Page 67

Then Hattie sighed and cast a dubious glance at the back seat of my bike.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

Gripping my shoulder for stability, she climbed on and straddled my bike. I tugged her arms around my middle until she was pressed against my back. Slowly, I rolled out of the driveway and onto the road. I avoided the highway—too busy, too fast and noisy—choosing quieter back roads with a scenic view.

Hattie clutched me tight, burying her face between my shoulder blades. After a few minutes, I felt the tension ease out of her. She slotted her chin over my shoulder, and a smile teased at her lips.

That’s my girl.

She tapped my arm and pointed to the sign for Riverstone Café, indicating where she wanted to stop for food. I sailed right by it without slowing.

“Are you kidnapping me?” she yelled over the wind and the engine.

I laughed and shook my head. Five minutes later, I pulled to a stop and parked in the driveway of our home. Hattie’s gaze roamed over it, taking in every detail.

“You didn’t sell the house?” she whispered, incredulous.

I unclipped her helmet, guiding her off the bike.

“Couldn’t bring myself to part with it,” I replied. “Sometimes, I swear I can still smell your perfume in there. Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

Hattie slipped her hand in mine as we headed up the sidewalk.

“Don’t tell me you learned how to cook while I was gone.”

“Fuck no,” I said. “I still burn my toast every morning. My club doesn’t let me go hungry though. Someone is usually stuffing food into my refrigerator when I’m not looking.”

I flicked on the lights as we entered the house, making our way to the kitchen. Pulling out a chair at the table, I gestured for Hattie to take a seat. She skimmed her palm over the table’s surface with a fond gesture.

“God, it’s like I never left.”

I smiled to myself, seeing her back home again. Rummaging around in the refrigerator, I came up with a Tupperware of black bean and lime taquitos that Tex had dropped off, and two beers. Grabbing a pair of forks from the silverware drawer, I sat across from Hattie at the table.

“Why the change of heart?” I asked, opening the container lid. The pungent scent of citrus made my mouth water. “I thought you liked Seattle.”

“It’s hard to be away from Connie,” Hattie admitted. “Wylie is growing up so fast, too. I feel like I’ve missed a lot already. And Emma is a darling, precious little girl.”

I nodded, heart squeezing in my chest. Waiting. Hoping. Living close to her sister was an understandable reason to return to Brightwater. But did that mean she was coming back to me? Or would I have to stand by and watch her fall in love with another man, right before my eyes?

I popped the top off one beer and slid it over to her.

“There’s a place for you here,” I offered. “And we could try for that baby you always wanted.”

Hattie blew out a breath and blinked in surprise.

“You can’t be serious, Neil. I’m forty-six.”

“So?” I shrugged. “You’re still taking birth control. There’s a chance you could get pregnant, right?”

She hesitated, staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

“An extremely slim one.”

I pushed the container of food aside and pulled Hattie into my lap. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to stay focused with her soft curves pressed against me.

“I don’t know how to be a dad, sweetheart,” I said. “But I’ll try my damnedest if that will make you happy. I can’t—can’t quit the club. And if—”

“Neil,” Hattie whispered. “I realize I pushed for the divorce…”