Page 27 of Heat (The Royal HArlots MC, Quebec City-Canada #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

A soft giggle broke the silence.

Then another—high-pitched and breathless, followed by the quick hush of a mother’s whispered warning.

“Shhh… you’ll wake them.”

Diamond blinked awake slowly, momentarily unsure of where she was. The cab was still dim, the early morning light just starting to creep through the windshield in a pale gray wash. The air inside was warm, a stark contrast to the chill pressed against the glass.

She hadn’t moved much in the night. Her arm was still draped across Sayer’s chest, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. His breathing was slow and steady, still deep in sleep.

More muffled giggles came from just beyond the sleeper curtain.

Tiny feet padded softly in the space between the seats. A quiet thump was followed by a gasp and a whispered, “Mama, she’s still sleeping!”

“I said quiet,” Carla whispered back, voice gently scolding but threaded with affection.

Diamond smiled into the fabric of Sayer’s shirt. They were safe. They were okay. And for just this moment, it felt like they were all part of something almost… normal.

She lifted her head slightly, voice rough with sleep. “You girls causing trouble out there?”

A tiny gasp. Then silence.

Sayer stirred beside her, groaning softly. “Tell them to give us five more hours,” he mumbled.

Diamond chuckled under her breath and sat up, brushing hair from her face. The mattress hissed faintly as it shifted under her weight.

Carla pulled back the curtain just enough to peek inside, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry. They were just too excited to be in a real truck.”

Diamond smirked. “Tell them if they want breakfast, they gotta let the drivers wake up first.”

Carla nodded with a quiet laugh and turned back to the girls, herding them toward the front seats with gentle words.

Diamond looked over at Sayer, who was rubbing a hand over his face. “Morning, trucker.”

“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had coffee.”

She snorted. “You sound like Nova.”

He cracked one eye open and smirked. “She’s rubbing off on me.”

Diamond reached over and smacked his arm lightly before reaching for her boots. “Come on. Let’s get them fed and on the road. We’ve got one more day to get this right.”

Sayer groaned again but sat up anyway, stretching until his back popped.

Outside the cab, the sky was starting to shift to blue. A new day. A new chance to get them all one step closer to safety.

After a quick cleanup in the truck stop’s facilities and a change into fresh clothes, Diamond and Sayer were ready to take the young family out for breakfast. Diamond felt human again, or close enough to fake it—her face washed, her hair tied back, the weight of the last day just a little easier to carry now that morning had broken clean.

Climbing down from the cab, she pulled on her gloves and walked around to the coupling.

The air was brisk, her breath fogging as she worked through the motions.

With a practiced hand, she unhitched the trailer from the cab.

The familiar hiss of released air brakes and the heavy thunk of metal separating echoed in the quiet lot.

They’d be back for it soon enough. But it was easier to park the cab alone than try to maneuver the whole rig through tight lots or side streets. It also made them less of a target.

Sayer appeared behind her, watching as she secured everything. “You always this efficient before coffee?”

Diamond shot him a look over her shoulder. “I’d be more efficient with coffee.”

He grinned and nodded toward the truck. “Family’s ready.”

She turned to see Carla standing just outside the cab, one daughter on her hip, the other gripping her hand and bouncing on her toes.

Both girls had changed into little fleece hoodies, the kind with animal ears on the hoods, their cheeks still rosy from sleep.

They looked like any other kids on a road trip.

Normal. Or at least pretending to be.

Diamond climbed back into the cab and got them moving. With the trailer left behind in the lot, the truck rode lighter, smoother.

“Where to?” Sayer asked, glancing at the GPS.

“Local diner not far from here. Quiet. Cheap. Locals mostly.”

Sayer nodded, relaxing into the passenger seat. “You sure know how to treat a guy.”

She smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the city slowly woke up around them, Diamond drove them toward the promise of warm food and hot coffee, keeping one eye on the mirrors and the other on the road ahead.

The diner was small and worn in the way only well-loved places ever were.

A bell above the door jingled as they stepped inside, the smell of bacon, coffee, and syrup wrapping around them like a blanket.

Vinyl booths lined the windows, sun streaming through streaky glass, and a couple of older locals sat at the counter sipping coffee, chatting with the waitress behind it like they did every morning.

Diamond led the group toward a booth in the corner where they could sit with their backs to the wall, eyes on the door.

The girls clung to Carla at first, wide-eyed and quiet.

They slid into the booth slowly, one on each side of their mother, pressing against her as if unsure how close was too far from safety.

