Page 73 of Heart of Stone

"This doesn't mean I forgive you."

His chuckle is low and filled with bitterness. "Don't worry, I have yet to forgive myself."

I want to ask what he means, but exhaustion pulls me under. I drift off, listening to him moving through the house, taking care of our kids, making things right.

Our kids.

The thought follows me into sleep, warm and terrifying and right.

20

ANDI

"We need to talk."

I look up from where I am folding laundry on the couch to find Hawk in the doorway. The kids are finally asleep after another long day of illness, but the house finally has that peaceful quiet that only comes after dark.

He's been here all week, sleeping on the couch, taking care of us while we fought off the stomach bug. Never complaining about the sick or the laundry or the stench. He is there.

Steady. Present. Patient.

It terrifies me how easily he's slipped back into our lives.

"Yeah," I agree, setting aside one of Adam's tiny shirts. "We do."

I've put off this talk for as long as possible, but we need to hash it out. He needs to understand where I am, and what I need if he really does want to make this work.

And I have a sneaky suspicion he does.

He sits beside me, closer than necessary but not quite touching. "I'm not going to promise I'll never let you down."

That isn't what I'd expected him to lead with.

"No?"

"No." He turns to face me fully. "Because sometimes I will. Sometimes the club will need me, and I'll have to go. Sometimes I'll make the wrong choice. I'm not perfect, Andi."

"I never asked you to be perfect."

"I know." His hand finds mine, warm and callused. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you and Abby needed me."

"I was terrified," I whisper. "She was blue. I thought she was dying. I needed you."

His head bends and he brushes his lips over my knuckles. "You'll never know how sorry I am for leaving you to deal with that. So fucking sorry." His fingers lace with mine. "I could promise that will never happen again, but I can't. Shit happens, and sometimes no matter how much we fight, we let the people in our lives down."

His gaze pierces mine, direct and full of emotion.

"But I can promise to try. I want to be the man these kids deserve. The man you deserve."

"Hawk—"

"Let me finish." His other hand comes up to cup my cheek. "I've been thinking about what family means. Not just blood or patches, but the kind you choose.”

My heart thunders against my ribs. "And?"

"I choose you. All of you." His thumb brushes my cheek. "I want to be here for middle-of-the-night fevers and first steps and Christmas mornings. I want to teach the girls to ride bikes and show Adam how to throw a punch. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to tiny humans jumping on our bed."

Tears burn my eyes. "You can't just?—"