Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2) (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Stone had been certain the Goodwins would stay with their daughter during her checkup—in hindsight, he now realized he’d been hoping on a prayer and a song—so when her parents followed him into the coffee shop and slid onto the stools beside him, he immediately shifted into defensive mode.

He never ever met the parents of the women he dated. Not only did it give marriage minded mothers and their daughters false hope, but he had enough problems with his own parents. He definitely didn’t need another set of parents, although one look at Tom Goodwin’s glare—his bushy brows pinched, his round jaw jutting out, his upper lip curled into a protective snarl—and Stone knew Stephanie’s parents were the opposite of his own.

They were the involved sort. For the first time ever, Stone was glad for his own parents’ hands-off stance. He never had to worry about their interference.

Beside him, Dora Goodwin regaled him with tales from Stephanie’s youth, from her baking skills to her seamstress abilities, and everything in-between. And all he could do was keep one eye on the doctor’s front door, and pray for a quick escape.

The moment he saw the door across the street swing open and Stephanie walked out into the sunshine, his escape route finally at hand, he leapt to his feet and reached into his pocket to pay for his barely touched coffee.

Dora Goodwin’s hand wrapped around his wrist like a convict’s shackles, and dodging the parental bullet suddenly went out the window. “Stephanie probably needs to fill a prescription, so you have lots of time yet. Sit. Sit. We’ll have another cup of coffee.”

She didn’t relax her hold which gave him no choice but to sit back down. Or arm wrestle her to escape her surprisingly strong grip. At which time she raised her coffee cup and waved to the waitress for a refill.

He met Tom Goodwin’s suspicious gaze and his stomach caved.

The older man had obviously seen everything. The kiss, the way he’d tunneled up under Stephanie’s shirt until he had her breast in his hand. He shifted, uncomfortable, and pushed away the vision of Stephanie naked in his arms and focused on his single status.

Because if ever he’d seen a marriage minded couple, this was it.

He could feel Tom’s glower right down to his toes, and as he dragged his attention back to whatever Dora was rambling on about, Stone couldn’t help a guilty flush from working up his neck and into his face.

“Isn’t that wonderful, Tom,” Dora said, her smile widening until she looked over at her husband. She nudged his arm and repeated her question. “Isn’t that wonderful, Tom?”

Tom grunted and kept his glare fixed on Stone’s face, then signaled the waitress to fill up his coffee cup.

Ignoring the surliness of her husband, Dora sat back and beamed. “Your mother was once a Weatherby, isn’t that correct?” She frowned. “I made a point of meeting everyone at Elvira and Morty’s wedding. How did I miss you?”

He shrugged, and tried to maintain eye contact while images rushed through his mind.

The first moment he’d seen Stephanie across the dance floor, dressed in a sexy number that hugged her curves, and made his hands itch to touch her.

That second when she glanced his way and their eyes met. The floor beneath him had seemed to shift and tilt. He should have hightailed it out the exit right then and there.

“Why, Tom,” she exclaimed and again turned to her husband. “Once Mandy and Dane get married, Stone will be
family
.”

Tom regarded him from below bushy brows and if possible, his glower deepened. “Why does my daughter need to see the doctor?”

“Food poisoning.” At the concerned look on her parents’ faces, Stone backpedaled. “Or the flu.”

Dora leaned forward and placed one hand on his arm. “Has she been throwing up?”

He looked deep into those eyes that reminded him so much of Stephanie, saw a look of hope, then suddenly straightened up and pulled away.
No way
. “It’s food poisoning or the flu, that’s all.”

The older couple exchanged a look and dread filtered through Stone. He thought of the way Stephanie’s body molded against his own, of the kisses that filled his head with thoughts of only her, of the smile that somehow managed to turn him on and turn him inside out too.

“I’m sure everything will be okay, Tom.” Dora patted her husband’s arm and tactfully changed the topic. “So how are your sister’s wedding plans going?”

Thankful for the change in topics, Stone grimaced. “Liz and Mom can’t seem to agree on anything.”

“Stephanie is the best. She’ll get it all sorted out.”

