Page 4

Stone

Stone had grown up in Windeville, this was his home and all he’d ever known. Sixteen generations of his family were rooted here, they’d helped build the foundation and had laid the first brick.

He and his husband had been best friends since high school, and an epic love had developed between them over the many years. A relationship that’d made Stone smile from the moment he woke in the morning until he climbed into a warm bed at night.

Now all he had left of Ben was the home they’d built together and a lifetime of cherished memories.

He also had the Stone family business he’d inherited from his parents and a dozen generations before them. A business of strong-as-oak lumberjacks, not only built by the men but included the matriarchs of loggers as well.

Now the town knew Stone as the widowed grump of a man who was strong as an ox, and as quiet as falling snow. A man of few words and even fewer smiles.

And he was fine with that.

Everything in his world had its place. Well, everything except for what he was feeling about the man—Royal was his name—standing at the end of the Cedar Pines Bed & Breakfast parking lot.

He seemed so tired, lost and out of place, like a drifter who’d gotten off the bus at the wrong stop.

Royal was turning his head back and forth at the shops on Main street as if he were trying to figure out how in the hell he got there.

He was too gorgeous, his clothes too expensive, his shirt too crisp, shoes that were new and too shiny to be standing on cracked sidewalks and staring at the faded old-time storefronts of Windeville. Royal looked as if he’d stepped right off a fashion show runway.

Stone didn’t know shit about designer name brands—hell, he’d been wearing the same jeans and Carhart parka for ten years—but he knew a high-priced coat when he saw it.

Stone was on his way to Mr. McDermott’s general store until Royal commanded his attention. It was his eyes, those cinnamon-brown eyes, that kept Stone from walking away and going about his business. Something about the man seemed broken, and for whatever reason, that tugged at a void in Stone’s chest.

His jaw tightened, he wasn’t the kind of man who sought out strangers or tourists. He went out of his way to avoid them. But he couldn’t leave Royal standing there alone and looking so unsure.

Why him?

As Stone drew closer, the air felt colder, the town quietening as if it wanted to hear what he was going to say. And without giving it much thought, he just spoke.

“You lost already, city boy?”

The words came out rough like they always did, but right then they felt more raw.

Royal glanced back with a frown before he spun around to face him. And there was that same flicker of confusion, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to notice him.

Yeah right, like you blend in here.

“I uh, I don’t think so.” Royal brought his hand to his forehead as a visor to shield his eyes from the sun. “She said the clothing store was not too far away, I’m just trying to see in which direction.”

“Left, follow me,” Stone ordered.

He started walking at a brisk pace. He could feel Royal right behind him, could hear the light tap of his shoes on the concrete.

Stone slowed a bit so they could walk side-by-side. He told himself he was doing it to be polite, or so Royal didn’t slip on a patch of ice with those ridiculous boots, but it was so he could steal glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

There was no way a man like him was going to stay in Windeville. Stone had seen enough folks drift in and out over the years to know when one didn’t fit.

Royal’s hair was dark brown, neatly combed, but also coiffed, like one of those trendy, hoity-toity executives Stone had seen in movies.

He was tall, but not as tall as him, built with lean muscles, and sculpted shoulders that made his fancy trench hang perfectly on his frame.

They were polar opposites.

Except for the quiet solemnity.

“So,” Royal said, “you do woodwork, huh? That must be quite fulfilling to work with your hands.”

Stone knew his glare was intimidating and brusque—he didn’t mean it to be—by the way Royal cringed and struggled to backpedal his words.

“I mean to actually make things, ya’know. Things people obviously admire around here. That’s what I meant. That must be nice.”

“I’m Stone the sixth. Craftsmanship is in my blood. It’s all I’ve known and will ever know,” he answered. “I do like building, but what I like most is that it keeps me busy.”

“I get that, I guess,” Royal’s voice had gone low and somber again. “My job used to keep me busy too. Sometimes it’s not always a good thing.”

Stone made a noncommittal sound, his heart pounding with an unsteady beat. As he thought, Royal was escaping whatever tidal wave was overtaking him and he’d gotten shipwrecked in Windeville.

It took less than ten minutes to reach Dud’s. It wasn’t exactly a department store, but it was one of the two places in town to find good outerwear, however Stone doubted they’d be up to Royal’s standards.

“Here.” Stone had to clear the grittiness from his throat. “This is it. It’s nothing fancy, but Jessie sure has more durable boots than what you’re wearing.”

Royal glanced up at the sign then back at him. “It’ll be fine. Believe it or not, I’m not all that picky. My clothes were always bought by my assistants. I never really had time to—” Royal ducked his head and muttered. “Damnit, never mind. Forget I said that.”

“Forgotten,” Stone said without thought.

“Thanks for the help. Guess I’ll see you around.”

Royal didn’t wait for him to respond before he disappeared inside the store. He had a ridiculous urge to go in after him and make sure he found what he needed so he didn’t catch the flu. It was common this time of year.

Stone felt off. Something was changing at that moment. Not the season, not the town, nor the blistering cold…it was something inside him.