Page 5 of Hard as Stone (Stoneheart MC #2)

He chuckles, a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “We’ll see about that.”

Axel lines up his shot, muscles flexing. I try not to stare, but sweet baby Jesus, the sight of him bending over the table should be illegal.

The shot is smooth and precise, sinking two stripes. Not bad. He straightens up with a smirk, clearly pleased with himself.

“Lucky break.” I glance at my nails, trying to appear nonchalant.

Axel circles the table, eyeing his next shot. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it, sweetheart.”

He sinks another ball effortlessly. I bite my lip, realizing I may have underestimated his skills. But there’s no way I’m letting him see that.

“Impressive,” I drawl. “For an amateur.”

“Amateur, huh?” Axel’s eyes lock on mine as he lines up his next shot without even looking. The ball drops into the pocket with a satisfying thunk. Show-off. “Sweetheart, I’ve been playing pool since before you were born.” He sinks another to prove his point.

“Oh, really?” I circle the table. “And how old do you think I am, exactly?”

Axel’s eyes rake over me, slow and deliberate. “Old enough to know better, young enough not to care.”

I force myself to maintain my bravado, even as my heart races. “Careful there, Toto. Your eyes might get stuck if you keep them rolling them around like that.”

He chuckles. He’s so sexy when he chuckles. “Just admiring the view. It’s not often I get to see such a... spirited opponent.”

“Spirited, huh? Is that what everyone at the old folks’ home calls it?”

“Careful.” He keeps saying that, but his words never match his expression. “You always hustle pool when you’re not playing traffic cop?”

“Only on days ending in ‘y’.” I track his movement as he prowls around the table, unable to look away. “Why? Scared what’ll happen when I get a shot?”

His eyes catch mine as he sinks another stripe. “Of you? Sweetheart, I’ve faced scarier things than a smart-mouthed girl with a pool cue.”

“And yet out of the two of us, I’m the one who’s had you turning tail.” I hold up my fingers and feign counting. “Actually, it’s happened so often that I’ve lost count. I do like the view when you ride away, though.”

He misses his next shot, probably because he’s too busy glaring at me. I hide my smile as I circle the table, letting my hip brush his as I pass.

“My turn.” I immediately line up and sink a shot that sends three balls into the pocket at once. Then I straighten up and give Axel a considering look. “You know, for someone who acts all put out by me being in your way, you sure spend a lot of time finding excuses to see me.”

“That so?” Axel raises an eyebrow.

“Mhmm. I’ve been in town a month now, and of all the folks who cross my path, I think it’s you who I see the most. Though I have to wonder why you’re bothering with little old me when your clubhouse seems to have an endless supply of willing women.

” I line up my next shot. “I mean, those parties you guys throw? Let’s just say the view from where I’m standing isn’t exactly PG-13. ”

Axel’s eyes darken as he moves closer. “Now who’s stalking who?”

“Not stalking,” I say with deliberate casualness, though my cheeks do feel a little warm. “Just happened to notice while driving past. Hard to miss all those bikes and barely dressed women hanging around.”

“Jealous?” His voice drops lower as he invades my space.

I scoff, but my hands tighten on the pool cue. “Please. I prefer my dignity intact and my clothes on. Thank you very much.”

“That’s a shame,” Axel murmurs near my ear, moving away just as my brothers reappear with fresh beers. But I barely notice them. My whole world has narrowed to this game, this man, this dangerous attraction I should absolutely not be feeling.

I sink my last solid, leaving just the eight ball. “Corner pocket,” I call, already tasting victory.

But Axel moves into my space, his breath hot against my ear. “You sure you can make that shot, sweetheart?”

His proximity throws me off balance. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the intoxicating mix of leather and hard work mixed with the scent of soap, and something uniquely him.

“Positive,” I say, but my voice comes out breathier than I intend.

He chuckles, low and deep. “Because from where I’m standing, looks like you might scratch if you’re not careful.”

“I think I know what I’m doing.”

I line up my cue, hyper-aware of Axel’s presence behind me. As I draw back to take the shot, I feel his hand brush lightly against my lower back. The touch is so unexpected, so electric, that I jerk slightly as I hit the cue ball.

The white ball rockets across the table, missing the eight ball entirely and bouncing off the far rail. My jaw drops as I watch it ricochet back, heading straight for the corner pocket. It drops in with a decisive thunk, and I can only stare in disbelief.

“Oops,” Axel murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “Looks like you scratched after all.”

I whirl around to face him, my cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “You cheated!”

He holds up his hands, the picture of innocence. “I didn’t touch your cue. Not my fault if you got... distracted.”

“You...” I sputter, jabbing a finger into his chest. “That was a dirty trick.”

“Says the girl who had me detouring my detour this morning.” His hand captures mine where it’s pressed against him, and I swear I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt. “Turnabout’s fair play, sweetheart.”

I open my mouth to fire back a retort, but the words die on my tongue as I realize just how close we’re standing. His hand is still wrapped around mine, my hand still pressed against his chest.

“Poppy,” Hugo’s voice cuts through the tension. “We really should go.”

I blink, suddenly remembering we’re not alone. Felix appears at my elbow, physically inserting himself between us. “For fuck’s sake, Poppy. We’re leaving. Now.”

“But he’s a cheat!” I bluster, trying to step around Felix. He blocks my path. Behind Axel, his club brothers are openly laughing now, clearly enjoying the show. The sound makes my cheeks burn hotter. “Yeah, laugh it the fuck up. But what would I expect from a bunch of bikers who can’t even spell?”

Axel’s eyes narrow with incredulity. “What are you talking about?”

I look to the patch on his leather cut and let out a laugh when I realize he doesn’t know. “You’re all in a motorcycle club, and you can’t even spell ‘motorcycle’ properly.”

He looks down, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Poppy, leave it,” Felix warns, trying to steer me away, but I’m too busy wiping tears of mirth from my eyes.

“Your patch,” I let out a cackle over their obvious confusion. “It’s missing a ‘C’.”

“Huh?” The bikers start checking their cuts, twisting around like dogs chasing their tails as they try to read their own backs. Lee yanks his off entirely, holding it up while Cash cranes his neck to see his reflection in the bar mirror.

“No fucking way,” Lee mutters, then louder, “Holy shit!”

“Motorcyle Club,” Cash reads slowly, his face going through several expressions before landing on disbelief. “Son of a bitch.”

“I’m gonna throttle him,” Axel growls, realization dawning. “Duck and his ‘artistic vision’ that we weren’t allowed to fucking question.”

“How did we not notice this?” Lee adds. “I mean, it’s right there!”

The last thing I hear as my brothers drag me toward the door is a chorus of increasingly creative cursing and Cash’s voice rising above it all.

“We’ve been riding around like this for THREE MONTHS?”

My laughter carries me all the way to the truck. Serves them right for cheating at pool.