is Cheer?” he asked her, grinning.
“Yes. For some reason Mom thought those names were cute for us. She claims she knew my sister would bring her cheer and I would give her joy.” She chuckled. “I’m sure she began having her doubts when I decided to become a cop.”
Joy shifted in her seat, and his gaze followed the movement and saw a flash of thigh. Although he was certain it hadn’t been intentional, he couldn’t help but appreciate it. “We try to get together around the holidays. I last saw everyone at Mother’s Day.”
She paused a minute and then asked, “What about you? I know you have a grandmother and sister living here.”
“Yes, my grandmother and sister live in Charlottesville,” he said, then took a sip of coffee. He intended to tell her about himself, as well. No need to keep anything hidden. He would be the first to admit he’d made bad decisions in his life, decisions he wasn’t proud of but had definitely paid for making. He believed at thirty-four he was a better person because of those experiences, and he looked at things a lot differently than he had while in his teens and early twenties, when he thought the world owed him something and he intended to get it.
Returning to his seat, he stretched his legs out in front of him. “I was born in Charlottesville thirty-four years ago. My grandmother lives in the same house I grew up in as a kid. Nothing my sister and I said or did could get her to move. She says they don’t build houses like hers these days.”
He paused a minute to take another sip of his coffee. “Now, in a way, I’m glad she didn’t move. The area she lives in went through a revitalization and resurgence. A lot of the abandoned homes were renovated, and new small businesses opened up shop. Magnolia Oaks is now a sought-after diverse community of young professionals, artists and revelers who enjoy the numerous nightlife hot spots in the area. With roads shaded by magnolia trees, you can get to practically anywhere by either foot or bicycle. Granny Kay’s home has quadrupled in value. She loves being one of the eldest neighbors amid ‘a sea of young folk,’ as she puts it. They spoil her rotten, and she does the same for them.”
“Granny Kay?”
He smiled. “Yes. Her real name is Katherine, but to me and my sister, she’s always been Granny Kay. Her only child was my father. When my parents were killed, she became our legal guardian.”
Joy shifted in her seat again to cross her legs, and he couldn’t stop the heated sensations that stirred inside him. There was nothing indecent about the movement and he couldn’t fault her for owning such a gorgeous pair. They were legs that looked simply amazing in a pair of heels. “How were your parents killed?” she asked.
“Hurricane Andrew. We were left with Granny Kay while they vacationed with friends in Miami. They weren’t able to evacuate in time, and their hotel was demolished, killing everyone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It was hard on me and my sister. I was nine and she was five. Luckily we had our grandparents.” He sighed. “My grandfather never got over losing his only child and died of a heart attack less than a year later. Granny Kay said it was grief that killed him.”
He took another sip of his coffee when he realized that in just a short span of time, he’d shared more about himself with her than he had with any other woman.
* * *
JOY LIKED THE sound of Stonewall’s voice. From the first night they’d met she’d thought it oozed with sexiness, just like the rest of him. If he’d had any idea what seeing him sitting across from her with his legs stretched out in front of him was doing to her, he would have sat up straight. When had she allowed any man to totally capture not only her attention and interest, but also her desire?
She’d been attracted to him from the first. There was something about Stonewall Courson that kept her intrigued, mesmerized. She knew that was why she made it a point to show up every morning before the start of her workday for coffee and doughnuts at the Monroe Street Café, hoping she would run into him there. Or at Shady Reds after work, anticipating their paths crossing. Their encounters, when he was in town, lasted only five to ten minutes. Enough time to get a feel for his personality and decide he was someone she wanted to know better.
She wasn’t interested in anything serious, just a diversion from the complexities of her job. And he had definitely been that. She had enjoyed their brief encounters, the how-are-you-doing text messages she would get whenever he was traveling, and the occasional phone calls that had promised one day they would find the time for more. It was hard to believe that day had finally arrived.
What he’d just shared with her definitely went beyond small talk. After becoming fascinated with him months ago, she’d done her research, but what she’d found had covered only his later years, his arrest at the age of nineteen and his life after that. She appreciated him filling in the blanks.
“What about your name?”
He quirked a brow at her. “What about it?”
“There has to be a story behind it.”
He chuckled. “Really, there’s no story, other than Stonewall is my mom’s maiden name. She was Vivienne Stonewall. Her mother died of cancer when she was in college, and her father died a year later of the same thing. I never knew either of them, but I knew she adored them both and thought giving me her family’s name would be a way to honor their memory.”
“She was the only child?”
“Yes. She was her parents’ only child.’
Joy didn’t say anything for a minute, thinking she really liked being here with him. “How old is your grandmother?” she asked him, trying to stay relaxed and finding it hard to do so.
When they’d boarded the jet, he’d removed his tux jacket and loosened his bow tie. Some men looked okay in a tux and some looked as if the masculine formal attire had been made just for them to wear. Stonewall was one of the latter.
She was a very observant person and was aware each time his gaze roamed up and down every single inch of her body. She was aware of what she did to him with something as inconsequential as shifting in her seat or crossing her legs. She was not intentionally trying to affect him in any way, but the woman in her couldn’t help appreciate that she had the ability to do so.
“She will be seventy-two in a few months.”
She watched his lips move and wondered how any man could have such a luscious pair. And that beard surrounding his mouth was a total turn-on for her. Deciding to keep him talking, she said, “Tell me about your sister.”
He smiled, and from that single expression she detected an extreme fondness. “Amelia, who everyone calls Mellie, is four years younger than I am, and is a doctor at St. Francis Memorial.”
“She lives with your grandmother?”
“No, but she lives close enough. Right around the corner. That way both Granny Kay and Mellie can have the independence and privacy they both enjoy since both are dating age.”
She blinked. “Your about-to-turn-seventy-two-year-old grandmother dates?”
“Yes.”
“Good for her.”
He stroked his
