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Page 3 of Just This Once (Stone Family #2)

Dante

T he one word from Taryn’s lips is both a demand and a plea. I’m not sure if she’s questioning why I’m here, why I’m talking to her, or why I’m so fucking desperate.

I don’t know why, but I answer all of the above.

“Why? Because as I was sitting there at the table—” I tilt my head back in the direction behind me “—I saw you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

The way you hold yourself back from laughing.

I want to hear it. See how your face changes when you let go.

And I saw your foot wiggling, like you were impatient, your shoe dangling from your toes at one point.

I wondered if you didn’t notice or just didn’t care. I had to know.”

She swallows, the line of her throat lifting and then relaxing, her jaw working like she wants to speak but can’t.

I chance a touch of her shoulder, sweeping my hand under her hair, the soft strands settling over my skin when I wrap my fingers around her neck.

“And it’s your birthday. I couldn’t miss out on that. ”

Her dark-chocolate eyes narrow. I’m sure she doesn’t want to believe me, but it’s the truth. Now that I know it’s her birthday, I have to see this through. Make sure she enjoys it.

Since she’s not moving away or aiming her sharp words at me, I like my odds. Especially when she licks her lips. They’re bare. Like her. No nonsense. Very little makeup and nothing that screams high-maintenance about her clothes, but it suits her.

Classic.

Elegant.

Fit for a duchess.

“What do you want?” she asks, and I take a deep breath.

What do I want? Fucking everything. But I’ll start small. “Time.”

“Time?”

“More time with you.” Because I know she’d have fun with me, but also, maybe, very possibly, she might be something special.

She purses her lips, considering me. “I’m a mom. I have two kids.”

If she’s trying to scare me away, it’s not working. “Okay.”

“I don’t date. I don’t have time.”

I shrug. “Understood.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she says loud enough for everyone in a six-foot radius to hear, earning snickers. Clara bursts out with a big laugh behind me. I ignore it all.

“I didn’t ask.”

She heaves a sigh like I’m boring her. Like she can see right through me. Although I’ve never been one to hide what I want. I’ve always been transparent. This is no different.

“But you will,” I amend, and she shakes her head, still not pushing my hand away from her neck, so I let my thumb rub along the base of her skull .

“I’m not fucking a guy named Dante.”

I grin, leaning in close enough to brush the tip of her nose with mine. “Famous last words.”

When I move away from her, she huffs, all haughty and tough shit, but she immediately sticks her drink straw in her mouth and sucks half of it down. No matter how hard she’s fighting, she wants me as much as I want her. So, I’ll play it cool for a little while and get to know Marianne more.

I learn she’s the daughter of a math professor at the local university and a nurse. With a head for numbers and a desire to stay close to her family, she agreed to help a plucky young upstart with her lingerie business. And the rest was history.

The Wilkenson-Shaws seem really happy, and it’s nice to be around people who aren’t in constant competition.

Because that’s what it feels like being with my family—constant competition—but it’s clear this little group of women supports and lifts one another up.

And me. Since Clara and Marianne are both on my side when I try Taryn again.

“So, you about ready to get out of here?” When she ignores me, I lightly elbow her side, shooting my thumb over my shoulder. “Can I give you a ride?”

“Are you always this persistent?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clara nodding, but I shrug. “You’ve had two drinks. I’m simply being a gentleman by making sure you arrive home safe.”

“Two drinks in three hours. I’ll be fine.”

“But didn’t you walk here from work?” Marianne says, and, yes , Marianne!

“You walked?” I shake my head. “You can’t walk home. I’ll take you.”

“No,” Taryn tells me then reiterates it to her friends. “No. You two said you could drop me off.”

Clara was always a terrible liar, but she tries for me. “We have so much work to do at the store.”

Taryn glares at her. “Since when?”

“Since my old friend came to talk to us and seems to really be into you, and he’s one of the best people I know.”

I grin at my grumpy lady. So deliciously grumpy.

“No,” she says again, pressing the tip of her index finger against my chin to turn my head away from her. Even if she can’t completely squash the tremor of her mouth.

I sweep my gaze right back to her. “It’s only a ride home. Come on.”

“Go on,” Clara says.

