It takes five minutes before we catch sight of Tucker driving Stone’s cart. Summer Island’s roads weren’t made for rain, and there’s flooding everywhere. Our lights barely illuminate a few feet in front of us. Ruby’s ancient cart is having a terrible time staying on the road, but the chainsaw killer is having a harder time.
“What’s he doing?” Stone asks, wiping the rain off his face, as he peers into the darkness.
“Oh my God. It’s Bark. He’s fighting him.”
“Go, Bark, go.”
We get closer, and with him fighting off Bark, the escaped bank robber doesn’t realize that we’re right behind him. “What are we going to do once we catch up to him?” I ask.
“I’m going to be a hero.”
“Oh,” I breathe and check out Stone’s body, which is slick from the rain. Even sitting down, he’s got a six pack. Even in the cold, his giant penis is still giant and pushing against his dark blue boxer briefs. I worry that the flood of adrenaline is warping my good sense. I have to clamp down my attraction for Stone. More sex with him is just going to make it that much harder to cope emotionally. I’ve got to shut this down…if I survive.
I squint to see clearer. Ahead of us, Bark is on Tucker’s head, and his cart is slowing down. However, we’re on a slight incline, and Ruby’s cart is groaning against the strain. “It’s slowing down,” I say.
“Piece of shit can’t do ten miles per hour,” Stone complains. “Take the wheel.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
He leans over and picks up my legs, shoving them over to the pedals. Then, he takes my hands and places them on the wheel. “Ready?” he asks.
“No. What’re you doing?”
“All right. Here we go.”
Like a Captain America-Aquaman combo, he jumps out of the cart in the pouring rain and runs full out in his bare feet toward his carjacked cart and the bank robber inside it. In Ruby’s cart, I scoot over into the driver’s seat and press the gas pedal down as far as it will go, but Stone is running faster than Ruby’s golf cart can putt-putt.
Ahead, Bark is on the escaped criminal’s head, and Tucker’s swatting at the dog. His cart slows as we get close to the plaza, and Stone makes up the rest of the distance, leaping onto his cart. It’s a blur from there. Stone manages to get hold of the gun and throws it outside the vehicle. He punches the chainsaw killer in the head, which confuses Bark, who jumps on Stone’s head. The cart swerves as we reach the plaza, and it stops short. Caught off guard, I ram the back of it, and we hit the plaza’s fountain, breaking off a major chunk of the ugly landmark.
Stone and Tucker tumble into what’s left of the fountain, while Bark manages to hop out of the cart and yaps his head off while he stands in the middle of the plaza. I’m slightly stunned by the crash, but I manage to turn off the cart and get out. I watch as Stone pulls the criminal up and sucker punches him. I hear the crack of fist against chin, and Tucker goes down backward.
As he loses consciousness, the rain finally stops and the wind dies down to a light breeze. Sirens replace the noise, as Summer Island’s firefighters and police force approach.
Five minutes later, I’m wrapped in a blanket from the fire department, and the police have Rock Tucker in handcuffs. “You caught him, Stone,” the police chief says, shaking Stone’s hand. “You did a great job.”
I’m hustled away to get checked out at the clinic and Stone is hustled away to make an official statement. While we’re put into different emergency vehicles, we glance at each other but don’t say a word. I want to jump on him and never let go, but I tell myself that the quicker I let him go, the easier it will be for me.
Capturing an escaped bank robber during the storm of the century is the biggest news on Summer Island since Eleanor Roosevelt mentioned the island at a cocktail party for a women’s orange picking labor union. Millie and Cade, who run the local paper, have interviewed me three times, and the Society for the Preservation of the Fountain has threatened to sue me for the fountain’s destruction.
I take care of Bark at my place until Ruby comes home at the end of the weekend, and when she does, I offer to clean up her place. “It’s already done, doll,” she says when I show up with Bark. “Stone fixed everything. Even the glass in the door.”
