Page 51 of Rock Chick Bonus Tracks

Mace felt his lips twitch as he continued moving toward the bungalow.

He let himself in and saw Stella and a mug of coffee at the table by the back window.

Her shining, thick, long, wild hair was sexy messy, her beautiful face still held a residue of sleep.

Her gaze came direct to him. It took in his body slicked with sweat, and a hungry look pushed out the sleep on her face.

He took that hungry as an invitation.

And he accepted.

“Get in our bed,” he growled.

Her eyes shot from the tee plastered to his chest, up to his face, then she got off her sweet ass and hightailed it to bed.

Sprawled across the white sheets, Mace watched Stella come out of the bathroom after cleaning up.

She stopped long enough to pull on some baby-blue panties and a tight white tank that didn’t quite meet the waistband of the underwear before she put a knee to the bed and crawled into it to collapse half down his side, half on the bed.

Mace shoved a hand under her, curled it up and rested it on her ass.

She stacked her hands on his chest and took one of what had become many surveys of his face during their time in Los Angeles.

“I’m fine,” he murmured, giving her ass a squeeze.

He could answer her unspoken question because he knew what was on her mind.

Tiny had lived in LA, and Mace had spent a lot of time in LA when she did.

She also died in LA.

Stella knew all this, and his woman was worried it was going to get to him.

She was right to worry.

It was getting to him.

Then again, he’d never get over losing Tiny. He just needed to fight his way to understanding that it was natural, an honor to her memory, what she deserved, and maybe that would help him live with it.

Having his mom and Chloe back was a balm he didn’t know he needed.

But Stella did.

On that thought, he gave her ass another squeeze.

“You should go surfing while we’re here,” she suggested.

“Babe,” he warned.

“I’m assuming you got so good at it because you liked to do it. Don’t you miss it?”

He did.

But that held memories of Caitlin too.

He still snowboarded, and Caitlin loved her big brother, she’d been with him when he was on a mountain.

“I board,” he said, not meaning to do it, not used to sharing.

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