by Nikky Kaye
That’s what I was afraid of.
Annie cleared her throat. “C’mon, Pandora. Open the box.” My eyes widened in surprise, until my friend blushed. “Just because I’m a waitress doesn’t mean I don’t know my Greek mythology.”
“You know she let out plague and pestilence, right? All the world’s evils.”
“Don’t forget about hope.” She tilted her head as I carefully put the box on my silken lap. “Do it, do it, do it, dooooo it!”
Hope was something in short supply in my life for the past few years, until I met Dominic and Jacob Stone. The irony now was that I was afraid to hope for it. The two men had changed my life, changed me. What would my life be, now?
The ribbon was as smooth as my nightgown between my fingers, the knot slipping open and trailing over my thighs. The box was too small to be a car, and too big to be an engagement ring. Then again, packaging could be deceptive.
The top flaps fit together like a flower’s petals, and I opened up the bloom to peer inside.
“Oh my god.”
“What is it? Is it a head? Did he send you a severed head?” Annie squinted at the box. “A shrunken head?”
I shook my head and pulled out a mangy, stuffed toy dog. Tied around its neck was a dented, scratched silver object—a rattle, maybe?
The way my heart rattled in my chest told me that this was more important than any piece of jewelry, any rare flowers or techie toy he could give me. Instinctively, I knew that this was part of Dom’s childhood—a part not normally shared.
A scrawled note tucked into the box confirmed it.
Grandad got this dog for me the day of my parents’ funeral. I remember using its paws to wipe the tears off my face. I was eight. The silver rattle was the first gift that Grandad gave me, according to family lore. They were the two most important things in my life, until I met you. I hope someday we can give them to our children, if we’re that blessed. When you open this box, come to me. If nothing else, I need to know that you got it.
I got it.
I’d give anything to have my parents back again, even if it meant staggering under the weight of massive debt. But I’d been lucky enough to have most of my life with my parents. Dominic hadn’t enjoyed that luxury.
“You’re crying,” Annie pointed out from where she lay on the couch. “It is a head.”
I laughed, sort of. It wasn’t until I automatically raised the stuffie to my face that I realized I, too, wanted to use it to dry my tears. I sniffled, my stomach curdling at the discovery that all this time, Dom wanted a family as much as I did. He wanted to belong to someone, to me.
I’d only been considering how much I needed him, and worried about taking advantage of him. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that perhaps he needed me more.
The silk of my nightgown made it easy to slide off the bed. “I need to see him.”
Annie sat up, frowning. “Now? It’s eleven o’clock at night!”
I stopped, one flip-flop on and the other dangling from my big toe. The dog was held to my chest, tucked between my breasts by my left hand.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Then what the hell are you doing here so late?”
“Uh…” Annie was at a loss for words, almost as much as when she met…
“Jake!” I shouted. Jake would know where Dom was. Probably. Maybe. God, I hoped so.
“What?” Annie fell off the couch with a bump. “Shit, where?” Her head swiveled from side to side so fast it looked freakily demonic.
Ignoring her, I grabbed the phone out of the charging dock and sent a text to Jake’s number. Within seconds I got a response.
“Where else? The office.”
“Annie, I gotta go.” I shoved the other shoe on my foot. “Get out of here so I can lock up.” Phone, shoes, purse…
“Evie, you can’t go out like that.”
I looked down at the floor-length silk negligee. My tender nipples were pointing through the lace cups.
“You’re right.” I put the bear, the rattle, and my purse in a tote bag, and pulled on a college hoodie.
If the night guard on shift at the Stone building’s security desk thought my outfit was strange, he didn’t let on. He was all business, to a fault.
“Miss, the elevators are locked for the night. Only people with keys can access them. I shouldn’t even have let you in the front doors, but you looked… cold.”
I hugged my tote bag to my chest. “You have a key, don’t you? I just need to see Mister Stone. I know he’s here. I even know where his office is. You don’t even have to get off the elevator with me—”
He held up a hand. Sighed. “How about I call him to come down to see you?”
“That would be great.” I sagged in relief—literally, the hem of my gown brushed the polished floor. “I’m sure he’ll want to see me.”
The guard looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m sure he will.”
I would have been offended, had I not looked like a psycho sorority girl.
While I waited, I moved to the giant coat hanger sculpture I’d noticed on my first visit. Under halogen lights, it looked much different—more like a glistening spider web.
What kind of patience would an artist have to have to balance and solder together a thousand hangers like that? What did it mean—that there was beauty in consumerism? Or was it like the retail version of the Emperor’s New Clothes? You couldn’t help but admire it; but at the same time, there was nothing there.
I heard the click of footsteps on the floor behind me. Hugging myself, I tried to regulate my breathing and kept my eyes on the sculpture.
“What do you think?” Dom’s voice was low and husky in my ear.
“It’s stronger than I first thought.” When I first saw the piece, it had looked to me as though it could collapse any moment. Now, I saw it and realized that every element was carefully balanced to support another.
