Page 19 of Heart of Stone (Stoneheart MC #1)

HAWK

S he’s been avoiding me all week.

Not obviously—Andi’s too smart for that. But suddenly, she’s always busy when I’m home. Always surrounded by kids, prospects, or Ginger when our paths cross.

It’s driving me fucking crazy.

“You’re brooding again,” Axel says, handing me a beer as we watch the party start to fill the backyard. “It’s not attractive.”

“Fuck off.”

He grins, leaning against the deck railing beside me. “She’ll come around.”

“Who said anything about?—”

“The way you’ve been watching the front door for the last hour?” He takes a pull from his beer. “Dead giveaway, brother.”

I don’t bother denying it. The club started arriving early, bikes filling the street as the sun sets. Music thumps from speakers someone set up in the garage, and the smell of grilling meat fills the air. A normal Saturday night gathering.

Except nothing feels normal anymore.

“Where are the kids?” Axel asks.

“Duck and Maggie’s.” I try not to think about how empty the house feels without them. Without her. “Sleepover with their grandkids.”

“Convenient.”

I shoot him a look that would have prospects pissing themselves. Axel just grins wider.

Movement by the gate catches my attention. Ginger’s here, and with her...

“Damn,” Axel mutters.

Andi’s in dark jeans that hug curves I’ve been dreaming about all week, and a top that shows more skin than I’ve seen since that first kiss. Her hair is down, falling in waves past her shoulders, and Ginger’s clearly gotten to her with makeup.

She looks fucking beautiful. And completely untouchable.

“Well,” Axel pushes off the railing, “this should be interesting.”

I watch as Ginger leads Andi through the crowd, collecting women as they go. Tank’s old lady presses a beer into Andi’s hand, and even from here, I see her hesitate before taking it.

“Good,” Axel says. “Girl needs to relax.”

“Since when do you care?”

He shrugs. “Since she started making you less of an asshole.”

I don’t have a response to that.

The night wears on, the party getting louder as more people arrive. I keep my distance, watching as Andi slowly relaxes into the atmosphere. She keeps nursing her original beer, picking at the label.

The women claim a corner of the garage as their dance floor, and even from my spot on the deck, I see Andi starting to move with the music.

“You gonna stand there all night?” Stone appears beside me, his timing as impeccable as always.

“Maybe.”

He snorts. “Kids are fine, by the way.”

“How do you know that?”

“Called Duck to check in on club shit. All I heard was fucking screaming.”

That gets a laugh out of me. “He knew what he was signing up for.”

“Did you?”

I turn to find my President watching me with knowing eyes.

“She’d make a good old lady,” he says quietly. “She’s solid. Keeps her head. You want her. We’ll support you.”

The music changes, something slower and darker threading through the night. Through the crowd, I see Andi dancing with Ginger, her movements loose and free in a way I’ve never seen before.

“Yeah,” I admit. “She is.”

Stone claps me on the shoulder. “Then do something about it.”

“She’s avoiding me.”

"Can you blame her? Girl's whole life has blown up, and here you come riding in like a knight in tarnished armor."

I snort, tearing my gaze from Andi. “You’re a prick, you know that, right?”

Stone’s smile is knowing. “Stop being chickenshit.”

Shit.

“Go get your girl,” he says softly. “Life’s too fucking short. Don’t regret decisions you shouldn’t have made.”

There’s a weight to his words, a grief behind them.

I watch as Andi throws her head back, laughing at something Ginger says. The sight hits me like a punch to the gut.

As if sensing my gaze, Andi’s eyes meet mine across the crowd. For a moment, neither of us looks away. Then Ginger grabs her hand, spinning her into another dance, and the connection breaks.

But something shifts.

I watch as she makes her way to the makeshift bar, finally ditching her warm beer for a fresh one. The party has hit that sweet spot where inhibitions start to fall away—couples grinding on the dance floor, prospects trying to impress sweet butts, old-timers telling war stories by the grill.

And Andi, moving through it all like she belongs here. Like she’s always belonged here.

The song changes again, something with a heavy bass that vibrates through the ground. Ginger squeals, grabbing Andi’s hand.

“This is my song!”

I can’t hear Andi’s response over the music, but her laugh carries.

Tank appears beside me, watching his old lady dance. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” But I’m not looking at Ginger.

Andi moves like she works—with precision, with confidence, with a grace that draws the eye. Her hips sway to the beat, and I find myself wondering how they’d feel under my hands.

She lifts her arms up, moving to the music with her eyes closed. Her shirt rides up, showing a strip of skin above her jeans. My mouth goes dry as I stare at all her curvy, generous, soft skin.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, pushing off the railing.

Stone’s laugh follows me as I carve my way through the crowd. People move aside, some with knowing grins, others too drunk to notice. The music gets louder as I approach the women’s corner, the bass thumping in time with my pulse.

Ginger sees me coming, her grin wicked as she spins Andi around, positioning her perfectly.

One step.

Two.

She backs right into me.

Her body goes rigid for a moment before she realizes who it is. Then something else entirely takes over.

“Hawk,” she breathes, not quite turning around.

My hands find her hips, holding her in place. “Dance with me.”

It’s not a request. We both know it.

She stays facing forward, but her body melts back into mine as the music wraps around us. My hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements to match mine.

Around us, the party fades to background noise. All I can focus on is the way she moves against me, the scent of her hair, the heat of her skin under my palms.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say, low enough that only she can hear.

“Yes.” No denial, no excuses. Just honesty.

“Why?”

She turns in my arms, finally meeting my eyes. The motion brings us chest to chest, and my grip shifts to her lower back.

“You scare me,” she admits.

“How?”

Her hands come up to rest on my chest. “The way you look at me. The way you are with the kids.” She swallows hard. “The way you make me want things I shouldn’t.”

That’s bullshit. She shouldn’t want for anything.

“What do you want?”

“This.” She presses closer, her body moving with mine as the music shifts to something slower, darker. “You make me believe we might be possible.”

“We are.” I slide one hand up her back, feeling her shiver.

“Hawk—”

“Andi, dance with me,” I cut her off. “No talking, no doubts, no overthinking. Tonight, just let me hold you.”

Something in her eyes softens. Her fingers curl into my shirt as she nods.

So we dance.

Her body moves against mine like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Every movement, every touch, builds something between us that feels inevitable. Unstoppable.

When her head tips forward to rest on my chest, I know I’m lost.

“I’m tired of denying this,” she whispers against my shirt.

My arms tighten around her. “Then don’t.”

She lifts her head, meeting my eyes. The vulnerability there hits me like a physical blow.

“Take me inside,” she says softly.

Two hours of watching her dance, days of her avoiding me, over a week of wanting her—it all crashes together in that moment.

“You sure?”

Her smile is everything I’ve been waiting for.

“Take me to bed, Hawk.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice.