Page 12 of Heart of Stone (Stoneheart MC #1)

HAWK

“ H i.”

The word drags me from unconsciousness. My hand is already moving toward the gun under my pillow before my brain registers the voice belongs to the tiny human standing beside my bed.

“Hi, hi!” another small voice pipes up.

I shift, finding another toddler on the opposite side of my bed.

Fuck.

I blink at the two tiny faces peering at me over the edge of the mattress. Abby and Amy—though damned if I can tell which is which—stand in matching pink pajamas, their dark curls wild from sleep.

“Why you here?” I growl, though I keep my voice low. No need to wake the whole house.

One of them announces something in garbled toddler-speak, patting my mattress with a chubby hand.

The other solemnly nods, seemingly in agreement.

I glance between them, confused when they stare at me expectantly.

“Um, okay?”

Squealing, they climb onto my bed, taking my unknowing invitation as gospel.

I glance at my phone. 6:15 AM. Jesus Christ.

“Your aunt know where you are?”

They both shake their heads, curls bouncing. The one not burrowing under my blankets lifts her arms in the universal “up” gesture.

I scrub a hand over my face. What the hell has my life become?

The blanket burrower manages to crawl onto the bed, examining my tattoos with sticky fingers.

“Pitty.”

Her sister emerges from under the blanket, crawling closer to inspect the skull inked on my skin.

“Mmhmm,” the bed burrower agrees.

Great. Not even seven AM, and I’ve got art critics.

“Hungy,” the first one announces, patting my chest.

The other nods, vigorous and solemn. “Hungy, hungy!”

Christ. How does Andi do this every morning? Speaking of which…

“We should wake Andi,” I suggest, hoping to redirect this toddler invasion.

Their little faces drop like I’ve kicked a puppy.

“Pahcake?” one asks, voice hopeful, eyes wide.

Her sister catches on fast. “Peeze?”

I’m the sergeant-at-arms of an MC. I’ve been in firefights, bar brawls, and more than one knife fight. I’ve broken bones, taken hits, and given worse.

But these two tiny humans, with their big eyes and hopeful faces?

They’re going to be the death of me.

“Fine,” I grumble. “But we’re quiet, yeah? Let your aunt sleep?”

They nod solemnly… and immediately start giggling.

Cute—for a pair of runts.

Scooping them both up, I carry them through the house, trying to remember if the kitchen even has pancake mix.

“Weeee!” one squeals.

“Shh,” her sister scolds.

At least one of them listens.

The kitchen is still dark, early morning light barely filtering through the windows. I deposit them both on the counter, keeping one hand on their backs so they don’t topple off.

“Stay,” I order.

They giggle again. Great. My intimidation tactics need work.

I open cupboards one-handed, searching for anything remotely breakfast-related. Beer, protein powder, more beer, some jerky… fuck. When’s the last time anyone actually cooked?

"Whatcha doing?"

I turn to find Andi in the doorway, Adam on her hip. Her hair’s a mess, her clothes are wrinkled from sleep, and there’s a pillow crease on her cheek.

She looks sexy as fuck, and my dick takes fucking notice.

“Pahcakes!” the twins yell.

“Is that right?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “And did we ask Hawk if he wanted to make pancakes?”

Two tiny faces swivel to me, suddenly uncertain.

“Peeze?” they ask in unison.

Damn kids are going to own my ass at this rate.

“Don’t know if I have any mix,” I admit.

“You do,” she says, adjusting Adam on her hip. “I grabbed some yesterday when the prospects moved stuff from our place. Bottom cabinet by the fridge.”

Sure enough, I spot grocery bags I hadn’t noticed, filled with actual food.

“I figured they’d want pancakes since it’s what they always demand at my place.” She crosses to the coffee maker. “Though I didn’t expect them to wake you up quite so early.”

“Seeping,” one twin says, pointing at her solemnly.

“So you decided to wake up Hawk instead?” She starts the coffee one-handed, like it’s second nature.

They nod, all innocence.

“Rascals,” she says, shaking her head before turning to me. “Sorry. They’re usually good about staying in their room until?—”

“It’s fine.” I pull out the pancake mix, frowning at the instructions. “Why does this have fifteen steps? How hard can pancakes be?”

Her laugh does something to me—something I don’t want to think about.

“Oh honey,” she says, still grinning. “Let me deal with Adam, and I’ll help before you burn down the kitchen.”

“I can handle it.”

“Uh-huh.” She smirks. “Just keep them from falling off the counter until I’m back.”

I glance at the twins, who are now reaching for the sink.

“Stay,” I growl again.

They giggle.

Definitely need to work on my intimidation tactics.

