Page 43 of Heart of Stone
He nods. “We do a bit of everything. Businesses, private contracts, security systems, some bodyguard work.” His lips quirk. “We even do the odd celebrity.”
“Huh.” I try to reconcile this new information with what I know of him. “So you’re like… a legitimate businessman?”
His laugh is low and rich. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I’m not shocked, I just…” I gesture vaguely at his cut. “Didn’t expect that. Not in this small town, anyway.”
“What did you expect?”
"I don't know. Professional badass? Lady-killer? Definitely not someone who worries about thieves in the night."
He snorts. "Don’t underestimate football nights. Those drunk dads get pretty rowdy on their way home."
I laugh, surprised by his dry humor. "So that's how you afford your ride."
"Among other things." His phone buzzes, and he glances at it briefly before turning it face down. "Ready to get out of here?"
My pulse jumps at his tone. "And go where?"
His smile is wicked. "Anywhere you want, little lamb."
"Want to take the long way home?" I ask as he pays for our meal.
“Sounds great.”
The night is perfect for riding—warm enough that the wind feels good against my skin, cool enough that pressing against him isn’t uncomfortable.
Instead of heading back down the mountain, he turns onto a winding road that hugs the ridge line. The moon hangs low and full, painting the valley in silver light. Each curve opens up new views—the twinkling lights of town below, the dark expanse of forest, the silver ribbon of river cutting through it all.
The bike purrs between my thighs as we ride, powerful and controlled. Hawk handles it like it’s an extension of himself, taking each curve with precision that speaks of years of experience. I find myself relaxing into the rhythm of it, letting my body move with his as we carve through the night.
We pass the old fire tower, its skeletal frame stark against the star-filled sky. The road narrows, trees pressing closer on either side, their branches forming a canopy overhead.
Moonlight filters through the leaves, creating shifting patterns on the asphalt.
Hawk slows as we approach a break in the trees, pulling off onto a small turnout. The valley spreads out below us, wider here than at the restaurant's viewpoint. The lights of three towns dot the darkness, connected by thin ribbons of highway.
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" he asks as he kills the engine.
I stay where I am, still pressed against his back, my arms around his waist. "Worth the detour."
His hand covers mine where it rests on his stomach. "You haven’t seen anything yet."
He’s right. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, more details emerge. The silhouette of mountains against the star-filled sky. The movement of clouds across the moon. A shooting star streaks across the horizon, and I catch my breath.
"Make a wish," he murmurs.
I snort. "That’s not very badass of you."
His laugh rumbles through his chest. "I contain multitudes, little lamb."
I close my eyes.
What do you wish for when your entire life has been turned upside down in the span of a week? For Amanda to come back? For her to stay gone? For money? For time? For answers?
I think of the kids—Abby’s determined little frown when she’s concentrating, Amy’s belly laugh when she’s truly happy, Adam’s gummy smile. They deserve so much more than what life has given them.
Strength. I wish for strength. Strength to be what they need, to build them the life they deserve, to not screw this up the way everyone else in their lives has.
