Ten

Sunday, January 14, 2024

"She's doin' fine," Deborah explained as theyall sat around the dinner table. "Her doctor did tell her he'd prefer she not travel until after the baby's born."

Since Chelsea and Paul weren't there to share an update, Stone's mother was doing it for them.

Even without his sister and her husband, the dinner table was crowded. Like Stone, Donovan hadn't passed up a free meal. Nor had Brady. Since Reilly and Tate usually had dinner with Deborah and Owen on either Friday or Saturday, they'd pushed it out a day when Mom informed them they would be back early.

From the moment he sat down, Stone felt a sense of nostalgia. He'd missed these weekly meals. Catching up with his family, listening to their stories. Unfortunately, CJ hadn't been able to make it, so there was one chair empty. Sundays were CJ's overnights at the fire station. Because his brother mentioned trying to catch up soon, Stone agreed to meet him at the diner in the morning for breakfast.

Reilly lifted a forkful of their mother's famous tuna noodle dump—the worst name in the history of names for anything you put in your mouth—and paused before taking a bite. "Does that mean you'll be goin' up there every weekend?"

"Not every weekend, no," Mom said with a smile, clearly hearing the hint of jealousy in Reilly's tone.

All grown up and independent as hell, Stone knew that Reilly still enjoyed being the favorite.

"I've got plenty of time to help plan the wedding," she assured Reilly.

"I'm gonna need all the help I can get." She glanced at Brady. "Unless you wanna elope in Vegas. Because that's option number two. And I'm not takin' it off the list yet."

All eyes shifted to Brady.

"Not a chance."

Stone's dad nudged Brady with his elbow. "Smart choice."

"I don't know why," Reilly told Owen. "It would save y'all a ton of money."

"A ton?" Owen asked, glancing between Reilly and Deborah.

"Of course." Reilly fluttered her lashes. "If I'm forced to wear some big white gown, I've got to have all the accessories."

"I'm not payin' for diamond jewelry," Owen told her, then nodded at Brady. "That's his job."

With a mouthful, Reilly shook her head. "I'm not talkin' about diamonds." She grabbed her iced tea to wash it down. "I'm talkin' white doves. Lots of them."

"Doves?" Owen looked at Deborah. "Why do we need doves?"

"It's romantic," Reilly said as though it was obvious.

Stone was watching their mother, too, so he saw the slight shake of her head. After all this time, Stone found it amusing that Reilly still had the ability to pull one over on their father.

"Right up until they shit on the guests," Donovan said, pushing his empty plate away.

Reilly laughed. "Fine. Then I'll take white tigers to walk me down the aisle. Three of ‘em."

"They'll eat the guests," Donovan mentioned as though this was a serious conversation.

"White German shepherds, then. I'll need four of those, though. That way, they can walk in pairs in front of me. Lead the way like cute little flower girls." Reilly looked at her mother. "Who is gonna be the flower girl?"

"You could always ask Ethan and Beau if Kiera'd be willin'," Deborah said, referring to their cousin's daughter.

"You could have Kate do it," Owen chimed in. "She's nine. Might be able to control her better."

"She's a Walker," Donovan noted. "Ain't no controllin' that bunch."

That earned a round of laughs from everyone.

Reilly took a bite, contemplating all the information. She lifted her fork as she swallowed. "I still think the doves are the right way to go."

"How about doves and tigers?" Stone suggested.

Reilly's eyes glittered with mirth. "That would be interesting, right?"

Donovan looked at Brady. "You sure you still wanna go through with this? It's not too late to back out."

Tate punched Donovan in the arm and earned himself a glower that spoke of the sort of retribution Stone didn't want to think about.

Clearly ready to be off the subject of over-the-top wedding ideas, Deborah looked at Stone.

"Donovan said you met with the landscaper."

"Nico Daugherty came by?" Owen asked.

Tate chuckled. "Wasn't that the guy you punched in the face for makin' Chelsea cry?"

Stone purposely didn't look at Brady. He was the only person at the table—at least that Stone was aware of—who knew about what happened that night in the hay loft. Brady didn't have specifics, but he'd been pulling into the driveway the next morning and had seen Stevie and Nico leaving. Considering Stone had been shirtless and barefoot, the guy didn't need a map for his suspicions to find a home.

Because of that ill-timed exit, Stone had ended up on the wrong end of Brady's good intentions two days later when Brady blasted him for being a dumbass. He could still hear Brady's disappointed voice all these years later.

"Chelsea's fuckin' boyfriend, Stone? You couldn't find someone … fuck,anyone else to screw around with? You realize he's Stevie's best friend's brother, right? You could've lit a match up in that loft and not caused as much damage as you've done to more than one relationship. For what? And don't tell me it's because you're serious about either of ‘em."

