Page 14 of Heart of Stone
“Hey,” Hawk murmurs, the softness in his voice a contradiction to the hard edges he’s shown me up until this point. “You gonna be good for your aunt, or we gonna have problems?”
The sight is enough to make my breath catch—the lethal biker holding my nephew like he’s done it a thousand times before, the sheer size of him making Adam look impossibly small. And then Adam flashes a gummy smile, cooing up at Hawk as if the man just hung the moon.
My ovaries practically detonate.
Uh-oh.
Desperate for a distraction from the sudden warmth pooling low in my belly, I focus on the bottle, pouring the warmed milk with more care than necessary.
“How did you know I’m their aunt?” My voice comes out shakier than I’d like, but I don’t dare meet his gaze, not when I can still feel the ghost of his touch lingering on my skin.
“Duck.”
I nod, shaking the bottle to disperse the milk, then test it against my skin.
“Okay, we’re good.” I hold out my arms for Adam. “Thanks for the use of your microwave. We’ll just be going?—”
Hawk plucks the bottle from my hand, offering it to Adam with an ease that surprises me. Adam takes it, greedily pulling at the nipple.
“Boy’s got an appetite,” Hawk says with a chuckle.
He may be a bit of a jerk, but the sight of this big, bad, scary biker feeding my baby nephew does strange and wonderful things to my libido.
I am not attracted to Hawk. I am not attracted to Hawk. I am not attracted to Hawk.
“I’ll take him now,” I say, reaching for Adam.
Hawk shifts Adam to his shoulder, patting his back with surprising gentleness for such large hands. “I got him.”
I open my mouth to argue, but honestly? Having someone else handle Adam for five minutes is too tempting to pass up.
Adam sucks down the milk like a champion, letting Hawk burp him with only the tiniest protest.
The traitor.
Hawk jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s get him home.”
“Bye, babe!” Ginger calls over her man’s shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger!”
I wave weakly, determined to never set foot in this place again.
The party has gotten rowdier in the short time we’ve been inside. More bikes line the street, their chrome glinting under the streetlights. Music still thumps, but the dancing has shifted from foreplay into all-out sex.
I hurry to keep up with Hawk’s longer stride as we cross the street. Adam begins to make sleepy snuffle sounds, one tiny fist curling into the leather of Hawk’s vest.
“Key?” Hawk asks when we reach Amanda’s door.
I fish it from my pocket, very aware of his large presence behind me as I unlock the door. The house is dark and quiet—at least the twins are still sleeping.
“His room?” Hawk’s voice is pitched low in the darkness.
“This way.” I lead him down the hall, using my phone’s flashlight to illuminate the path.
Hawk lays him down with the same careful movements he’s shown earlier, his hands gentle as he settles Adam onto the mattress.
Something in my chest squeezes as I watch this big, dangerous man be so tender with my baby nephew.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “For everything. The microwave, bringing him home…”
