Stone (Stone Cold Fox Trilogy #1) Read online

  We’d accomplished a lot, though. Despite the long hours, the day hadn’t dragged. And I’d found myself so invested in the scenes we’d filmed, the time had passed at a rapid-fire pace.

  Fatigue hadn’t set in until I’d been in my rental and heading for home.

  Prior to Hugo’s arrival, things had been shaky with Boyce running the ship. The days had crawled by, and I’d felt like his oftentimes sour mood led to more chaos and blowups than anything else. It was no surprise, though. Boyce Williams was a certified dick to his core.

  I cringed when a memory of him berating me on set—in front of fucking everyone—flashed before my eyes.

  That’d been horrible. And so goddamn uncalled-for.

  I had merely stated my concerns regarding the first intimate scene between Grace and Levi. But, obviously, Boyce hadn’t taken the fact that I was voicing my opinion too well.

  In fact, it had gone over as well as a fart in a beauty pageant.

  With the heel of my foot resting on the edge of the tub, I squirted a healthy amount of my favorite lotion into my palms and rubbed it into my skin.

  Thank God for Levi.

  My eyes popped wide of their own accord, and I stopped my fingers mid-rub on the skin of my right thigh.

  I honestly figured that was a first for me, giving thanks to Levi Fox for anything but being a pain in my ass. Or a hot as fuck kisser.

  Good Lord. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of my mind’s thoughts this evening and finished up with my lotion.

  As I brushed my hair and stared at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t deny that my annoyingly intuitive brain had a point. If it hadn’t been for Levi stepping in the other day while Boyce had been losing his shit in front of everyone, I might’ve broken down right there in front of most of the cast and crew.

  It would have been embarrassing.

  But to my utter surprise, Levi had prevented that. He’d stood up for me. He’d understood that I’d needed to leave the set for a little bit and get myself in order.

  Thank God for Levi.

  Once Hugo had arrived, and I’d expressed my concerns about the first bedroom scene to him in private, away from eavesdropping ears and egotistical producers, he’d listened.

  The end result? Rewrites. The first “bedroom scene” had changed from full-out sex to a deep, heady kiss that left both characters wanting more.

  Kind of like that real-life first kiss with Levi…

  And the second…

  And the third…

  Jesus. I wished my brain would just chill out on the Levi Fox thoughts.

  Without any effort, I could picture his midnight blue eyes. The light scruff covering his jaw. The way his brow furrowed when he was irritated or focused. And the way his shoulders held so much power and so much pain at the same time. Most days, he looked like he was carrying a thousand pounds of tragedy.

  And, if I closed my eyes, I could even picture his smile.

  It was oh so rare, but God, it was a sight to behold.

  Yeah, I need to get off this train of thought ASAP.

  Hair brushed but still damp, I headed into the kitchen to make a “before bed” cup of coffee. Yeah, I knew it was a bit odd, drinking caffeine so late in the evening, but I was a world-class coffee addict. No amount of caffeine could keep me up at night. I could practically drink an espresso and still sleep like a baby.

  Before I reached the coffeepot, my phone started vibrating across the counter, and I snatched it up before it vibrated itself right onto the floor.

  Incoming Call: Grandpa Sam.

  I smiled at the name and didn’t think twice before hitting accept.

  “Hi, Grandpa Sam,” I greeted, all ears and smiles for his call. Over the past few weeks, I’d grown to love this man as if he were my own flesh and blood.

  His gruff chuckle filled my ears. “Hello, Ms. Ivy.”

  “What are you doing up so late?” I asked, and he laughed softly again.

  “Is this your way of calling me an old man?”

  “Oh my God, no.” It was my turn to laugh, and my cheeks heated with embarrassment at the same time. “It’s just well after nine, and I thought…”

  “And you thought an old man like me needs to be in bed before the ten o’clock news comes on?”

