,” he says.

  “While I’d like nothing better, I hate to ruin your Sunday, John.”

  He laughs. “Ethan, you pay me enough that I’d let you ruin my wedding anniversary.”

  “I’m not sure how your wife would feel about that,” I say.

  “She’d probably divorce me. But she’d get a hefty settlement because of how goddamn much you pay me. See you in an hour?”

  I laugh. “Sure. Thanks.”

  ~ ~ ~

  John puts the papers onto the kitchen table, having read over them carefully. “Basically this is an order of protection. A restraining order. He claims that you physically harmed him and threatened to do more harm. Is that true?”

  I look from him over to Charlie, cursing myself for letting Thompson get to me last weekend. “Yes,” I tell him. “He approached us at a club. He said some very unpleasant things about Charlie. I told him to stay away from us.”

  “Told him?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “I may have had him pinned up against a brick wall when I did.”

  “Shit, Ethan. Witnesses?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. Charlie and three of our friends.”

  He shakes his head. “Okay. Well, let me lay it all out for you. This is just a temporary restraining order. There will be a hearing in thirty days to determine if it will become permanent. But I won’t sugar-coat it, Ethan. The guy has a case against you. And he has witnesses to prove it. Even though they are your friends, they can still be called to testify for him and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to put them at risk by asking them to lie under oath.”

  I sigh. “I would never ask them to do that.”

  “Given the circumstances,” John says, looking at Charlie’s pregnant belly, “you may find a judge sympathetic to your situation. Honestly though, it could go either way. But for now, this order is a ‘stay away’ order which means you can’t go to his residence, his place of employment, or any other location that would put you within a hundred yards of him.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I tell him. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that asshole.”

  John looks at me in sympathy. “Ethan, you don’t understand what I’m telling you. You can’t be where he is. If you are, he can have you arrested. You can’t be anywhere he is. That includes the hospital if he chooses to be there when the baby comes.”

  Charlie gasps and touches my hand before getting up to pace the room.

  “What? That’s crazy,” I tell him. “Do you mean to say he can keep me from watching this baby being born? From supporting Charlie through it? From witnessing one of the greatest things a man can experience?”

  He nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Fuck!” I slam my palm on the table.

  Charlie walks over and rubs my shoulders. “Ethan, how will he ever know when the baby is coming if we don’t tell him?”

  “You are required to tell him,” John says. “That was in the original court papers you got served. You are required to tell him about all things related to the baby, including when you go into labor. If you don’t, you could be brought up on charges for withholding information. That will not help your case against him if he turns out to be the father.”

  “So, what do we do, John?”

  “What’s your due date, Charlie?”

  “December 5th,” she says.

  “That’s about seven weeks.” He looks at the restraining order again and thinks for a minute. “Honestly, if it were me, I’d get that paternity test.”

  “Get the paternity test?” I ask. “Now?”

  “Yes,” he says. “The guy pretty much has you over a barrel, Ethan. And you are close enough to her due date that it doesn’t really matter anymore. I mean, the way it is now, he can prevent you from being at the birth if he gets the permanent order. If it turns out he’s the father, he can make things very difficult as well, even if a judge doesn’t award him the order. But you seemed to indicate to me there is a fifty-fifty chance this child is his. And as I see it right now, fifty-fifty is the best shot you have to get him out of your life. How long does it take to get the results of the test back?”

  “I think Dr. Chavis told us it would take two to three weeks.”

  “Good, so you’ll have the results back before the hearing. Get the test. We’ll deal with the rest later. Until then, stay away from him. Don’t give him any more ammunition.”

  “Thanks, John,” I say, shaking his hand and walking him to the door.

  I join a very somber Charlie on the couch. “We will get through this,” I tell her. “Together.” I touch her engagement ring. “You are so strong, Charlie. Look at what you did today. You just need to be strong for a little longer. Can you do that?”

  She nods, giving me a barely-there smile. “As long as I have you, I can do anything.”

  “That reminds me, I guess now we’ll have to take two tests this week.”

  “Two?” she asks.

  “Yeah. The paternity test and the marriage license test.”

  She laughs and the sweet sound permeates my ears and goes all the way to my heart. “There isn’t a test for a marriage license, Ethan.”

  “There’s not?” I say, playing along. “You mean I don’t have to prove to anyone how much I love you? I’m really good at tests, you know.”

  She giggles again. “Thank you,” she says.

  “For what, dear?”

  She laughs, snorting through her nose. “For making me laugh when there isn’t anything to laugh about. And don’t call me ‘dear’.”

  “Okay. How about ‘Buck’? ‘Fawn’? ‘Moose’?”

  “If you call me ‘Moose,’ I’ll spit on your dinner.”

  I pretend to pull a pen from behind my ear, dab it to my tongue and write on my hand as I say, “Do not call pregnant fiancée ‘Moose’.”

