Fall (VIP 3)

I run a hand over my morning scruff. “Who the hell knocks on the door at …” A glance at the clock has my frown growing. “Nine in the morning? No one I know would visit this early and expect to live.”

She laughs, all warm and husky from sleep. Her hair is a wild nimbus around her face as she turns and smiles up at me from her spot on the pillow. “Hey, I’m just the pet sitter. It’s probably someone looking for Killian?”

“Whoever it is, they aren’t going to like me.” Dislodging the cat, who yowls his annoyance, I reach for my sweats and haul them on. My dick tents out the front and, with a grimace, I tuck it against the waistband. “I was about to get some.”

Stella snorts with amusement. “Sure you were, big guy.”

I grab a shirt as I walk toward the bedroom door, but pause at the threshold to look back. Stella lies twisted in the gray sheet, not bothering to hide her breasts—those perfect, plump tits with nipples now perked up like ripe berries. My dick throbs in protest. I empathize. “Oh, babe, I’ll get some and give it back with interest, and you’ll love it.”

Her gaze lowers to my hard-on, and she hums low in her throat. Damn, it sounds like a purr. “If you get rid of whoever it is fast enough, we can talk about that whole back-door suggestion.”

Heat licks up my spine, and I almost crawl back into bed. Gripping the doorframe to keep from doing just that, I give her a long look. “Have I mentioned today how much I love you? Like really, really love you. Enough to get on my knees behind you and …”

She laughs and chucks a pillow my way. “Men. Hint at offering up some ass and look how willing you are to get on your knees.”

Grinning, I pull on my shirt. “You already have me on my knees, Stella Button. Giving me some of that fine ass only sweetens the deal.” I blow her a kiss and head to the front door. Truth is, I don’t need anything more than what she’s given me to be completely content.

Then again, the thought of her peach ass … I shake my head and focus. A peek through the keyhole has me pausing. I don’t know the guy standing on the other side, but he doesn’t look like a stalker fan. More like an accountant. Shorter than me, with dark curly hair and wearing thin gold wire-rimmed glasses, he’s also dressed in a bland gray suit on a Sunday—and he’s clutching a small jewelry box.

Hell, maybe he’s one of Stella’s clients coming to profess his love for her.

I open the door with a little more force than necessary. “Can I help you?”

The man blinks as though he’s forgotten why he’s here, and I notice his eyes are red and puffy.

“I’m looking for Jax Blackwood. I believe he lives in one of the penthouses but I wasn’t certain which one.”

The hell?

“I’m Jax,” I say, glancing at the box in his hand, then back to his face. This is getting weird, and the part of me who has been groomed to be leery of all strangers wants to back away and shut the door. But there’s a sadness to the guy that makes me unsure. Behind me, I hear Stella coming down the stairs, and a feeling of protectiveness hits me so hard, I nearly jolt. My hackles rise, and I brace my feet, put my body between her and the stranger at the door.

The guy doesn’t seem to notice her, though, and pulls himself straighter. “Oh, good. I’m Leo, Madeline’s son.”

“Maddy?” I say, as Stella stops at my side. “Is she okay?”

Every pained line of Leo’s face tells me she’s not.

Leo swallows thickly. “Mom passed away last week.”

The room tilts. Stella grips my elbow.

“I’m …” I clear my throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I step back and gesture for him to come in. Leo follows me into the living room and sits at the edge of a chair.

“Would you like some coffee?” Stella asks him. She’s pale and shaken, but her attention darts to me, assessing how upset I am.

“No, thank you.”

She perches on the arm of the couch, her body leaning into mine. Her hand settles at my nape, holding on lightly. I don’t know if the touch is for me or for her, but I appreciate it all the same.

Leo pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Mom spoke highly of you. She said you would make her dinner from time to time.”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” But not enough. Jesus, when had I last talked to Maddy? I cringe. It had been the night of the blizzard. Then I’d gotten Stella in my sights, and the last thing I thought of doing was visiting my neighbor. Guilt lands in my gut with a resounding thud. “Your mom was something special.”