“Choc-it?” one of them asks hopefully.

“No chocolate,” I say firmly.

Both their little faces drop.

“Choc-it,” the other says sadly.

“I don’t have any?—”

“Second shelf, behind the coffee mugs,” Andi calls from the hallway. “I bought chocolate chips too.”

The twins perk up immediately.

“Traitor,” I mutter, but I’m already grabbing the chocolate chips.

“Yay!” they squeal, bouncing on the counter.

“Hey, what did I say about staying still?”

They freeze mid-bounce, grins wide and completely unrepentant.

The rumble of bikes pulling up draws my attention out the window. Lee and a few prospects are here early for the morning meeting. They’ll be reporting in after last night’s reconnaissance.

Great. Just what I need—witnesses to my domestication.

“Brrroom, brrroom!” one of the twins exclaims, catching sight of the bikes.

“No,” I say quickly. “We’re staying here and making pan?—”

“Steel!” they shriek, spotting the prospect walking past the window.

Steel freezes like a deer in headlights. The look on his face would be funny if I wasn’t wearing the same damn expression.

“Well,” Andi says, returning sans baby, “looks like we’re having company for breakfast.”

The twins beam.

I’m so fucked.

“Yo, brother,” Lee calls, walking in through the side door. “We’re early but—” He stops short, taking in the scene: me, two toddlers, and a bowl of pancake mix. “Well, shit.”

“Morning,” I growl.

“More pahcakes!” one of the twins demands.

“Peeze,” the other adds, all charm.

Lee’s grin spreads slow and wide. “Are you… making pancakes?”

“Shut it.”

“Choc-it!” one twin announces proudly, like that explains everything.

Andi moves around me to grab a bowl, her arm brushing mine. “Lee, right? Coffee’s nearly ready if you want some.”

"Babe, I wouldn’t miss this show for anything." Lee drops into a kitchen chair. "Steel! Get in here! You gotta see this."

The prospect hesitates in the doorway until the twins spot him.

"Up!" they demand in unison.

Steel looks at me like I might shoot him for touching the kids.

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.

I watch her for another beat before I turn, heading out of the kitchen.

Time to focus. We’ve got a development company to deal with. I don’t have time to think about how the woman in my kitchen tastes.

Chapel’s already full when I walk in. Stone stands at the head of the table, maps spread out in front of him. The room quiets as I take my seat.

"Nice of you to join us," Stone says dryly. "Heard you were playing house."

There’s snickering around the table. I shoot Lee a look promising retribution.

"Got news," I say, ignoring the jabs. "Erica Olsen came by last night after everyone cleared out."

That sobered them up.

"And?" Stone leaned forward.

"Summit's pushing hard. Sent some guys around yesterday afternoon. Said there'd been complaints about her yard. Code violations." I pulled out the notice she'd shown me. "Giving her forty-eight hours to clean it up or they're fining her ten grand."

"Bullshit," Duck growled. "Her yard's perfect. She's got fucking prize-winning roses."

"Exactly." I spread out the paperwork. "Notice came from the city, but look at the letterhead."

Mack adjusted his glasses, studying it. "This isn't the usual department."

"Because it's not real," Lee said. "They're manufacturing violations now?"

"Getting bolder," Stone muttered. "What else?"

I grit my teeth. "Erica mentioned that three more houses in her street got notices this past week. All elderly residents. All prime locations for Summit's development plans."

"They're closing in," Axel said. "Creating a corridor just like you said."

Stone studies the map, his expression thunderous. “Lee?”

Lee leans forward. “Prospects and I made it into the construction office without any issues.” He pulls a sheet of paper from his pocket and tosses it on the table. “There’s your list. Fuckers aren’t even hiding it.”

The printout has a list of houses across town they’re targeting.

"Fuck.” Stone shakes his head. “Alright, tomorrow’s Monday.

We start. Duck, offer Martha Wilson whatever she wants plus the opportunity to stay in her home for the rest of her life.

Same for the others." Stone looks around the table, his gaze landing on Axel.

"Axel, volunteer the prospects. Put the word out. Anyone in the area who gets a fucking fine or notice can call on us to help them with repairs, clearing, whatever they need.”

Axel nods solemnly.

Stone meets each of our eyes individually. “Anyone got a problem putting their cut toward this?"

Head shakes all around.

"Good." He turns to Lee. "Your crew ready?"

Lee's grin is all teeth. "Just say when."

"Tonight. I want those construction vehicles disabled before they can break ground."

"What about the utility company?" Tank asks.

"Working on it," Cash says. "My cousin's looking into it."

“Perfect.” Stone glances around again. “Alright. Let’s get to work.”