“You opened Toby.”
That must have been the name of the toy dog. “I brought him with me,” I said, swinging the tote bag. “He was special to you, so he’s special to me. Thank you for sharing him with me.”
Dom still stood behind me. “There was nobody else I’ve ever wanted to introduce him to. Not even Jake knows about him.”
Oh.
“Evie…” He stepped closer to my back, the heat from his body penetrating the thin silk around my legs. His hands skimmed over my shoulders, the tips of his fingers trailing through my hair. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I spun around, needing to see him. “My past,” I said, grabbing the zipper of the hoodie. Then I tugged the zipper down to expose my chest. “My future?”
It was difficult to look in his eyes when his gaze was riveted to my cleavage. In my flip-flops, I was nearly a foot shorter than him, as well.
“You’re going to have be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
This was turning out to be both harder and easier than I’d thought it would be. “You know how the ad said that I wanted to be loved?”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“I didn’t write that—Annie did.”
“Ah.” His lips pressed together tightly.
“But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Ah.” His lips parted. “There’s something I forgot to mention in our previous negotiations.” I tilted my head back as he put his arms around my waist to pull me against him.
“Another amendment?”
“I love you, Evie. I know it sounds crazy, and maybe it is. I don’t have a lot of experience with love. I’m practically a virgin.” He chuckled. “But when I asked you to marry me, it wasn’t out of pity or some kind of twisted benevolence.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“It was because I—wait, what?” His hands tightened around my waist, the heat of his palms searing me through the thin silk.
“I. Love. You.” I slid my hands over his chest, dipping
into the gaps between the buttons of his shirt. My senses gloried in the feeling of his skin under my fingertips.
His relief was palpable. “Damn right, you do.”
He bent his head to kiss me hungrily, molding his body to mine until there was no space between us. When I was good and breathless, he raised his head an inch. “You’ll marry me,” he announced.
“I’ll marry you.”
“You’ll put up with Jake.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “It’s not that hard.”
“I’ll fight my grandfather for you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m already pregnant.”
His head reared back in shock, his mouth curving with delight. “Really?”
I blushed. “I think so. I haven’t taken a test yet, though. But I feel pretty weird, and I don’t think it’s the flu.” I clutched at his shirt. “Will you still want me if I’m not pregnant?”
“Baby, I wanted you as soon as I met you. In case you hadn’t noticed, you drive me fucking crazy with desire.”
“I didn’t know I could feel that way,” I whispered. All of it—the dates, the intimacy, the friendship, the sexual adventures—they were all a revelation.
He rested his forehead against mine. “Neither did I. My little virgin turned into quite the vixen.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Rawr.” My sexy growl made us both laugh. “You know, I never got that coffee and muffin from our first meeting.”
“Right,” he recalled. “The virginity bonus. You can have all the pastries and coffee you want—decaf, though.”
“I like it with two sugars and lots of cream.”
“Done. Shall we go up to my office to get you that, uh, sugar and cream?” His eyes darkened with need, and this close I could feel his body tighten against mine.
This time, when I swayed toward him, I definitely couldn’t blame my flip-flops. “Your office is fine.”
“Excellent.”
THE END
Keep reading for Saved By the Single Dad SEAL, to read Jake and Annie’s story!
SAVED BY THE SINGLE DAD SEAL
(Hearts of Stone 2)
Nikky Kaye
CHAPTER ONE
ANNIE
I didn’t become truly uncomfortable until he slipped something into my box. Something twisted in my chest, like a vague kind of panic and I literally bit my lip in order to stay quiet.
I’d been receiving anonymous notes at the restaurant for a month already. Sure, customers had left their phone numbers on the table before, but these were unsigned notes in envelopes, typed and printed. Nothing threatening, just random quotes from love poems.
Two days ago, one of the notes came with flowers. The large bouquet of roses was signed, “Your secret admirer.” The day before, a box of very expensive chocolates showed up.
It was all completely unoriginal—and totally unnerving.
That kind of thing might be cute when you’re sixteen, but I was closing in on thirty this year. What was sweet and thrilling as a teenager is considered stalking when you’re an adult. Instead of my heart going pitter-pat, my fingers went tap-tap as I called the police.
Their advice was to be more aware of my surroundings, keep the notes and throw away the flowers. Oh, and to bring the evidence down to the station if my admirer began delivering cookies—especially if they were chocolate chip.
Thank god there’s no city ordinance against eye rolling, because I broke the bylaw when I heard that stellar suggestion from law enforcement. I knew they weren’t trying to make fun of me, but I still felt kind of helpless.
I hated feeling helpless. I’d spent most of my life taking care of my single mother as she bounced from spineless boyfriend to loser boyfriend, to asshole boyfriend—one or two of which I’d had to junk punch as a teenager.
I knew how to kick ass and take names.
I’d had to learn.