  “I love you,” she says, still laughing.

  “I love you, too, Buck,” I say.

  “You’re hopeless.” She swats the back of my head.

  “Hopelessly in love with you,” I say. And while I realize that might have just been the cheesiest line in the history of all cheesy lines, it earns me a long, wet, erection-producing kiss, so I really don’t give a shit.

  Chapter Forty-five

  I lie in bed next to Charlie, listening to her toss and turn. Wanting to believe it’s because she’s thirty-six weeks pregnant and uncomfortable. But knowing it has more to do with the stress she’s under.

  Two things should happen this week. We should get the results of the paternity test. And I have my hearing for the restraining order.

  Damn Zach Thompson for doing this to her. Just when she had let go of the past, he had to go messing with her future.

  As I promised John and Charlie, I’ve kept my distance. Even though I want more than anything to ruin him. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had a team of people working around the clock to dig up anything we could use against him.


  She cuddles into my side. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” she asks.

  “Nope.” I put my arm around her and mold her body to mine.

  “The baby is really kicking tonight. And I’ve been having more Braxton Hicks.”

  “Do you need me to calm both of you down?” I ask.

  “Would you?” She smiles at me in the moonlight.

  I love to see Charlie in the moonlight. The curves of her body, the nuances of her face. And the sun comes up late enough in the morning this time of year that I can leave the shades up. Not to mention she loves to look at the nighttime view with the twinkling city lights and the luminescent skyline. And who am I to deny her anything?

  I reach over and pull the box out of my nightstand drawer. I now keep one box here and another in my car. I pull out the harmonica and start playing a soft melody I know she loves. I’ve been doing this a lot lately. It calms her. It calms the baby. It makes me feel closer to Cat, as if it somehow makes her a part of all this.

  “Better?” I ask, putting my harmonica away after the song.

  “Mmmmm,” she mumbles sleepily into my chest.

  I smile, knowing I can help her relax when there is so much to be tense over.

  But then she draws in a breath and sits up as fast as an eight-month pregnant woman can sit up. It scares me so I reach over and flip on the light. I look at her and she looks terrified. “What is it?”

  “Ethan.” She rubs a hand over her belly. “I think my water just broke.”

  My eyes widen in surprise and my pulse rate shoots through the fucking roof. I try to remind myself that I’m the one who’s supposed to remain calm here. “Are you sure?”

  She shoots me a look of annoyance. “I haven’t wet the bed since I was four, Ethan.” Then her face goes back to looking terrified. “Oh my God. It’s too soon.”

  “Charlie, you are close to thirty-seven weeks. Dr. Chavis told you last week that even if you delivered at thirty-six, the baby would most likely be fine. That’s what she told you, right?”

  I try not to think about the fact that I wasn’t at the appointment. That it was the only one I’d ever missed. I wasn’t there because Thompson’s asshole attorney called John and told him his client would be showing up and wondered if he should bring the police with him to escort me from the building. I almost lost my shit then, but Charlie assured me everything would be okay. She took Piper and Skylar and Griffin with her. I also insisted Levi go and sit in the waiting room to keep an eye on the manipulative prick.

  “Yes.” She nods. “But that’s not what I’m worried about, Ethan.” Tears pool in her eyes and spill over as she breaks down in hysterics. “I can’t do this without you. We don’t have the test back. Your restraining order. This can’t happen now.”

  I look at the rather large wet spot on the bed. “Oh, this is happening now,” I tell her. I take her hand. “Everything will be okay.”

  “How? How will everything be okay if I have to deliver this baby alone? If I have to go through labor without you, knowing he is in the next room?”

  “Let’s make something clear. You are not going to have this baby without me, Charlie.”

  “But what about the restraining order?”

  “Fuck the restraining order,” I say. “I’ll deal with the consequences later. We don’t have to let him know. He’s not expecting the baby this early anyway.”

  She grabs a hold of her belly and her face scrunches tightly.

  “Are you having a contraction?”

  She nods, breathing through it. “It’s not that bad.”

  I rub her shoulders until her face goes back to normal. “Come on,” I say, getting out of bed and offering my hand to her. “Let’s clean you up and head to the hospital.”

  She looks up at me. “Maybe I could have the baby here. Surely you wouldn’t have to leave your own home, even with the restraining order.”

  I realize going into labor might cause some women to make unreasonable demands, so I try not to look at her like she’s said something really ridiculous. “Charlie, I’m not risking the health of you or the baby over a stupid piece of paper.”

  “That piece of paper could have you ending up in jail, Ethan.”

  “Not if Thompson doesn’t know the baby is coming.”

  “But what about the other order, the one that says I’m required to call his attorney when I go into labor? When he finds out we didn’t comply, it will give him ammunition to fight for custody.”

