Page 31 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

Ian

I lean against the doorframe of Chapter and Verse, arms crossed over my chest, one foot kicked up.

Jasper’s out on the sidewalk, Cash is at the back of the store, while Jay sits with the other children, cross-legged on the floor in front of Blue Betty as she reads aloud from a brightly illustrated children’s book, giving life to each and every character with different voices.

Meryl Streak stands off to the side with big glasses and a caftan, playfully admonishing children who talk out of turn—mostly Jay.

While we’re not officially security, I wasn’t going to chance anything happening to the bookstore or the workers because some asshole thought he’d be a hero.

Especially after I perused the online comments about the event.

Funny how the term “degenerate” is thrown around by people threatening violence and causing emotional harm to those they dislike.

We’re just here having some fun with books.

A man and woman probably not much older than me but a lot more beige slow their stride as they approach the bookstore, faces curled in obvious distaste, and I straighten from my position, letting my arms drop to my sides so they can read my Support Your Queens T-shirt.

Jasper sidles up next to me, tipping his head to the side, silently dismissing them with a shake of his head.

My eldest child doesn’t talk much, but he sure as shit gets his point across.

Our tattoos and muscles probably help too.

The man grabs the woman’s hand, nearly dragging her away, past our shop to Sweet Cheeks. If they don’t like Nicole’s drag queen read-aloud hour, I’d bet my entire savings they won’t enjoy Eloise’s pride flags and name tags with pronouns listed.

Turning back to the store, I spot a few familiar faces.

Jude Grey, of Grey’s Candy. Nate, one of the co-owners of Tabby Cat, the wine bar across the street, and father of a feisty little one.

A woman, who I’m positive is Maddie’s dance teacher, and the mechanic I take my car to when it needs a tune-up.

There’s also another couple, attempting to stop a kid from putting a bucket on his head after upending it so all the small notebooks and pens fell out.

Nicole bends, laughing quietly as she picks it up, waving away the parents’ worry and apologies.

As usual, I study her, from the top of her ponytail, to the bright blue boa around her neck that she accepted from Betty, to the hand she’s holding in the air, pointing something out to the dad in the kids’ section.

I notice she’s not wearing her wedding rings today, and for a moment, my breath stalls, my heart beating in my ears so loud, it’s the only thing I hear.

During our very short conversation upstairs, before she gave me the best blow job of my life, she’d said she wanted me.

Sure, she wants me for sex and some fun for a few weeks, but she’s never made any declarations.

At least, not until today.

With her bare finger.

That’s a statement .

One I hope means she wants me in her future. Or at least that she’s not going to go back to a man who doesn’t make her happy. Because that’s all I want.

Her happiness.

As much as it would pain me to let her go, I would if it made her happy. I just don’t think that weasel in a sweater vest can give her what I can. He can’t make her happy like I do.

And no one would make me as happy and fulfilled as she does.

There’s never been anyone in my life who’s made me consider the possibility of love and marriage again until Nicole.

When I picture the rest of my life, she is in it, and if it were up to me, I’d drive over to her house right now and pack up all her stuff myself. I’d move it all to my place.

Then again, I’m not sure she would want that.

Jay was being his usual pain-in-the-ass self the other day, teasing Nicole about becoming his new mommy, but I felt her body go rigid. So, she might be ready to step away from her marriage and still not be ready to take a step forward with me.

If I’m even reading this right. I could be jumping to conclusions, according to what I want to happen. It’s just…

Fuck .

I love her, and I want to be with her.

I want her in my house and in my bed. Out to breakfast with my kids. At picnics with my family. My kiss good night and first smile in the morning.

My new normal lately has been following these imaginary journeys in my mind about Nicole, and by the time Jas hits my shoulder, gesturing with his head that he’s headed next door, I blink into awareness that the story hour is over.

Cash and Jay filter out with the families, both of them wearing a few stickers on their shirts from Betty and Meryl.

After the crowd is gone, I stay behind to help Nicole clean up. I gather discarded paper cups and toss them into the recycling bin then straighten the chairs.

Mr. Darcy slinks out from behind the counter, his tail swishing as he approaches me. I crouch down and extend my hand, letting him sniff my fingers before he butts his head against my palm, demanding attention. I oblige, scratching behind his ears as he purrs contentedly.

“He likes you,” Nicole remarks, a smile playing on her lips as she watches us from across the room.

“What can I say? I have a way with pussies.” My joke earns an eye roll that bleeds into a blushing grin, and I give the cat a final pat before standing up. “Why doesn’t he live at your house?”

When she hesitates, I already know what she’s going to say.

Who she will name. “You know Darcy’s been around a long time.

Aunt Sue got him, and he was used to having the run of the apartment upstairs and here.

When she moved, she didn’t have the heart to take him, but Bryce wouldn’t let me bring him home. He’s allergic to cats.”

“Allergic… Like deathly ill—or the sniffles?”

Her shrug is minuscule, and I’ve seen this reaction out of her before. Like she’s tired of fighting with him. “It was just easier to keep Darcy here. He’s the shop guard cat. Vicious.”

I can’t smile at her attempt at levity because this is bigger than the cat. “He belongs with you. You’re his home.”

Nicole nods as the cat completes a figure eight around her ankles as if he knows we’re talking about him.

“And you belong with someone who will make that home for you.”