  “You’re so damn ornery, I swear,” I retorted, and my cheeks puckered out from my tickled grin. “And that’s not at all what I think or what I was trying to say. Give me a break, Grandpa Sam. I’m a bit exhausted from working all day.”

  “A-ha,” he responded. “So, it looks like you’re actually the old one in this scenario.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, technically, tonight, I am the old lady out of the two of us.”

  “First old, now a lady. What other things are you going to call me during this chat?”

  “Oh my God,” I said on an amused groan. “What can I help you with this fine evening, young, handsome, extremely manly and exuberantly never tired, Mr. Sam Murphy?”

  He chuckled heartily. “Now, that is much, much better.”

  I swear to God, for an eighty-year-old man, he was a world-class flirt.

  “I figured you’d enjoy that,” I said and pulled the coffeepot out of the machine. As he continued to talk, I turned on the tap water and retrieved enough water for two cups.

  “I actually have a reason for calling,” he said, finally getting to the point. “I want to invite you somewhere tomorrow.”

  “Oh, really?” I asked, holding my cell to my ear with my shoulder and popping open a half-empty can of Folgers.

  “It’s somewhere special, and I would like for you to come,” he said. “It would mean a lot to me, in fact.”

  How in the hell could I say no to that?

  “Well,” I started as I added a scoop of ground coffee into the filter and clicked the coffee machine on. “If it’s important to you, then it is important to me.”

  “So, you’ll go?” he asked, and I couldn’t miss the hope in his voice.

  “Just tell me the details, and I’ll be there.”

  “It’s tomorrow evening at Muldett’s,” he said.

  “Muldett’s?”

  “The main banquet hall in Cold. About a mile up the road from town hall.”

  “Oh, okay.” I nodded in understanding. Cold, Montana was basically the size of my pinkie toe, and it hadn’t taken much for me to learn my way around town. “And what exactly is happening at this banquet hall?”

  “It’s a party. For Grace.”

  My brow lifted in surprise. A party for Grace?

  “It’s just a little tradition we’ve been doing since she passed,” he added. “We have a party on her birthday to celebrate her life. It’s been a good way for her mother and those who were closest to her—me included—to gain some closure in losing her so damn young. And Grace loved birthdays.”

  “Wow…” I paused and found myself at a loss for words.

  It was overwhelming, honestly. I mean, for one, it was pretty amazing that Grace’s family and friends did something like this to keep her memories alive, to keep her close to their hearts.

  But I was just a stand-in for a movie. I wasn’t sure how well I would fit into the equation that was her real-life family and friends.

  “Don’t overthink it, Ms. Ivy,” he said softly into my ear. “I want you there. Grace’s mom wants you there. Everyone wants you there. And like I said before, it would mean a lot to me if you’d come.”

  “Okay,” I responded, but uncertainty clenched at my stomach.

  Before I could express my concerns to him, three loud knocks on the front door damn near made me piss my pants.

  “You still there, sweetheart?” he asked, and I nodded as I stared at the door.

  What the hell? Who would be showing up here at nearly ten o’clock at night?

  “Ivy?” Sam asked again, and seeing as we were on the phone, I quickly realized my nod wasn’t a response he could hear.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Sorry. I�
�m still here.”

  Three more knocks filled the otherwise quiet space of Grace’s house.

  “Hold on, someone is knocking at my door.”

  “Don’t they know you’re an old lady who goes to bed before ten?”

  “Ha-ha, Sam. Funny,” I retorted as I walked to the door with the phone still pressed to my ear. I figured it was best to keep him on the line while I figured out who was making a late-night stop.

  Maybe it’s Levi?

  I ignored that thought and peeked out the window of the living room. It was pitch-black and I couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but thankfully, a few moments later, another few knocks were followed by a very familiar voice yelling my name.

  As I swung open the door, for some odd reason, my heart clenched slightly in disappointment.

  But that quickly dissipated, replaced by the comforting vision of one of my favorite people in the whole world.