That conversation with Brady, which was more of a one-sided shouting match, had sent Stone into a tailspin. Up until that point, he'd spent two whole days walking around in a hazy fog of satisfaction. But as soon as Brady called him to the carpet, he'd been riddled with regret. While he hadn't appreciated Brady going postal on him, he couldn't deny the man was right.

"I thought you wanted to make somethin' of yourself, Stone. D told me you're lookin' at workin' on a ranch. Why the fuck are you stringin' along a coupla high school kids? You should be out there, figurin' out what the fuck you wanna do with your life."

Brady had single-handedly planted the seed of doubt, watered it, and made it grow from there. The more Stone had thought about it, the more he'd realized that he had no business thinking about a future with anyone. Definitely not Stevie. She had her whole life ahead of her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to end up hating him. She would've because if he stuck around Coyote Ridge, there was no way he wasn't going to insist on a repeat of that night. He figured it wouldn't take long for her to end up feeling used, and he would've ended up wallowing in a shit-ton of regret.

So he'd decided that chasing a dream was the best option. For everyone.

"Remember Chelsea walked around for a week feelin' sorry for the guy?" Reilly asked.

"But not sorry enough to take him back," Owen noted.

"She did take him back," Brady said, his gaze sliding past Stone. "For a minute."

"It was routine for her at that point," Deborah said with a wistful smile. "But she had her sights set on bigger things."

"You think they might move down here one day?" Reilly asked.

Stone wasn't paying attention, so he didn't hear his mother's response.

His only thought was that he needed to seek out Stevie. At the very least, she deserved an apology.

Whether he could tell her the truth—that he'd been in love with her, but that night had changed him—was still undetermined. Deep down, he knew he'd made the right decision by leaving because what he'd wanted was not something she had signed up for.

To this day, he couldn't see himself settling down with one person. Fifteen years ago, that had seemed like a ludicrous idea. Then again, being out and proud had been reserved for only the most determined. Luckily, that wasn't the case anymore. For a lot of people, anyway.

But it wasn't until Stone learned about his cousin Travis coming out and admitting that he was in love with Kylie and Gage that he realized it wasn't as crazy as he'd thought. Difficult, yeah. Because it wasn't as easy as it looked. Finding a soulmate when you were looking at a one-to-one ratio was hard enough. Finding someone who understood and wanted the same thing didn't happen easily, so finding two was next to impossible. Yet somehow, Travis had found a way to make it work.

With that said, Stone wasn't going to give up. Now that he'd had a taste of the best life had to offer, he would settle for nothing less than genuine happiness. Even if it meant he would be single for the remainder of his days.

***

"So what was that look you gaveStone earlier?" Reilly asked Brady on the drive back to their house.

They were sitting in the backseat of Donovan's truck since they'd all ridden together to her parents' house for dinner. They had the illusion of privacy, but she knew her brother and Tate were listening to every word.

Brady continued to gaze out the window. "I didn't give him a look."

"Yes, you did." Reilly tapped the back of Tate's seat. "You saw it, right?

He didn't respond.

"I think you're seein' things," Brady told her.

She huffed. "They don't call me the all-seeing, all-knowing one for nothin'."

"No one calls you that," Donovan and Brady said in unison.

"Yes, they do," she countered.

"Name one person," Brady insisted.

"Tate."

Tate barked a laugh. "I do not call you that."

"Well, you should," she told him before turning her attention back to Brady. "That one." She pointed at his face. "That's the look. The non-look look."

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Stall tactic one-oh-one. Ask a question to buy time so you can come up with a lie."

Brady's smile started slow and ended with a wide grin and a shake of his head. "I'm not gonna lie to you."

"But you're not gonna tell me the truth, either. I saw it. As soon as Tate mentioned that Nico was the guy Stone punched for makin' Chelsea cry, Stone instantly avoided lookin' at you. Tate saw it. Right?"

"I saw nothin'," he said.

"Liar."

He chuckled.

"You know somethin'," Reilly accused Brady. "About what happened back then."

"Nothin' happened."

Reilly looked at Donovan and noticed him glancing back at them in the rearview mirror.

"Do you know?" she asked her brother.

"No."

"Really?"

He met her gaze in the mirror. "Really."

Darn it. She believed him.

Reilly glanced at Brady and lowered her voice. "This isn't over."

He laughed as he took her hand and linked their fingers. And just like that, she knew what she had to do.

Fifteen minutes later, after Donovan dropped them off at their house, Reilly filled a glass with water and faked a yawn. "I think I'm gonna turn in. See you in the mornin'."