“Are you…” She closes the short distance between us, mouth opening and closing in stunned silence until she finally rasps out her question. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want to belong to you. We’ve never talked about what your plans are with…him.” I can’t even say his name. It’s a lump in my throat that’s almost impossible to swallow around. “But I want you to know I’m here. I’ll be here if or when you’re ready for something more than fun.”

She considers my words, her fingers fisting the sides of my T-shirt. She’s no longer afraid to touch me in public, which could only be a good sign. Along with her missing jewelry.

And my hopes are up.

Until she frowns. “You want to…date me?”

I touch my index finger to her bottom lip.

“I want to do whatever you want. However much you’ll give me.

” Her tongue pokes out to wet her lips, licking my finger, and a jolt of lust shoots through me.

“I know I was the one who told you not to give any fucks about anybody but yourself, but I want you to give a fuck about me.”

She bites back a smile, her bratty attitude shining through her whispered words. “You mean you want me to fuck you.”

I lift a shoulder. “That too. I want you to give lots of fucks about me. Because—” I stop myself, ready to tell her how I feel, but I doubt she’s ready to hear it yet. So I backtrack. “I like you, and you can have every last one of my fucks.”

“So romantic.”

“Baby, I will give you all the romance you want.” I curl my hand around the nape of her neck and place one soft kiss on her mouth, laying all my dreams at her feet.

“But I can’t pretend it’s not killing me anymore.

I’ll give you all the time you need, I just need to know if at the end of this journey you’re on, you’re going to want me with you. ”

She backs away a few inches, and her pretty blue eyes drift back and forth between my own, searching for meaning and very possibly reading between the lines.

Of course my brilliant and curious girl would study all the possibilities closely.

No matter how much she’s grown over the last few weeks, she will never stop being cautious, and I’m glad of it.

“What if I said I wanted to get another cat?” she asks, as if that will make me change my mind.

“Is that supposed to turn me off? You want another cat? Okay. You want three more cats? All right. I’ll build you a whole goddamn cat castle, if that’s what you want.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow, her eyes alight like she might start laughing or crying. But she doesn’t respond, and I hold my breath.

Waiting for long seconds.

Fucking days.

I would wait as long as she told me to, but right now, I have trouble keeping my impatience in check. I tell myself to relax my muscles and release the grip on her neck to play with the ends of her ponytail.

She fixes her gaze on my eyes, and when she finally speaks, her voice is gentle but firm.

“Ian, I hope you know how much I care about you, as a person and friend, but especially as a man who’s shown me what life can be like.

What relationships can be. You’ve made me realize I know myself better than I thought, and you helped me to be braver than I ever suspected I could be.

” She gently scratches at my beard, and this feels like a breakup even though technically we were never even together.

“I want you to know that I will always cherish you and what we have together. I’ve never felt anything like it. But…”

I work to keep my features smooth, refusing to let on to the fact that I’m most likely having a heart attack.

“I can’t make any promises yet. Not until I officially end things with Bryce.” She reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together. “It wouldn’t be right for me to jump into something new before properly closing that chapter of my life.”

I nod, even as irrational frustration wells up inside me. She’s doing the mature, responsible thing, but the jealous caveman in me wants to throw her over my shoulder and take her upstairs to my apartment right now.

“Yeah, no, I get it. Absolutely. You’re right,” I mumble, hoping I sound somewhat coherent.

She gives me a small smile, maybe because she thinks me losing my mind is funny. Or maybe because she knows how she’s waltzed into my life and shaken it up like no one and nothing else has been able to. Or maybe she knows I’m not telling the truth.

Because I want all of her now . I don’t want to wait.

She brushes her thumb over my knuckles. “I want to be able to give you—give us—my full attention. You deserve that.”

“You deserve to do this at your own pace,” I reply because it’s true. But also…

Tell me you love me.

Tell me you’ll sleep in my bed.

Tell me you’re mine for good. Forever.

I tug on her hand, pulling her against me. “I’m yours, Nicole. Whenever you’re ready.”

A blush stains her cheeks, and I can’t resist dragging the tip of my nose over the warm flush, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. She offers me a kiss, her lips brushing against mine when she murmurs, “Thank you for being so understanding.”

I don’t feel all that understanding, but I’m glad I can at least pretend I am. “Don’t give me too much credit. It’s the least I can do. It’s the least anyone can do. Start expecting more. Your bar is too low.”

Her laugh is muffled against my chest. “The bar is in hell.”

Which makes me want to roar. As far as I’m concerned, her husband doesn’t deserve her maturity.

What he does deserve is the middle finger spray-painted on his walls as the goodbye note.

Nicole doesn’t need to explain herself to anyone, but it goes to show what an amazing woman she is that she’ll give him that.

“I just need a little more time,” she says, tipping her head back.

I ignore the rising pain in my chest, a mixture of jealousy and desire and love. “Take all the time you need.”

Come home to me.

Make me yours.

“Soon,” she whispers. “I promise.”

I close my eyes, breathing her in, willing myself to be patient. To trust her promise that she’s not going anywhere.

When she draws back, the affection in her gaze steadies me. She knows how I’m struggling, yet she’s still here.

I take her hand again, running my thumb over her bare ring finger. A silent promise of my own. That, when she’s ready, I’ll be here to give her everything. My heart and my future, it’s all hers.

“I know,” I say simply. And I do. However long it takes, she’s worth it.

We are worth it.