“Oh.” Stone hasn’t contacted me since we had sex and almost died, but he had enough time to clean up Ruby’s house, I think, feeling rejected. Now, he’s on his boat on a long fishing trip, according to Marcy who got the skinny at the diner while I was recuperating at home during the weekend.
“Honey, you look like all the joy was squeezed out of your body,” Ruby tells me and insists that I join her for tea and an Entenmann’s raspberry Danish. Ruby is about seventy years old with a very modern wardrobe. Today, she’s wearing skinny jeans and a silk camisole. She slices me a big Danish and pours a dollop of milk in my tea.
“I’m sorry about your Juicy pants and your sweater. The clinic tossed them when they cleaned me up,” I tell her.
Ruby puts her hand on my leg. “I’m just happy you weren’t tossed.”
I think about the silence from Stone and realize that I have been tossed, but I don’t want to share that humiliating information with Ruby. It’s best to forget the roll on her rug with Stone and continue my life like it never happened.
“I had a long talk with Stone when he was here,” Ruby says, pouring another cup of tea. My ears perk up.
“You did?”
“When I got back, he was moving in my new couch. I love it. It’s red, which is a very powerful color.”
“That was nice of him.”
“He’s a good man,” Ruby says. “And you’re a good woman. You risked your life for Bark.” At the sound of his name, Ruby’s dog jumps on her lap. I pat his head. “Anyway, Stone said that you two are close friends.”
“He’s my brother’s best friend.”
“And you love him.”
I gasp and spill some of my tea. I mop it up with a napkin. “Did he tell you that?” I ask, startled.
“No, but I got the impression that something happened between you two. Something besides the bank robber.”
I will myself not to cry. “Did he tell you that?”
“No, but I’m really old, Norma, and I’ve had six husbands. A woman with my experience senses things.”
Despite all my attempts not to cry, my throat gets thick with emotion, and my nose starts to run. Bark hops onto my lap and licks my hand. I pet him, thankful for the distraction. I can’t tell Ruby about Stone and me or about my feelings for him. It’s too raw, and thankfully, she doesn’t push me for more information. Instead, she gives me another slice of the Danish, and I wolf it down like I haven’t eaten in days.
“Look at this. Look at this,” Marcy exclaims with glee, showing me the local paper. “Stone captures Rock,” she reads. “You’re in there, too. We should frame it and put it on the wall. Don’t you think so?”
Almost a week has gone by, but the story of the escaped bank robber, the home invasion, the golf cart chase, the shots fired, and Stone’s powerful left hook has lived on. The diner has been packed to the rafters because the townsfolk want to talk to me about my harrowing experience. I meet their questions with surprise. I’ve more or less forgotten all about Rock Tucker, but I can’t stop thinking about Stone. Every second that I don’t hear from him breaks my heart that much more.
“And then what happened?” John at table four asks. I’ve already told him the story six times, but he keeps coming back for more details.
“He was hiding in the bathtub. You want fishwife rice with your chicken tonight, or would you like potatoes?”
“Rice. How’d you get out of the bathroom?”
“I rammed his testicles into his abdominal cavity. We have fresh lemonade made, or do you want to stick with iced tea?”
“Into his abdominal cavity.” John whistles slow in appreciation. “I think I’ll stick to iced tea.”
It goes like that all day until my break in the afternoon. Sitting on a stool, I read a fashion magazine while I drink a cup of coffee, but when the hair on the back of my neck stands up and a shiver runs down my spine, I put my cup down.
“If a man ever looked at me like that, I’d melt into a puddle,” Marcy tells me, looking over my shoulder.
A hand comes from behind me and rests on my arm. I can feel Stone’s presence behind me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. “You’re not going to turn around?” he asks. His voice is low and soft, a voice I’ve missed in the past week.
I shake my head. “I wish you would turn around,” he continues. “I want to see you.”
Marcy clutches a kitchen towel to her chest. “Oh my God. He’s got a light blue box in his hand, Norma.”