Diamond sat across from them, Sayer beside her, his broad frame making the booth creak slightly as he settled in.

A waitress in a pale blue apron approached with a practiced smile and a stack of menus. “Morning, folks. Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Diamond said without hesitation.

“Two,” Sayer added, then glanced at Carla. “You want something hot?”

Carla nodded, adjusting her youngest on her lap. “Yes, thank you.”

The waitress handed out menus and promised to be back with drinks. The moment she left, the table fell quiet.

The little girls stared down at the colorful kids’ menu with cautious eyes. One of them looked up at Carla, then back at Sayer, uncertain. Her fingers curled around the edge of the laminated page like she was afraid to crease it.

“You can get whatever you want,” Diamond said gently, watching the way the girls kept stealing glances at Sayer like they were waiting for him to say no.

Carla’s voice was soft but steady, “Go on, girls. It’s okay.”

One of them pointed to the pancakes with a shy voice, “Can I have the one with the chocolate chips?”

Sayer leaned his elbow on the table, smiling easily. “You should get the chocolate chip ones. They’re the best.”

The girl blinked, surprised by the lack of disapproval. Her sister looked at him too, unsure, still holding her breath.

“I used to order those all the time,” he added, tapping the menu lightly. “And I turned out alright.”

Diamond raised an eyebrow. The look alone spoke volumes. “ Debatable. ”

The older girl giggled, quietly, like it slipped out without permission—and the younger one leaned against her mom, finally relaxing.

Carla met Diamond’s eyes across the table and gave a barely-there nod. Gratitude. Relief. Maybe even hope.

When the waitress returned with coffee and hot chocolate, she took their order without comment. The girls spoke a little louder this time, more certain, their voices no longer trapped behind fear.

Diamond wrapped her hands around the warm coffee cup, letting the heat sink into her bones. The diner buzzed softly with quiet conversation, clinking dishes, and the hiss of a fryer in the back. For a while, they were just another group of travelers getting breakfast on the road.

Almost normal.

But beneath the surface, Diamond stayed alert, eyes tracking everyone who came in, watching the mirror behind the counter, always aware of how fragile this peace really was.

Still, for now, the girls were smiling. That was enough.

They lingered longer than they probably should have, drawn in by the comfort of full bellies and hot coffee. Diamond nursed her third cup, hands wrapped around the mug, letting the steam rise and chase away the tension that still clung to the edges of her shoulders.

Beside her, Sayer had leaned back in the booth, one arm stretched along the top of the seat, eyes on the girls more than the area ahead.

The youngest was drawing on the back of a placemat with a crayon the waitress had given her, while the older one was carefully folding her napkin into tight little triangles like it was origami. They weren’t talking much, but they weren’t afraid anymore either. That was something.

Carla had relaxed too, though it was in the way of someone who knew this quiet wouldn’t last forever. Her smile came easier now, especially when her daughters laughed or whispered to one another like kids should.

When the waitress came back to refill their mugs, Sayer glanced up at her. “You got any of that brownie cake still? The one by the register?”

She grinned. “Sure do. Want a slice?”

“Two, to-go. One for each of them.” He nodded toward the girls without making a big deal of it.

The waitress beamed. “I’ll box ‘em up.”

Diamond watched him from the rim of her mug, her brow lifting just slightly.

“What? If I’m gonna win them over, it’s gonna be with sugar.” He gave her a slow, smug grin. “Same strategy I used with you.”

Diamond snorted, shaking her head. “I don’t remember any sugar involved.”

He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice, “That’s ‘cause you’re the tougher sell.”

The waitress returned with a small white bag, grease spots already forming on the bottom. The girls’ eyes lit up when she handed it over, and they reached for it like it held treasure.

“It’s for later,” Carla reminded gently, her tone soft but firm.

Both girls nodded, clutching the bag with the quiet reverence kids always have for dessert.

Diamond stood first, sliding out of the booth and stretching. “Alright,” she said, voice dipping back into business. “We’ve got miles to cover.”

Sayer dropped a few bills on the table, enough for the meal and a good tip, then stood and offered Carla a hand as she helped the girls down from the seat.

The bell over the door jingled again as they stepped back into the cool morning air. The sun had burned off the last of the chill, and the rig sat waiting in its quiet corner of the lot, the trailer still unhitched.

Diamond looked over at Sayer as they walked.

“Brownie cake, huh?”

“Could’ve been pie.”

She bumped her shoulder lightly into his. “Could’ve been nothing. So thanks.”

He just nodded, quiet, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

It wasn’t much, but it mattered.