Brady looked up from where he was, glancing at the pile of mail he'd dropped on the counter yesterday. "You don't wanna watch a movie?"

Oh, she definitely did. Especially because they'd made it their Sunday night tradition—that is, if a handful of Sundays could be considered a tradition. Because she closed the General Store early on Sundays, it gave them time to spend together. Alone. And for the past few weeks, they'd opted to camp out on the couch and watch a movie. Reilly preferred it because it always led to some spicy extracurricular activities.

"Nah. I think I'm gonna hit the hay."

"Everything okay, Rye?"

Reilly stopped at the base of the stairs and turned toward him. She pretended to yawn again, stretching her arms over her head. The move lifted her sweater, instantly drawing Brady's attention to her bare belly. The heat in his gaze was instant, just as she knew it would be.

"I could probably be persuaded," she told him, lowering her arms.

He huffed a laugh as he walked into the living room. "Could you now?"

"Yep."

"What exactly do I need to do to persuade you?"

"Never mind." She spun on her heel and started up the stairs. "You won't like it, so never mind."

Before she reached the top, she heard his booted feet on the stairs.

Reilly squealed when she realized he was chasing after her. She made a beeline for the bed and ran around to the other side. Her first mistake was thinking a king-size mattress was going to stop him.

Without hesitating, Brady scaled the mattress in two steps, then hopped down on the floor, trapping her between the wall and his big, beautiful body.

"I was doin' some thinkin'," Brady said with a smirk.

Reilly laughed as she peered up at him. "Yeah? In the ten seconds it took you to get up here?"

He nodded. "I think you're the one who needs to persuade me."

"Oh, really?"

Brady lifted his sweater and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto the bed.

Reilly was instantly distracted by the sheer perfection of his body. The man was freaking hot. It didn't matter that his sexy body had become her own personal playground these past few weeks, she found when he took off his shirt, she was unable to speak.

Brady took her hands and placed them on his abs. She took over from there, grazing the smooth, warm skin.

While she did that, he unbuttoned his jeans.

Her mouth watered. Really, it did.

"Dessert?" she asked hopefully.

Brady laughed as he sat down on the bed. "Take off my boots."

She helped him get them off, dropping them on the floor because she didn't want to miss a thing. When Brady McCord stripped, it was like unwrapping Christmas, Valentine's, and birthday gifts all at once.

He stood back up so he could push his jeans and underwear down before he sat down again.

When he laid back on the bed, she took over, admiring his hard cock as she tugged his jeans down his legs.

She licked her lips and met his gaze. "I can be very persuasive."

His brown eyes gleamed with desire. "I know you can."

Reilly reached for him, circling her fingers around his satin-smooth length, stroking from root to tip. She watched his face, loving the way his eyes rolled back whenever she touched him.

She teased him for a minute before stopping abruptly. His eyes opened, radiating heat as they tracked her every move. Reilly stripped quickly before joining him on the bed, straddling his thighs. She resumed her massage, using both hands, one to caress his cock, the other to gently play with his balls.

Brady moaned softly.

Reilly stopped.

His eyebrows lifted in question.

"First, you have to admit there was a look."

He grinned, reaching down to stroke himself.

Reilly stopped him by covering his cock with her hands. "This is mine. You can't touch it."

He barked a laugh.

"Only I get to touch it tonight. But I'm only gonna do it if you tell me."

Brady reached again, and she swatted his hand away.

Laughing, he said, "Yes. There was a look, okay?"

She nodded and resumed playing with his dick.

She paused to lift her butt off his legs. "Move back."

He shifted underneath her until he was stretched across the bed. She moved with him, continuing to stroke when he was where she wanted him.

"And what was the look for?"

"That's gonna require more persuasion," he told her.

"Oh, really?"

Brady nodded. "You should try usin' your mouth."

Reilly licked her lips, peering down at his long, thick length, which was still tunneling in and out of her fist. She wasn't sure he even realized he was doing it, but Brady was pumping his hips.

She scooted down his legs, pressing her breasts to his thighs while still holding his cock in her hand. She licked the tip, staring up the length of his torso to watch his face. Brady never stopped looking at her. That was what he always did when she put her mouth on him. As though he was as turned on by the sight as much as the sensation.

She kissed the tip, then circled her tongue around the crest.

He moaned.

"What was the look for?"

Brady lifted his head. "I'll tell you what. You suck me, then I'll lick you. After that, you can ride me. Then, if you make me come, I might consider talkin' about your brother. But as long as your mouth's close to my dick, I have no desire to talk about him."

Reilly chuckled. That made sense. She wasn't all that eager to talk at the moment, either.

"Fine. But if you don't tell me after…" She let the warning linger in the air around them as she set out to show him exactly how good she was at persuasion.