Now, I hesitated outside the door to my building as I watched the tall, broad back of the man in my lobby, at my mailbox. Even from a distance, I could tell he was a lot bigger than me. Standing in the dark of the evening, I felt vulnerable and exposed. Should I call the police? Should I yell for help? I gritted my teeth, not liking either of those options.
I ducked back outside the halo of the security light just before he came out the door. He turned in the opposite direction and began jogging down the sidewalk.
I followed.
Adrenaline and stupidity surged through my body. The aching fatigue in my body from a long-ass shift disappeared, leaving only the strength in my legs and arms from years of waitressing.
My slight frame in my cushioned slip-on shoes barely made any noise as I crept behind him. My uniform of plain black pants and a button down black shirt kept me in the shadows—or so I hoped.
And I still followed.
The closer I got, the more I realized that my stalker had a fucking incredible ass. I’d only seen rear ends that spectacular a few times in my life. His jeans hugged his lean hips and hung on his legs like rock star groupies. The muscles in his back and shoulders shifted under his thin black t-shirt, and even in the darkness I could see the tan on his arms. His hair was cut close to his head—so close I wasn’t sure what color it was.
Okay, so my stalker was hot. I could admit that. My heart was going pitter-pat now, but that was probably from the exercise. I stubbed my toe on the pavement in my effort to be stealthy, and caught a curse before it fell out of my mouth.
He slowed his pace, his head cocking to the side. I froze, even holding my breath so he wouldn’t hear me. Of course, if he turned around, he would see me standing right there—a dozen feet behind him. In the glow of the streetlights.
Well, hell—I was a waitress, not a ninja.
Then my phone rang.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. A quiet “Motherfu—” burst out of my chest before I could stop it. Now my heart was thumping so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if Stalker Sweet Cheeks heard that before he heard my phone.
Somehow I managed to dive behind a mailbox at the same time as scrabbling through my cross-body purse to shut up the offending device.
Yes, I multitasked the shit out of that situation.
I glanced down and declined my best friend Evie’s call, hoping she wouldn’t call back again. Flicking the switch to “vibrate,” I peeked out from behind the mailbox.
Stalker paused on the sidewalk about twenty feet away, his body stiffening. His head whipped from side to side. From my angle, I could see his jaw clench slightly and muscles flex in his forearms.
From my angle, I could also see a passer-by looking at me warily. I smiled, but he didn’t look reassured that a woman crouching behind a USPS box in the dark was totally normal.
I pulled my head back, waiting to see if he’d keep walking. Passing cars managed to hide the sounds of my feet shuffling in my graceful squat behind the mailbox. The traffic also muted the sounds of his steps as he bounded across the street in between cars.
Peeping over the mailbox, I spotted him disappearing into a dive bar on the corner. My heart stopped, then started again as I slumped against my metal hiding spot.
What the fuck was I doing? Was I completely loco? I was stalking my stalker.
My phone buzzed in my hand, Evie’s face lighting up the darkness.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Annie! Where the heck have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you!”
“Working. A lot,” I lied in a low voice.
Evie paused for a moment. “Where are you? You sound weird.”
My legs protested a bit as I straightened. “I’m just, uh, getting home from work.”
I kept my head down, close to the mailbox. It smelled like what pennies tasted like.
“Now you sound like you’re in a tunnel or something,” Evie said, then she gasped. “Oh god, are you in trouble? You need to tell me if you need help but can’t say it. Say something like, uh, I had to stay late to fill the ketchup bottles.”
/> I’d told Evie about my mystery man, and she’d been more concerned than I was at the time. In fact, she’d been the one dragging me to the police station to file a useless report.
Of course, they only pretended to listen to her because I told her to bring cookies. Afterwards, I told her that they’d probably be more impressed that she was engaged to Dominic Stone, billionaire retail magnate.
Money talked. Cookies walked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “But I’m following him.”
“What?”
I held the phone away from my ear as she shrieked.
“What do you mean, ‘following him’? Stalker dude? Where is he now? Where are you?”
“He just went into a bar.” My gaze flicked up to check on the door again. “I came home and found him stuffing something into my mailbox, Evie.”
“What was it?”
“Dunno. I decided to tail him instead.”
“You’re nuts. He could be dangerous, Annie. You should go home and put gloves on or something before opening your mailbox. Then take whatever it is to the police.”
“What if there’s a severed head in there or something?”
She snorted. “The mailman can’t even get a book from Amazon in those dinky boxes. I hardly think it’s going to be a head.”
I hummed. It could still be a head. Maybe an animal’s head?
The idea made me shudder, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I felt a sudden urge to take my long dark hair out of my ponytail, like having it around me would protect me somehow. It was a silly idea, but I did it anyway.
“Wait!” Evie’s voice startled me. “Did he open the box?”
My eyes closed with the memory. “No,” I said slowly. “It looked like he was putting something through the cracks, like an envelope.”
“So it’s probably just another creepy love poem.”
“Just another” was one more than I wanted. I was about to point that out to her, when I saw his back halfway down the block on the other side of the street.