Page 25 of Hawk

Home at Last

HAWK

Finding the pillow beside me empty is a rude awakening in the morning. I jolt up, about to call out for Etain, when I hear a faint humming and smell the aroma of bacon sizzling. I climb out of bed, remembering that I still don’t have fresh clothes to change into, and reach for my phone to see what’s keeping Shooter from bringing my overnight bag over. Then I hear Shooter’s booming voice coming from the other room.

“Thanks for inviting me to breakfast. Diner’s got great eats, but it’s sure nice not to have to fight the breakfast rush,” I hear him say.

“It’s nothing special. Just bacon, eggs, and toast, but there’s plenty. It’s nice to get to know you better,” Etain replies, and then she asks Shooter how long he’s been working at the shop. Before they get too far into their conversation, I call out to Shooter.

“Yo, bud, before you two continue shooting the shit, bring me my bag.” In seconds, Shooter is knocking on the door.

“You decent?” He pokes his head in. “Hey, man. Here’s your stuff.” He holds up the black leather bag.

“Thanks. Drop it over there. I thought you were sending a prospect.” I run a hand over my face, wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

“I thought I’d come by with news from Drifter. He’s got some insight into Gunner’s plan for the drop. He’s already called Raven. Drifter was going to call you last night, but decided to give you a night to yourself. He’s going to meet you at the tattoo shop for ten,” Shooter says.

“You and Flex are on Etain after I drop her off. I’ll take Decker with me.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to see if I can help Etain with breakfast while you get ready.” He leaves me to get dressed. Shooter’s a good man with a big heart. Unfortunately, he learned the hard way that not all people are as kind as he is. His biological brother fucked his wife and then took his house in the divorce. His brother and ex-wife have since married and are having a kid together. What’s worse is that Shooter’s parents are caught in the middle of it all. They don’t condone what Brett’s done, but they don’t want to be excluded from their grandchild’s life. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and Shooter’s decided that he wants nothing to do with his brother, ex-wife, or their kid. It sucks because Shooter and Brett were best friends growing up.

“Be right out,” I say at the closed door. I quickly get dressed and saunter out to see Shooter sitting at the table and talking to Etain like she’s been part of the Redemption Riders for years. They both see me watching from the hallway, and Etain’s the first one to speak.

“Hey, honey. Shooter’s joining us for breakfast. How did you sleep?” She says it like it’s happened a hundred times before and doesn’t bat an eye. I walk over to her, placing my hand on the back of her head, holding it steady, and kissing her hard on the mouth.

“I slept good, Ginger. Next time you’re up before me, wake me,” I demand.

“Whatever for? You needed your rest,” she says innocently, still breathless from our kiss.

I shake my head and give her a sexy smile. “Babe.” The meaning behind my words dawns on her, and she gives me a playful slap on my arm.

“Grab a plate and go eat,” she orders. I fill my own plate, and join them. I watch as Shooter and Etain gab away, noticing just how easily she fits in. First Drifter, then Shooter. Etain has a simple way about her that puts everyone at ease.

A knock on the door has me up before Etain, but she tugs on my arm.

“Relax, it’s probably Sasha. She usually does a ‘good morning’ visit,” she says, then goes to open the door. Sasha’s waiting on the other side with a platter of muffins.

“Good morning!” Sasha says cheerfully. “I made chocolate zucchini muffins.” She sees that Etain is not alone. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She tries to hand off the muffins, but Etain drags her inside.

“Have coffee with us,” Etain insists. Sasha hesitates to come in any further. She’s always been reserved and quiet. I’m sure it isn’t often that she walks into a place with two big bikers sitting at a tiny kitchen table in a house that looks like it’s made for a princess.

I checked out Etain’s place yesterday and saw that it was decorated with a woman in mind, with soft, warm colors, crystal chandeliers, and nothing else a guy would have at his place.

“You’re busy,” Sasha replies. “You have guests.”

“I’m never too busy for my friend,” Etain tells her, linking her arm through Sasha’s. “Besides, you know Hawk.” She extends her hand in Shooter’s direction. “Then that’s Shooter, wolfing down his bacon and eggs over there.” Shooter gives Etain his sad puppy-dog eyes, like he’s wounded by her words, causing her to laugh.

“Hi, Shooter,” Sasha says with a little wave. She looks up at me. “Hi, Hawk, want a muffin?”

“Zucchini and chocolate? How does that work?” I’m not a baker, but a vegetable and chocolate don’t seem like they’d mix together.

“They’re really good. Honest,” she says. I don’t know what I’m in for, but I can see that Etain is very close to Sasha, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I take one off the plate and bite into it.

The light chocolate and cinnamon combination is delicious, and I wouldn’t even know that zucchini was part of the recipe. “Oh my God, these are fantastic.” I turn to Shooter. “You’re going to want to try this.” Shooter looks skeptical, but Etain hands him one anyway. He takes a bite, and his eyes grow wide, but he doesn’t say a word, he just simply reaches out and takes two more and puts them on his plate.

Sasha begins to laugh. “I’m glad you like them. I made far too many and have another dozen at my place. There’s no way I can eat all of them.” She follows Etain and sits on a stool while Etain pours her coffee.

“The guys at the shop would devour them,” I tell her. “You like to bake, huh?”

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