Page 14 of Hard as Stone (Stoneheart MC #2)

POPPY

I fidget with the hem of my dress, wondering if wearing the same one was a mistake. But it’s not like I have much choice—this is literally the only dress I own. When you grow up in a family of construction workers, fancy isn’t exactly a priority.

The late afternoon sun catches on my bedazzled boots as I wait outside the diner where Axel told me to meet him.

I’d refused to let him pick me up at home—between Dad’s increasingly suspicious behavior and my brothers’ overprotectiveness, sneaking out seemed like the safest option.

Maria had been a godsend, letting me change at her place and agreeing to be my cover story.

“That man’s got a good heart under all that leather,” she’d said while helping me with my makeup.

“The way he checks on me and the kids, makes sure we’re taken care of since Jack passed.

.. The MC might have its issues, but Axel’s one of the good ones. ”

I’d been touched by her faith in him, even more so by how quick she was to help me get ready for this date. Having an ally in Paradise made sneaking around feel less lonely, even if my current position outside the diner still has my stomach in knots.

The familiar rumble of his bike has me looking up, warmth flooding my chest as he pulls to the curb. He’s wearing dark jeans and an actual button-down shirt under his cut, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of him. How does he make cleaned up look even more dangerous and sexy?

“Poppy,” he says in greeting as his eyes roam over me and he kills the engine.

“Before you say anything, yes, I’m wearing the same dress,” I announce, folding my arms across my middle. “It’s the only one I own. So any smart comments can disappear from the end of your tongue before you even speak them.”

Axel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he dismounts from his bike. “Only thing I want on the end of my tongue is hidden beneath my favorite dress.”

My cheeks flush at Axel’s suggestive comment. Before I can come up with a witty retort, he closes the distance between us, his hand coming to rest on my hip.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly, eyes and hands roaming.

I place my palms against his chest and look up at his handsome face. He smells amazing, and he’s even combed his beard straight. “Cleaned up’s not a bad look on you either, Road Captain.”

He gives me a grin that makes my knees weak. “Even got a tie in my saddlebag.” He tugs me closer. “But first...”

The kiss is softer than our others, less desperate but no less consuming. Like he’s savoring the taste of me, learning what makes me melt. But he wouldn’t need to take a class on that. It’s literally just him. Everything he is.

“Been wanting to do that since I left you last night,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Only since last night?” I can’t help teasing. “Not since that first day with the stop sign?”

His low chuckle vibrates through me. “Wanted to do a lot more than kiss you that day, trouble.”

“Can we even do all that on your bike?” I ask, only half joking.

Axel’s eyes darken at my words, his grip on my hip tightening. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for you tonight that don’t involve giving the whole town a show.”

“Plans, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at the promise in his voice. “Care to share those plans with your date?”

“You’ll see.” He shrugs out of his cut and holds it out. “But first, put this on.”

My heart skips. “Axel?—”

“Where you belong is on the back of my bike wearing my leather,” he says, voice low, serious.

Heat pools in my belly as I let him slide the cut over my shoulders. The leather is warm and heavy, enveloping me in my favorite scent—Axel’s.

“Ready?” he asks, eyes dark as he takes a good look at me in his cut.

I nod, suddenly breathless. He helps me onto the bike, his hands lingering on my waist as I settle behind him. The dress rides up slightly as I straddle the seat, and I feel more than hear Axel’s sharp intake of breath.

“Hold on tight, troublemaker,” he growls, kicking the bike to life.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing myself against his broad back as we roar out of town.

The wind whips through my hair, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

There’s something wildly freeing about being on the back of Axel’s bike, wearing his cut, not knowing where we’re going but trusting him completely.

We ride for about twenty minutes, leaving the familiar streets of Stoneheart behind.

As we crest a hill, I gasp at the view. The valley spreads out below us, bathed in the golden light of sunset.

From up here, the contrast between the town’s districts is stark—the smooth, well-lit streets of the wealthy east side gleaming while the west side’s torn-up roads create a patchwork of construction sites and detours.

Lights are starting to twinkle on in town, and the cooling mountain air feels fresh in my lungs.

Axel takes the curves with easy confidence, each turn revealing more of the spectacular view.

