Page 42 of Heart of Stone
The nickname should annoy me. Instead, it sends shivers down my spine.
"Food," I manage. "You promised food."
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his expression promising all sorts of things that have nothing to do with dinner. "Food first."
"First?"
His grin is pure sin. "Then we see if you taste as good as I remember."
I swallow hard. "That’s… that’s not playing fair."
"Never claimed to be fair." He steps back, holding out his hand. "Coming?"
This is such a bad idea. But as I put my hand in his, I can’t bring myself to care.
The restaurant sits nestled into the mountainside, windows overlooking the valley below. String lights twinkle along the rustic wooden deck, and the smell of grilled food makes my stomach growl.
"Not what you expected?" Hawk asks, helping me off the bike.
"I figured we’d end up at some dive bar with peanut shells on the floor."
"That’s tomorrow night."
"Funny."
His hand settles on my lower back as he guides me inside. The hostess’s eyes widen slightly at Hawk’s cut; this seems like the kind of place you’d normally need to wear a tie for, but she just plasters a smile on her face and leads us to a corner table with a view.
“This is…” I look around at the intimate lighting, the couples sharing wine and quiet conversation. “Nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” He pulls out my chair. “I do know how to treat a woman.”
“Apparently.”
His eyes darken. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
The wine is good, the food even better. Conversation flows easily—he asks about my work, and we bond over motorcycle wreck horror stories. I tell him stories about the twins and Adam; he tells me about his time serving overseas.
We carefully avoid talking about the club or my situation with Amanda.
It feels... normal. Almost too normal.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he says as we finish our meal.
“Just wondering when the other shoe’s going to drop.”
“Why does it have to?”
I trace the rim of my wine glass. “Because good things don’t just happen. Not in my experience.”
“Maybe it’s time for some new experiences.”
The heat in his voice has me meeting his eyes. The way he’s looking at me… like I’m something he wants to devour.
“What do you do for a job?” I ask, suddenly curious that he hasn’t disclosed.
He leans back in his chair. “I own Stoneheart Security.”
I frown, trying to work out how I know the name. “Oh, that’s the company that handles security for Duck, right?”