Marianne doesn’t say anything, but when I look between her and Taryn, they’re having some silent conversation. Taryn glaring. Marianne seeming unfazed. It’s Clara who asks the bartender to close out their tab. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s only nine,” Taryn says, holding her cell phone with the time then gesturing my way. “And before this guy showed up, you were ready to order another drink.”

Clara’s eyes go round. “I don’t recall that at all.” She slips her credit card back into her purse and takes Marianne’s hand. “Come on, babe.”

I hide my laugh behind my palm and the couple says goodbye to Taryn, who whispers what I can only guess are a lot of four-letter words before Clara wraps her arms around my neck. “You take care of our girl.”

“Of course,” I promise.

“You still have my phone number?”

I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and bring up my contacts, scrolling until I find her name and then double-check it’s still correct. I text her a couple of emojis. “It was great seeing you. ”

She nods. “Now that I’ve found you again, I’m not letting you go.”

“Counting on it.” I kiss her cheek then shake Marianne’s hand. “Nice meeting you.”

“I’m sure we’ll be hanging out again.”

Meanwhile, Taryn has her arms folded, and I hope these two have their wills written. I’m not sure they’ll survive the next time she gets them alone.

As for me, I’m looking forward to it.

Once it’s only the two of us, I move my stool so I’m facing her and wrap my hand around the leg of hers, dragging it closer. Taryn squeaks out a surprised gasp, her eyes widening for a second before narrowing at me once again. But she doesn’t refuse me when I place my knees outside of hers.

“Did you have a good day?” I ask, and she slants her attention toward the kitchen, offering me her profile.

And what a nice profile it is. Her slender neck, where she slowly drags her fingertips under her chin.

Her skin looks so soft, and I envision burying my face there.

Kissing that delicate place, over the flutter of her pulse.

She purses her lips, making that Cupid’s bow even more pronounced.

With her high cheekbones and severe, dark eyebrows, I wouldn’t call her pretty.

She has a kind of unapproachable beauty, and I bet she put on part of her armor because the boys she grew up with never talked to her.

I’d wager my next paycheck she was self-conscious growing up and started deflecting with this whole nose-in-the-air thing.

But, really, boys are idiots, and she needs a man.

Especially one who won’t back down from her.

“You really want to talk about my day?” she asks with the exact right amount of venom to send adrenaline flowing through my veins. I presume this is how snake handlers feel. But snakes only strike when they feel sense danger, and there is nothing more I want than to prove she’s safe with me .

I sweep my index finger along the back of her hand and wrist she dangles off the bar top. “I’m trying here. Throw me a bone.”

She runs the tip of her tongue over her top teeth, her head shaking in suspicious amusement. Like she can’t believe her bad luck that she’s found herself here with me.

I do love a good challenge.

“That’s what you want?” She meets my gaze, brows arched. “To be treated like a dog?”

“Well, I can be a very good boy.”

That wins me a reluctant twitch of her lips. “I don’t deal with boys.”

I try and fail to bite back a grin. “Of course not. Only the manliest of men for you.”

She rattles the ice left in her glass then sips the dregs of the liquid. “Exactly.”

“And what qualities make up the manliest of men for you?”

“Catching a fly with chopsticks, punching a kangaroo, killing a fish with your bare hands.”

I cough a laugh. “I’m not sure if that’s a list of qualities for men or to show you’re a sociopath. What do you have against animals?”

She shrugs. “It’s caveman stuff. If modern-day men ever had to actually take care of anyone in their home, I very much doubt they’d be able to. So, maybe in order for a man to prove his worth, he should be forced to go hunt and gather some food before being allowed in a bed.”

“Not actually a bad idea.”

It might make me a dick for admitting it, but I love when women rely on me.

I love being their protector and provider.

It makes me feel strong and supportive. Not in the “I have to make more money” kind of way, but in the “I want to make sure they are completely cared for” kind of way.

I don’t want them to be subservient or dependent on me, but I want to be their stability.

And obviously, Taryn wants that too.

I suspect if I ever learned who this ex-husband of hers is, I’d hate him on sight.

“Let me take you home,” I say, and she considers me seriously, her eyes roaming over my face. I hold very still until she decides.

“Just a ride home.”

“Just a ride home,” I affirm with a smile I know she doesn’t trust.

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