  I sit back down on the bed next to her and cup her face with my hands. “Charlie, listen to me. No judge is going to give this baby to that dirt bag. Especially not now with all the information my team has found on him. The guy is grasping at straws here. He wants money, not a kid. Let him sue me for emotional trauma or whatever the hell they call it. And if by some strange twist of fate, he is the biological father, I’ll make sure he signs his parental rights away, no matter how much it costs me. I don’t give a shit about the money. All I care about is the two of you.”

  She grabs her stomach again, wincing.

  “Unless you are serious about having that baby right here on this bed, we’d better get going,” I tell her.

  Ten minutes later, I’ve gathered the things I need along with Charlie’s overnight bag and we’re in my car calling all of the Mitchells. I smile when I back out of my parking space, seeing the car seat that’s been in my back seat for over a week now. The next time I drive this car, a baby will fill that seat. My baby. No matter what any goddamn test says.

  ~ ~ ~

  Four hours later, the sun has come up, the Mitchells have all arrived and Charlie is dilated to a seven. They just gave her an epidural, so she’s no longer feeling the contractions with a lot of intensity.

  Now’s the time.

  I’m hoping the whole being unreasonable during labor thing will work in my favor.

  When the nurse finishes looking at the baby monitor stats, she exits the room, leaving us alone. I wait for the current contraction to pass. I’m relieved she’s no longer in excruciating pain with them. Both the lines on the monitor and the decreasing pressure on my hand alert me to the end of this one.

  I lace my fingers with hers and sit on the edge of the bed, looking deep into her eyes.

  She holds a hand up in front of her face. “Stop looking at me like that, I must look hideous.”

  I pull her hand away from her face and kiss the back of it. Then I brush a lock of red hair behind her ear. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” I say.

  She smiles at me. “It’s the love goggles again.”

  “If that’s the case, I never want to take them off. Because I love you. I love you more than I ever thought one person could love another. And I don’t want to spend one more second without you being my wife.”

  “What?” Her eyes widen with surprise. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean I want you to marry me. Here. Now. Today—not tomorrow.”

  I’ve asked her every day for the past few weeks. Every day since we got our marriage license. But I’ve never asked her like this. We’d pass in the hallway and I’d ask her if today was the day she was going to marry me. She’d always say ‘not today, maybe tomorrow.’

  She waves her hand at our surroundings in her hospital room. “I can’t marry you today, Ethan. We’re having a baby.”

  “That’s exactly why you should marry me today,” I say. “Hospitals always have clergy around to do this sort of thing.”

  “We don’t have our license,” she says. “And there is no way I’m letting you leave to go get it.”

  I pull a folded piece of paper out of my pocket and show it to her.

  “You brought it?”

  “Of course I brought it. I need you to become my wife, Charlie.”

  She studies me. “Why, Ethan? Why do you need it right now? What’s any different about today than tomorrow, or a month from now?”

  I put my hand on her stomach. “Because if this is my baby, I want
him born bearing my last name. And if it’s not, I want him to know I loved him enough to marry his mom regardless.”

  “Or her,” she says. A tear falls from her eye and I catch it with my thumb. “Well, why didn’t you just say that before?”

  I laugh at my stubborn fiancée. “I’ve been saying it for months, Charlie. Maybe you just didn’t hear it until today.”

  I pull a small box out of my other pocket and open it to show her the wedding rings I had made for us.

  She looks at the rings, identical platinum bands embedded with diamonds. She goes to pick the smaller one up, but I stop her.

  “I want to see the engraving,” she pouts when I swat her hand away. “I know you put a rule in there.”

  I shake my head. “Not until you are my wife.”

  She shifts in the bed and I glance at the monitor to see another contraction starting. “Then you’d better get someone in here quickly,” she says. “Because I don’t know how much longer we have.”

  In short order, the room is filled with everyone we love. The Mitchells were all in the waiting room, so that was easy enough. Kyle was in the hospital shadowing a doctor today, so he’s able to be my best man. And we’ve got my parents and Chad on Facetime.

  I’m not sure how many people get married sitting on a hospital bed. But frankly, I wouldn’t care if we were married in a garbage dump as long as it means this woman is mine.

  Jan Mitchell scoured the hallways, finding a pastor who was willing to marry us, so a mere thirty minutes after Charlie succumbed to my pleas, he pronounces us husband and wife. I kiss my bride to the applause and whistles of our impromptu audience.

  Somehow, Kyle was able to scrounge up a bottle of champagne and a bunch of those put-together plastic champagne glasses. He’s handing them out to everyone, but Skylar declines.

  Charlie laughs. “It’s okay, Skylar, you don’t have to refrain because of me.”

  “It’s not because of you,” Skylar says.

  Skylar and Charlie share a moment where they stare at each other and then Skylar gets a big smile on her face. Charlie squeals in delight. “Oh, my God, really?”