Page 30 of Heart of Stone
Smart kid.
"They’re not going to bite," Andi says, pouring juice. "Much."
"They already like you," I add. "Might as well accept your fate."
Steel shuffles over, immediately getting grabbed by tiny hands.
"Fairy!" one of the twins declares.
"No fairy," Steel protests weakly.
"Yes fairy," the other insists.
Lee’s laughter fills the kitchen. "Oh man, wait till the others hear about this."
I point my spatula at him. "One word and I’ll tell Stone about Kya."
His laughter dies instantly. "You wouldn’t."
"Try me."
"Who’s Kya?" Andi asks, hip-checking me out of the way. "And you’re doing that wrong. Here, let me."
"No one," Lee mutters, glaring at me.
The twins have already moved on to braiding Steel’s hair–or at least twisting it up in knots.
Just another morning in the MC.
An hour later, the kitchen’s a war zone of sticky plates and scattered chocolate chips. The prospects have filtered in one by one, drawn by the smell of food and the sound of laughter.
Now they’re all sprawled around the kitchen in various states of food coma while the twins nap on Steel’s chest, where he’s passed out on the couch.
"Church in ten," Duck calls, poking his head in.
I nod, my gaze catching on Andi as she wipes down the counter one-handed, Adam balanced easily on her hip. She moves through the club’s kitchen like she belongs with us, humming softly under her breath as she works.
Jesus. I need her either gone or under me before this attraction burns me alive. No woman has ever managed to get under my skin like Andi with an i.
"I got this," she says, catching my look. "Go do your mysterious biker business."
Her tone’s light, but her sharp gaze misses nothing—not the looks between me and Duck, not the way conversations stop when she walks in, not the careful way we all talk around certain subjects.
"You sure?"
I mentally kick myself for the question. The woman is perfectly capable of looking after herself, but I can’t help but ask.
She raises an eyebrow. "I think I can handle cleanup and three sleeping kids. Besides"—she nods toward Steel—"looks like I’ve got help."
Poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance.
"Alright, boys," I call out. "Let’s move."
The prospects scramble to their feet, trying to look alert despite their pancake-induced comas. Lee stretches lazily, shooting Andi a wink that makes my hands itch to knock him out.
"Thanks for breakfast, darlin’."
"Any time," she replies easily. Too easily.