“I hope so.” He met Tom’s gaze and thought oh-oh.

Tom’s glower deepened. “Are you a player, boy?”

“No, sir.” Or at least, not lately. For the last month, he’d been living like a monk.

He grabbed his coffee cup and lifted it to his lips, and looked for a place to hide.

There was only one front door, and unless he planned to escape through the kitchen or out the bathroom window, he was pretty sure he was stuck right here, waiting for Stephanie to rescue him. By the looks of things, Dora had him—and the entrance—covered and blocked.

As he searched for an escape route, he noticed a group of seniors huddled around one of the tables. Money exchanged hands several times and he wondered what they were up to.

“Now, Tom,” Dora said, interrupting his thoughts. She patted her husband’s arm. “I’m sure Dane’s cousin is a fine upstanding young man with only honorable intentions toward our daughter.”

Taking a sip of coffee, Stone nearly choked. As Stone looked out the window, Dora followed his gaze. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she. And those legs…she has my legs. Tom always says they go on forever.”

“Dora,” Stephanie’s dad said, a warning in his voice.

She patted her husband’s hand again, then turned back to Stone. “Stephanie never talks about her personal life. So tell us the truth. Are you her boyfriend?”

Tom stood up, grabbed hold of his wife’s shoulders and urged her to stand up. “Go to the bathroom and fix your lipstick.”

Dismay scrunched her forehead. “Is it crooked?”

“All over your face.”

And with a tsk of dismay, she scurried away.

Stone was sorry to see her go, especially when Tom slid onto the stool beside him and faced him direct. There was fatherly concern etched into the lines on his forehead, which was totally different from Stone's own dad, who tended to avoid family situations.

If Stone was ever a dad, he wanted to be involved in his kid’s life.

“Some things can’t be hid, boy. Like lust and love. Which is it?”

Although he couldn’t ever see himself being this direct and nosy. Stone forced himself to relax and hoped he didn’t look guilty. “We’re just friends.”

The older man regarded him sternly. “The best life partner is someone who is also your best friend.”

Okay, this wasn’t going well. Every time he opened his mouth, someone said something that didn’t bode well for his single status. “I’m not ready to settle down.”

Beside him, Tom grunted. “Then if you know what’s good for you, boy, you’ll stay away from my daughter. Her mother wants grandchildren something fierce, and she’s not above playing a little matchmaking.”

He glanced out the window, where Stephanie had made her way across the street, and headed to the pharmacy next door, just like her mom had said.

“Stay on the straight and narrow, Stone, and you’ll have nothing to worry about,” Tom added, like Stone wasn’t already thinking exactly just that. “My daughter is a wedding planner. She’s had her wedding dress picked out since she was five.”

Nervous now, he glanced over his shoulder, looking for a way to escape, and felt as though his tie was tightening around his neck. “Friends. Just friends. I promise.”

“How old are you, boy?”

“Thirty-five.”

“I’d run if I were you.”

Behind him, laughter erupted—the group of old men—and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they were catching an earful of his dilemma for their daily entertainment.

Stone pushed to his feet, determined to escape, and suppressed a shudder. Marriage and babies, the last two things on his bucket list. He reached into his pocket for some money to pay for the coffee, and get out of there.

He peeled off a twenty, dropped it on the counter, and indicated to the waitress that he was paying for the Goodwin’s too.

With a glance over his shoulder, Tom lowered his voice and fixed him with a fatherly glare. “Don’t make me tell my wife what you do for a living.”

In the act of stepping away, he froze. “Excuse me?”

“She hates divorce lawyers more than she loves a good wedding.”

“How do you—”

Dora pushed her way between them, her cheeks flushed, her smile beaming. “So what are my two men discussing now?”

Tom quirked one brow in Stone’s direction, then went back to stirring sugar into his coffee. “We were discussing golf.”

Dora grabbed Stone's forearm and stopped him from leaving. “We heard your dad has a private golf course. You should ask him if Tom could join him sometime. Now that our youngest daughter is living on the island, we’ll be spending plenty of time here.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that.”

He took a step away, but her grip tightened.