  Same red hair. Matching emerald eyes. And a brilliant smile.

  Camilla.

  My assistant. My sister. A damn near reflection of me. My twin.

  “Holy shit!” I exclaimed as she stood on the front porch with her rolling suitcase sitting beside her feet. “I thought you weren’t coming for another few weeks?” My eyes narrowed. “What about all the shit you were doing for me in LA?”

  She shrugged. “I figured you needed someone to keep you company out here in the middle of nowhere, and I forked most of it off on Mariah. I can’t properly assist you from afar, now can I?”

  “Oh my gosh!” I smiled as wide as Texas. “This is the best surprise ever!”

  “Hello?” Sam’s voice filled my ear, and I quickly remembered I was still holding my phone. “Everything okay, Ivy?”

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered and grabbed the handle of Camilla’s suitcase and gestured for her to find solace from the frigid Montana weather inside the house. “Everything is fine,” I said into the receiver as I shut the door and clicked the lock into place.

  “Who’s there?” he asked. “Sounds like you’ve got a special visitor.”

  “It’s my sister, Camilla. She surprised me by coming into town a few weeks early.”

  “Aw, that’s nice,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Well, I’ll let you go since you’ve got some catchin’ up to do.”

  “Okay, Sam. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Oh, and bring that sister of yours along tomorrow night, okay?” he added, but it wasn’t really a question. He offered a quick goodnight, and then the line clicked dead.

  I set my phone down on the coffee table and wrapped my arms tightly around my sister with a giggle leaving my lips. “God, I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you so much, Cami.”

  “I missed you too,” she said and hugged me tighter. “I can’t wait to hear about everything that’s been going on the past several weeks. I feel so out of the loop!”

  She released her hold and stepped back to look at me.

  “Tell. Me. Everything. The people. The town. What in the hell you’ve been doing with your time? Every-thing,” she added with a wink. “But first, I need to pee and get out of these jeans. Denim is never a good idea for a long trip.”

  I smiled knowingly and pointed toward the hall. “Bathroom is on the left. Your bedroom is at the end of the hall.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh!” she said as she took off her jacket and set it down on the edge of the couch. “Mom and Dad are a little pissed at you for only calling them once since you’ve been in Montana. You should probably give them a ring and let them know you’re still alive and kicking.”

  “Whoops.” I grimaced. “I guess I’ve been a bit busy.”

  Camilla just smirked. “Definitely call them tomorrow. I’m tired of hearing Mom bitch about it. Plus, they miss their second-favorite daughter.”

  I laughed, but melancholy flittered at the edges of my heart. I missed them too.

  I was generally really good about keeping my folks in the loop, and usually, when I was away on location, I wanted to keep them in the loop. Phone calls with Dave and Helen Stone always made me feel better when things were stressful. Our little family of four was a tight-knit bunch, and it was very unlike me not to talk to them on at least a weekly basis.

  But ever since I’d arrived in Cold, my usual tendencies had been derailed. My focus fixated somewhere else.

  A sexy, brooding man with alpha-like tendencies and a badge.

  As I watched Camilla grab her suitcase and get settled in, I couldn’t ignore the pang inside my chest.

  She wanted me to tell her everything, but ironically, the one thing I probably should’ve talked to her about, I didn’t want to talk to her about.

  Levi.

  I had no idea what was happening between us. The other day, he’d rescued me. He’d been the white knight I hadn’t even known I’d needed. And now, one thing was for certain—I couldn’t get him off my mind.

  But for some reason, I just couldn’t talk to my sister about it yet.

  I needed more time.

  Time to understand it.

  Time to figure it out.

  Time to make sense of the strong feelings I’d so obviously developed for him, and time to see if he would turn on me again.

  I should’ve driven straight home after leaving the station this evening. But instead, I found myself cruising around Cold in the dark of night. The glow of the moon, a few streetlamps, and the headlights of my truck were the only things left in the inky blackness.

