Page 11 of Dad Bod Secret Santa

We do as the timer counts down and the camera flashes.

Hank moves beside me and whispers in my ear, “I could get used to this.”

CHAPTER 6

HANK

Isettle in my chair at the long, well-worn table in Jax’s office at The Lodge, surrounded by Ace, Ethan, Jordan, Luke, and Damien—the guys I work with up here on Silver Pine Ridge. Jax sits at the head of the table, relaxed but sharp-eyed as always. Waylon is right beside him, his dark eyes intense, his energy radiating around the room. He taps his fingers thoughtfully against a manila folder.

“So,” Waylon begins, leaning forward, “I’ve been giving some thought to expanding what we do with Creek Ravine.”

A murmur goes up around the table. We only recently learned about Creek Ravine—most of us couldn’t identify the area on a map. When we discovered that a King had regained possession of the entire mountain, we weren’t sure what would happen with us here on Silver Pine Ridge. But so far, he’s mostly left us to continue living as we have been.

Jax strokes his beard and nods. “What do you have in mind?”

Waylon pauses a moment before answering, taking the time to look at each of us in turn. “My buddy, Jake, over at GhostSecurity has been brainstorming with me. We’ve talked about adding a couple of small cabins around Silver Pine Ridge to serve as safe houses. They’ve had some clients recently who need extra protection, and I want to help provide that. I also respect that you all have been up here for a while, doing your own things. I’m here to talk about if you all would be on board with this and if you think it’s feasible with what else you have going on.”

Jax asks questions about funding for building the cabins and who will be responsible for them. After Waylon answers all his questions, Jax eventually nods. “That all sounds reasonable and doable to me. If you vouch for Jake and Ghost Security, that’s enough for me—if it’s enough for my men.”

We all nod in agreement.

Jax nods at Waylon. “Looks like we don’t have to discuss this further. Waylon, we’re in to help with this. You got a timeline for getting the cabins built and operational?”

Waylon sits back in his chair, clearly relieved we agreed. It’s his mountain, so he can do whatever he damn well pleases, but it speaks volumes that he includes us in decisions. “That’s exactly what I hoped to hear. Thank you, all of you. Jax,” he says, turning, “I’ll put you in contact with Jake, and we can work out all the logistics together. I don’t imagine it’ll take too long to build a couple of cabins once the weather warms up.”

I nod, satisfied that this is a project we’re going to handle. Protecting and helping people is the core of who I am as a man, same as everyone sitting at this table. We all served in the military—most of us in the Army, though Ace is an outlier and was a Navy SEAL—so protecting others is baked into the soul of who we are.

Jax fills Waylon in on how the Christmas tree farm is going and how it’s doing better than we projected, which pleases Waylon.

“Word got out that it was a fundraiser for Warrior Cares, and people have been coming from all over Heartland to get a tree and support the cause. We’ve been busy as hell,” Jax says, nodding toward me.

“That’s good work,” Waylon says. “Let’s plan on making this a yearly thing.”

The thudof darts hitting the board punctuates our conversation as we wind down from the meeting. Jordan’s winning, as usual. I take a pull from my beer, letting the familiar comfort of The Lodge wash over me.

“Your turn, Hank,” Ace calls, holding out a set of darts.

I push off from the bar and line up my shot. As I throw my dart, Cody clears his throat.

“So... that crush of yours still staying at your place?”

My dart hits the wall a good three inches from the board. “Goddamit! Really?”

Damien snickers and leans back in his chair.

“She has a name,” I mutter, retrieving the dart. “It’s Maggie.”

“Maggie,” Jordan echoes, drawing out the syllables. “The one whose power went out?”

“The one whose daughter is best friends with Vivian,” I correct, though I’m not sure why I’m engaging. I know all thisbullshitting is par for the course, but it hits differently when it’s about someone you truly care for. It’s not like shooting the shit about the one-night stands some of these guys brag about. There are things you don’t say about women you want a shot at building a future with. “Maggie is not up for discussion.”

“Ooh, defensive.” Cody elbows Damien. “Must be serious.”

I line up another dart, trying to ignore them. It lands closer to the bullseye this time, but not by much.

“Have you made a move yet?” Jordan asks.

“We’re not in high school,” I say, but my mind flashes to the way Maggie looked this morning, sleep-rumpled and beautiful in my kitchen. Then I remember last night, the way we fooled around in the front seat of my truck.Thatfelt a lot like high school—getting out of the house so you could have a few precious minutes with the woman who makes your heart race and your cock stand at attention.

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