Page 44 of Stone


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It's a look that makes me appear both innocent and sexy. I line my lips with red pencil and fill them in with red lipstick to complete the look.

“Good enough,” I say, still frustrated with my thoughts, before grabbing my bag and walking across the property to The Barn Door. I’ll regret walking when my shift is over, and I’m totally wrecked from standing for hours, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Right now, I want to walk.

Think.

Breathe.

Inside the club, Maggie is helping stock bottles with Hazel and Ella, another sign that tonight will be crazy.

“Hey, girls!” I inject a smile into my voice and offer up a little wave as Maggie hauls another box to my bar. Hazel and Ella Mae smile but keep moving, probably to the other bars.

“Hey, girl. What’s up?” Maggie’s face is full of concern, meaning I’m doing a piss-poor job of smiling through my turmoil.

“Who says anything is up?”

Maggie snorts. “Your face.” She rests her elbows on the bar, cradling her chin in both hands, smiling. “We’ve been friends since I got here, so don’t even think about lying to me.”

“Honestly, I don’t want to talk, but I do need to talk.” I let out a heavy sigh and lean against the bar. “But I don’t even know where to begin. My head is all fucked up, Maggie.”

“Man troubles?”

I snort. “Isn’t it always?” Maybe the problem is me. “Ever since I got my shit together after my parents’ deaths, life has been trouble-free. I mean, Sage is always in some trouble, but it’s small trouble. But now, all of a sudden…” I can’t even finish my sentence.

“All of a sudden? Since a big hunk of blond strolled back into town?” Her smile is playful, almost teasing.

“Maybe,” I admit sheepishly, suddenly feeling foolish. I grab a towel and start wiping down the bar. “Are you working tonight?”

“Nice change of subject, but no. I’m just helping set everything up, and then I’m going to put Freya to bed and enjoy some naked time with my man.”

“Then you better hurry before you get roped into staying.”

Her smile grows bigger. “Wow, you really don’t want to talk about this problem, which kind of makes me want to know about it even more.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you, but definitely not now. Gotta find my smile for this shift unless you got tip money?”

“Here’s a tip. Go for the one who sets your body and soul on fire. Good luck.” Maggie shoves the box in my direction and pushes away from the bar before disappearing into another part of the club.

When the doors open, it’s a fucking madhouse. I swear that every single member of the sex club is here, and they each brought someone. It’s hot and stuffy, but the booze flows and my tip bag is overflowing. The night is a success, and I’m so busy that I haven’t thought about the kiss or the man in at least…five minutes.

It's a welcome relief, and I move forward under the delusion that I’ll stop thinking about Stone and the kiss and our spot. I make martinis and negronis, margaritas, and everything neat or on the rocks with a smile on my face. Everything is a blur, but I lean into it, enjoying the confusion as a welcome relief to whatever the fuck else I’ve been feeling.

“Ivy.” Gray’s voice sounds over the hum of the music and conversation.

I can pretend I don’t hear him, but that’s immature and not my style. So, I look up from the gin and tonic I’m mixing with a bland expression. “Gray. Hi.”

“Hi?” He throws his head back with a bitter laugh. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

I shrug. “What do you want me to say, Gray? You’re here, pissed off, spoiling for a fight, and I’m working.” It might not be the smartest approach, but I’m feeling reckless, I guess.

His nostrils flare. His anger is palpable as we glare at each other while the club continues moving around us. “Why are you staying in the bunkhouse?”

“Because it’s available and convenient.”

“Ivy,” he growls, his patience at its breaking point. “How the hell am I supposed to feel about you choosing to stay at the bunkhouse instead of with me?”

I bite back my initial response, but he’s staring at me all macho and high-handed as if I’m the problem. “Your parents’ house, you mean.” He winces as if I hit him, but I shrug it off. “We don’t live together because we’re not there yet, so it doesn’t make sense to stay with you.”

“Bullshit,” he growls. “This has nothing to do with you and me, and it has every goddamn thing to do with Stone.”

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