Just when I think we can’t go any higher, he slows, turning into a parking lot carved into the mountainside.

A weathered wooden sign reads ‘La Bella Vita’ in elegant script, soft light spilling from the windows of what looks like a converted old lodge.

“La Bella Vita,” I read aloud, my eyes widening as I recognize the name. “The fancy Italian place?” I’ve heard of it—everyone in town has—but I’ve never been up here to see if it really exists.

“Problem?” There’s an edge to his question as he kills the engine, like he’s waiting for me to balk.

“No problem.” I shift closer, still straddling the bike behind him, letting my lips brush his ear. “Just wondering what a nice boy like you is doing, taking a girl like me to a place like this.”

His laugh is low and rich. “Trust me, trouble. I’m not a nice boy.”

“No?” I press closer, enjoying the way his breath catches. “Prove it.”

The way he turns to look at me makes my insides ache. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

The endearment should annoy me, but something about the growl in his voice just makes me want to push harder. “I’m not scared of you, Road Captain.”

His answering chuckle vibrates through me. “No. And that’s what makes you dangerous.”

He helps me off the bike, his hands lingering on my hips longer than necessary. Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulls out a black silk tie.

“Need help with that?” I offer, taking it from his hands before he can answer.

His eyes darken as I step closer, draping the tie around his neck. “Didn’t figure you for the type who knows how to tie these things.”

“I’m full of surprises.” I focus on looping the silk, trying to ignore how intimate this feels. How my knuckles brush against his throat with each movement, how his breath fans warm across my face.

“That you are, trouble.” His voice has gone rough, his hands settling on my waist as I work. “That you are.”

The tie is probably the worst knot ever attempted, but Axel doesn’t seem to care. His eyes are fixed on my face, intense enough to make my fingers fumble.

“There.” I smooth the silk down his chest, letting my touch linger. “Very fancy.”

His fingers flex on my waist. “We don’t have to go in. Could just ride back down the mountain, find somewhere more private...”

The temptation in his voice makes me shiver. “You owe me a steak.”

“I do.” He brushes his lips across mine, feather-light. “And I always pay my debts.”

“Even to troublemakers?”

“Especially to troublemakers.” He pulls back with visible reluctance. “Come on. Let’s get you fed before I forget why I’m trying out this gentleman schtick.”

I laugh, shrugging out of his cut. “Here. Can’t exactly walk in wearing this.”

But Axel’s hands stop me. “Keep it on another minute,” he says, his voice low and possessive. His eyes roam over me appreciatively. “I like seeing you in my leather, and I hate it when you take it off.”

A shiver runs through me at the heat in his gaze. “Careful, Road Captain. A girl could get used to belonging.”

“That’s the idea, sweetheart.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead before helping me out of the cut, carefully folding and storing it in one of his saddlebags.

The loss of his leather leaves me feeling oddly vulnerable, but then his hand settles on my lower back as he guides me toward the entrance, and that simple touch is enough to make my skin tingle.

“Ready?” he asks, pausing at the heavy wooden doors.

I smooth down my dress, suddenly aware of my ridiculous ‘ruby’ boots and lack of fancy jewelry. “As I’ll ever be.”

Inside, La Bella Vita is all soft lighting and crisp white tablecloths—worlds away from the comfortable worn wood and neon beer signs of Devil’s.

A chandelier drips crystal teardrops overhead, and somewhere a violin plays from hidden speakers instead of Merle Haggard blaring from a jukebox.

It’s exactly the kind of place that should make a girl in her only dress and diamante work boots feel out of place.

But with Axel’s hand on my back, I can’t bring myself to care about the sideways glances from other diners. Let them stare. Let them whisper about the biker and his date. Their opinion means nothing compared to the way Axel looks at me like I’m the only person in the room.

“Reservation for Thorn,” he tells the hostess, whose professional smile only falters slightly at the tattoos on his hands and neck, and at the sight of my boots. I click my heels together and they quickly look up.

“Of course, sir. Right this way.”

She leads us to a table tucked into a quiet corner with a spectacular view of the valley below. Axel pulls out my chair, and the simple gesture makes my heart do stupid things in my chest.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess says, passing us leather-bound menus before making a quick escape.