  I’d left work thirty minutes ago, and I was quickly starting to realize Cold was too damn small. If I kept making loops around the center of town, people would start to notice, and I needed to roam.

  Yeah, I definitely should’ve just gone home. But lately, it seemed I was never doing any of the things I should be doing.

  In the spirit of avoiding someone noticing my odd behavior, I took a right past town hall and found the open road.

  Today had been a long day.

  Before I’d gone into the station for an eight-hour shift, I’d worked on the set of Cold for a good five hours. I’d sat down with the director and discussed a few technical things related to police work, and then I’d had to sit beside him for what felt like an eternity as I watched Johnny and Ivy shoot sex scenes.

  Watching her fake-fucking Johnny Atkins didn’t sit well with me.

  And didn’t sit well with me was a really fucking nice way of saying torture.

  I tried to tell myself it was because they were portraying Grace and me. I even tried to tell myself it was because I was merely annoyed with being on set and watching take after take of the same scene while hearing the same lines over and over again.

  I failed.

  Ivy was the one I was seeing in those scenes, not Grace, and I was mesmerized each and every goddamn time. She was alluring and beautiful, and her body was under someone else’s.

  It was a recipe for hostile psychological captivity.

  So much so, even now, hours and hours later, I couldn’t shake her out of my thoughts.

  Another ten minutes into my drive and I pulled my truck to a stop just outside of the entrance to a driveway.

  But it wasn’t just any driveway.

  When the logical, rational side of my brain caught up with the fact that I was outside of Grace’s old house, which was now Ivy’s current home away from home, I sighed heavily and rested my head against the back of my seat in defeat.

  What the fuck, Levi?

  From the street, I could see that most of the lights were still on inside.

  She was home.

  Quickly, I averted my gaze to the opposite side of the road while I berated myself. The last thing I needed to be doing was peeking in her windows like a fucking creep.

  How in the hell had I ended up here?

  And more than that, why was I here?

  Because you want to see her.

  The last time I’d really spoken to her had been inside of her dressing room right after I’d step
ped onto set and told Boyce Williams, the spineless prick, to shut the fuck up.

  Ivy had needed someone to stand up for her, and in that moment, I hadn’t wanted that someone to be anyone else but me.

  But once she’d calmed down and we’d talked behind closed doors, the way she’d made me feel had been far too much for my tortured soul to handle. I’d left without saying much more than a goodbye.

  She pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I wasn’t sure how to handle any of it.

  Which was probably why my truck was currently sitting outside of her temporary residence.

  With a heavy exhale escaping my lungs, I rested my forehead against the cold leather of the steering wheel as my truck idled in place.

  Inside my head, my emotions, these fucking feelings, warred against one another.

  Go to her.

  You shouldn’t be here.

  But you obviously want to be here.

  You can’t be here.

  It was too much. All of it. Her.

  I had no idea what I was even wanting to get out of this. What good would it do if I just showed up in the middle of the night?

  And what was the end goal? Talking?

  I nearly laughed at my irrational naïveté.

  We wouldn’t talk. We never just talked. Every interaction Ivy and I had, even when we were screaming at one another, was always so much more than us merely talking.

  Before I gave myself any more time for impulsive, rash, fucking insane behavior, I wrapped my fingers around the shifter and slid it into drive.

  Back the way I came, I drove ten miles over the speed limit down the mostly open road until I reached the center of town again and spotted the one and only place that had the power to provide some sort of solace.

  As I pulled into the parking lot of Ruby Jane’s, I turned off my truck and sighed quietly into the cab. Fatigue was starting to seep into my pores, and I needed a distraction in the form of a stiff drink.

  The remnants of the several-hour discomfort I’d had to sit through while watching Ivy and Johnny fake-fuck each other on set, along with the overall exhaustion that was my constant emotional battle, sat inside my bones. And my appetite had been nonexistent all damn day.