I swallow hard.
“I lied about why I went to visit you that night,” he says, still from behind me. His voice is impossibly low, thick with something I’m afraid to inspect.
“You lied?” I whisper.
“I didn’t come to check on you because of your brother. Yes, he told me to keep tabs on you, but that’s not why.”
I wait to hear why, while the seconds tick away in silence. The entire diner filled with people has gone quiet, and everyone is focused on us.
“You haven’t guessed? I figured you’ve known all these years,” he says.
Is he teasing me? Surely he knows that I’ve had a crush on him since I got my first training bra. Surely he knows the reason that I spill food on him every night is not because I’m the worst waitress in the world.
“I went there because I wanted to see you,” he says. “Yes, I worried about you, but more than that, I just wanted to see you.”
“Why? Were you sick or something? Did you want me to make you soup?”
“No soup,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Can’t you guess? Haven’t I been obvious? I tried to hide it because your brother is going to kill me, but enough’s enough. I love you, Norma. I’m in love with you. I’ve been crazy for you since forever.”
“He’s opening the box, Norma,” Marcy tells me. “Holy wow. It’s a gorgeous ring. Now he’s getting down on one knee. Aren’t you going to turn around? Are you going to stare at me the whole time you’re married?”
Married.
Can this be happening? Is Stone Jenkins really asking me to marry him? Have all my dreams come true on my ten minute break at work?
“I’m afraid to turn around,” I tell Marcy.
“You won’t turn to salt. Turn around. It’s good. Trust me.”
Pushing against my fears that this is all a joke or a big lie, I turn around. Sure enough, Stone is kneeling in front of me with a ring box in his hand. Inside is the most beautiful diamond I’ve ever seen, but what’s really got me breathless is Stone himself. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit, tailored to fit him perfectly. He’s gotten a short haircut, probably to even out what the fire did to his hair. His eyes shine with hope and happiness, and he’s more handsome than I’ve ever seen him. I can’t believe he wants me, and I really can’t believe he wants me forever. After almost a week with no word from him, I resigned myself to letting him go. Now here he is with a ring. What should I believe?
“I was scared when you didn’t contact me,” I say.
“I’m sorry about that. I wanted to fix up Ruby’s house quickly before I had to head out to sea, and I didn’t want to see you until I had everything prepared.” A flash of worry crosses his face, and I realize that he’s as concerned about my rejection as I am about his.
“And my brother?” I ask.
From near the door, someone clears his throat. I look up to see my brother giving me the thumbs up from across the room. “I also wanted to talk to him before I asked you to marry me,” Stone explains. “Not that he could prevent me from marrying you or make me change my mind, but I want to start our life together on the right foot.”
Our life together. I like the sound of that.
“Come on, Norma, our food is getting cold,” one of the diners complains. “Give him an answer already or he’s going to have problems in that knee for sure.”
“Keep your shirt on,” I say. “This is a big deal, you know. You can’t rush it.”
“Maybe you could rush it a little bit?” Stone asks, smiling.
I lean down and give him a hard pinch on his chest. “Ow!” he shouts and rubs the area where I pinched him.
“Just checking,” I say and put my hand out. “Okay, since I’m not asleep, I would love to marry you, Stone Jenkins. I’ve loved you forever, and I’ll love you forever more.”
With shaking hands, he slides the ring on my finger. Then, he picks me up and swings me around to raucous applause in the diner. When he puts me down, he looks at me like he’s seven years old and I’m the bicycle that he’s been given for his birthday.
Then, he kisses me, and it’s the kiss of a thousand missed opportunities, the passion of a million lost moments, and the love of years of unspoken emotion.
“We have a lot to make up for,” I tell him when we finally come up for air.
“We will. One kiss at a time.”
The End.
If you enjoyed the Three More Wishes series, check out the first book in the Operation Billionaire Trilogy. Read How to Marry a Billionaire, a romantic comedy you won’t want to miss.
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