Page 32 of Heart of Stone
HAWK
The clubhouse is dark when I get home except for a soft glow from the kitchen. It’s after midnight, and I’m not expecting to find anyone up and moving. Instead, I find Andi in the kitchen, Adam cradled in one arm as she feeds him. She glances up as I enter, her eyes widening slightly at my, no doubt, disheveled look.
Let’s just say tampering with construction vehicles isn’t exactly the easiest—or cleanest—job.
"You look like shit," she says softly, mindful of the other occupants in the house.
"Feel like it." I drop into a kitchen chair, exhaustion hitting hard now that I'm home. The smell of something delicious lingers in the air, tempting my tastebuds. "You cooked?"
"Lasagna. I made you a plate. It’s in the fridge, if you're hungry."
“Fuck yes.”
She begins to move but I wave her off.
"Stay. I can get it." I push myself up, ignoring the protests of bruised muscles. "You've got your hands full."
She smiles, leaning back as Adam quietly sucks at the remainder of his formula.
I grab the plate, watching her as I reheat my food. She's beautiful like this—soft and unguarded in the middle of the night, humming quietly to the baby as he eats. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and she wears an old T-shirt over faded sleep shorts. The sight does something to my insides.
This is a side of her the garage never sees. The ice queen mechanic, melted into this gentle creature who stays up late to feed a baby that isn't even hers.
"He always eat this late?" I ask, sitting down with my plate.
"Mm. Like clockwork."
I raise an eyebrow. “My sister has kids. I don’t remember them needing multiple feeds at his age.”
She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “He was born early. He’s small for his age. The doctor said the extra feeds aren’t a bad thing at this point. She suggested he’ll grow out of it when he’s ready.”
I nod, lifting my fork to stab a mouthful of the piping hot lasagna.
"Wasn't expecting you to cook." The words come out rougher than intended. “Thanks.”
Her eyes meet mine. "You’re welcome.” A small smile curves her lips. “It’s the least I can do when you’re putting up with us.”
I lift my fork to my mouth, wincing as my body protests. The cuts have started bleeding again, and I’m pretty sure the shoulder is bruised.
Fucking hell.
"Jesus, Hawk." She leans across the table to catch my hand, examining the damage. "What did you do, punch concrete?"
Close enough.Summit's equipment had been a little more stubborn than expected.
"It's nothing."
She shoots me a look that says she isn't buying it. "Stay put. Let me put him down and grab the first-aid kit."
I watch as she disappears down the hall, the baby now milk-drunk and sleepy against her shoulder. Her quiet efficiency with him, the natural way she soothes his fussy noises, it hits me right in the chest.
What the fuck? When did I start finding maternal instincts so damn sexy?
She returns minutes later with a battered first-aid kit.
"You don't have to?—"
"Shut up and eat." She pulls her chair closer, taking my free hand. "If I don’t clean this it’ll get infected."