“Do you think your sister and her groom will start a family right away? I hope Mandy and Dane do. I want lots and lots and lots of grandchildren.”

Over her shoulder, Stone met Tom’s
what did I tell you
gaze.

And then he realized that once kids were involved, divorces got messier. “I have to go.”

She gave her husband a dirty look. “Did Tom say something to upset you?”

“No, Ma’am. Stephanie’s out, so I’ll just take her back to the estate so she can get some rest.”

Dora patted his cheek. “I wish she’d find a nice boy like you and settle down. With your handsome looks, you could give me some beautiful grandbabies.”

“Dora,” Tom warned.

A cold shiver went up his spine and straight to his brain. He muttered, “Never going to happen.”

As he turned toward the doorway, he froze.

Stephanie walked into view, but instead of coming into the coffee shop, she sort of drifted toward the middle of the sidewalk and stalled, a pinched look between her brows, her bottom teeth gnawing on her top lip.

She held a bag in her hand—the prescription, he assumed—and had the other hand pressed protectively over her abdomen.

Panic started at the base of his spine and worked its way up his back, tensing his shoulders and neck, pinching the space between his eyes. As he headed out to collect her, two thoughts kept ramming into his brain.

Marriage and babies.

It had been a hell of a conversation to have right before he was going to make love to the sexiest woman on the planet. It was enough to bring down the mast forever and make a man swear off women.

When he reached her, he pressed his hand against the small of her back and guided her across the street. Neither of them said a word, which made Stone worry even more. As he opened the truck door, Dora came up from behind, startling him, and slipped around him and climbed into the back seat.

A look of dismay marred Stephanie’s features. “Mom, what are you doing?”

The older woman beamed up at them both. “You’re sick. You need my assistance. I’m coming out to the estate to help you with the wedding.”

Hands in his pockets, Tom growled. “Dora, get out of there.”

She smiled at her husband, then bent her head and clipped closed her seatbelt. “Awww, that’s so sweet, you’ll miss me, but I’ll be back at Mandy’s in a few days. While I’m gone, you can bake the squares for my birthday party.”

“Who’s going to cook my supper?”

The older woman’s shoulders stiffened. “Tom Goodwin, I’ll have you know I’m not just a meal ticket.”

And with that, she turned her back on him.

Stone had the sudden vision of what life with an interfering mother-in-law would be like, and pure terror shuddered through his body.

And yet, at this very moment, he had only two choices.

Manhandle her out of the car or let her have her way.

Stone went with option number two and headed around to the driver’s side of the truck.

Because, let’s face it, there were things worse than a marriage minded mother.

And the woman in the passenger seat holding tight to the bag on her lap was it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Stephanie clutched the bag on her lap and tried to come up with a reasonable excuse to escape so she could take the pregnancy test without anyone being the wiser.

She couldn’t tell a soul, not her sister, not her parents. They’d fuss and worry, and bombard her with questions. She’d never get a moment’s peace.

And before the day was over, Grace Kincaid would hear the news and personally escort her off the estate.

In the backseat, Dora chatted away, and it required minimal participation from the other occupants of the truck.

She snuck a look at Stone. His hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his patience clearly wearing thin. But other than an occasional grunt, he kept his mouth shut the entire way.

As they neared the estate, Dora tapped him on the shoulder. “If you could drop me off at the main house, I’d like to introduce myself to your mother.”

Stephanie took this opportunity to make a quick escape. “Me too.”

Stone arched one masculine brow at her. “My mother has already met you.”

She quickly backpedalled. “Not to meet your mom, of course. But I need to check on the cake, the decorations, and…”

She snapped shut her mouth and gnawed on her bottom lip.
Find some alone time
.

Muttering something under his breath, Stone parked the truck at the back of the house, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and followed them out.

Oh oh. Something had happened to ruin his playful mood. Probably her mom’s doing. All the older woman had to do was open her mouth and the inquisition began.

He stomped toward the kitchen entrance, and already committed, Stephane followed him in. The moment she stepped into the house, Stone yanked her to the side. A plate sailed past her head and shattered against the wall.