Road to Peace (4 page)

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll see if Katie wants to come over.”

“Great plan,” he said.

“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, Con.”

“Backatya, sis.”

With his need to make sure his sister was okay, his plans were effectively shot to hell, so he followed Cricket home, then headed for Blush. He couldn’t help his mind from turning to the class-act he’d helped earlier as he rode. Fuck, she was gorgeous. He wondered if she’d made it home okay and if she was having any other issues with her car. Not that he could do anything about it unless he was willing to cross over to the stalking line and have Booker do a background check. He had her license plate, it would be easy.

He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t do it. She was far too classy to be anything but high-maintenance, and the last thing he was lookin’ for was more drama. He’d done that once before and suffered the cost. Never again.

Hatch walked into Blush and Booker led him downstairs to where Matt was handcuffed to a metal chair, his mouth duct taped closed.

Matt’s eyes darted between Pug and Train, two of the scariest individuals on the planet, but, then again, Matt hadn’t seen what Hatch could do.

“Hey, Hatch,” Train said, and stepped away from Matt.

Hatch gave him a chin lift and then turned his attention to Matt. “You remember who I am?”

Matt nodded.

“So you also remember how you and I had a nice little talk about how you needed to treat my sister right?”

Matt nodded again.

“And remember how I told you that if you didn’t, there’d be consequences?”

Matt scowled in response.

“So, we seem to have a little problem here, because my sister has some bruises and a bloody lip. Blush cameras got a real good look at the person who put those bruises there… and it’s you; in case you were gonna try to deny it, so I’m real disappointed that you didn’t listen to my warning.” Hatch cracked his knuckles, then crossed his arms. “Do you know why they call me Hatch?”

Matt shook his head.

“It’s short for the Hatchet Man. I take care of people who get in the way and I do it without blowback. You have just become one of those people who got in the way, Matthew, and I’m going to take care of you.”

* * *

Maisie

Saturday afternoon the kids were bouncing off the walls and I was ready for a break. The rain had stopped, so I decided it was time to take a little walk to the neighborhood park and see if I couldn’t run off some of their energy.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved watching Ryan and Ali’s kids, but three on one was a lot more work than just Poppy. She and I had a symbiotic thing going on, plus I could theoretically beat her since she was my own.

“Right, loves. Let’s go,” I called down the hall.

“Can I bring my skateboard, Auntie?” Merrick asked.

“Yes, as long as you wear your helmet.”

We leashed their golden doodle, Curly, donned rain jackets (just in case), and piled out of the house. I loved the rain, which, in a roundabout way, was how we ended up in Portland. I couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving London and going somewhere perpetually sunny. I craved the rain like most people craved the sunshine, so when Niall had been offered his dream job and discovered they had an office in Portland, we jumped at the chance. I smiled at the memory, the grip on my heart easing as I took a few deep breaths of the clean air. The smell of the ground after a downpour was always so peaceful… and peace was something I longed for more often than not.

Arriving at the park, I wasn’t surprised to find other parents with their children enjoying the sunshine, brief as it might be. A beautiful young woman who was quite pregnant sat on a bench and had her gaze fixed protectively on a little girl heading for the ladder to the playhouse. “Cambry, careful baby.”

“I
am
, Mama,” she sassed.

“Hi,” I said.

The woman sighed and smiled at me. “Hi.”

“Is this seat taken?” I asked.

“Nope. It’s all yours. I’m Kim.”

“Maisie,” I said, sitting on the damp seat and securing Curly to the bench.

“Are those all of yours?” Kim asked.

I chuckled. “No. I’m watching my bestie’s kids. Mine’s the blonde one. Poppy.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“I’d have to agree with you.” I smiled as I watched Poppy and Grace help Cambry up the ladder. “How old’s your little one?”

“Cambry’s three going on sixteen.”

I chuckled. “They do that, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do. She also has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.”

“Well, that’s also their job.” From the second Poppy was born, she’d bonded to Niall. They were inseparable.

“This is so true.” Kim ran her hands over her belly. “Do you and your husband have other kids?”

I shook my head. “He died before we could.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, love. It was a long time ago.”

“I haven’t seen you here before. I take it you don’t live in the area?”

“No. I’m watching the kids at my friends’ place. Easier for them.” I smiled. “Poppy and I actually live in the Pearl… not that you needed to know that.”

“It’s all good.” Kim smiled. “I love the Pearl. I have a condo there, although, I rent it out now. It’s not really conducive to equine pets.”

I laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it would be. I had horses as a girl. Gosh, I miss them. I’d love for Poppy to learn to ride.” I sighed. “One day.”

Kim rummaged in her purse and pulled out a card, handing it to me. “We have a training facility with some amazing instructors. Give us a call and we’ll find Poppy a lovely horse to ride.”

I focused back on my daughter.

“Daddy!”

Kim and I turned toward Cambry’s squeal, and I saw a tall man (very tall) walking toward the play structure, catching his little girl as she threw herself into his arms. He had dark, longish hair and wore jeans, motorcycle boots and a leather vest over a long-sleeved thermal.

“See?” Kim said. “She has daddy radar. She’ll know he’s around even when she can’t see him.”

“Hard not to see him,” I pointed out.

“I know. He is rather large.” She licked her lips as he approached, then added, “And delicious.”

“Hey, sugar.” He leaned down and kissed Kim.

“Hey, honey. Did you come to rescue me so I didn’t have to waddle home?”

He chuckled. “Pleadin’ the fifth on that one.”

“Smart man,” I said.

“Knight, this is Maisie,” Kim said.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

Cambry snuggled closer to her daddy.

I smiled. “You as well.”

“Hatch is back at the house,” he said. “We grabbed pizza.”

My ears perked up at the name. “Hatch is quite an unusual name.”

“Hatch is quite an unusual man,” Kim said.

“I met a Mr. Hatch the other day. Probably not the same one, but it’s interesting.”

“Is he tall, in his early forties, long hair usually man-bunned?” Kim asked.

“Yes, that sounds just like him,” I said, my heart suddenly racing.

“His name’s just Hatch.” Kim glanced up at Knight. “What’s his real name, honey?”

“Connor,” Knight said, kissing his daughter’s neck. Cambry squealed and leaned in for more.

“Right,” she said. “No one uses their real names. Well, the wives do when we’re pissed at them, but otherwise…”

“You’re funny, sugar,” Knight said.

“I know.” She turned to me again. “Where did you meet Hatch?”

“If it’s the same man, he got my car started for me.” I shared the story of breaking down and Hatch’s subsequent assistance.

“What a bit—I mean, what a mean thing to do,” Kim said, glancing at her daughter who was suddenly listening to every word her mother said. “Never leave another woman stranded.”

I nodded. “My friend said the same thing.”

“Hatch helps out with deliveries to a few shops around town,” Knight said. “So it sounds like the same guy.”

“Small world,” I mused, suddenly wanting to see him again.

Strange.

“We should go,” Kim said, pushing up from the bench. “But please give me a call. My cell phone’s on that card. We’d love to help Poppy out with lessons and perhaps you can get back into riding yourself.”

I patted my chest. “Gosh, I’d love that.”

“It was so nice to meet you, Maisie.” Kim smiled again. “Have a great rest of the weekend.”

I waved. “You too, love.”

I watched the happy family walk away and I thought how strange it was to have come so close to Hatch again. Serendipity was a strange thing.

* * *

Hatch

Hatch grinned at little Cambry as she rushed up to him. “Unca Hatt.”

“Hey, baby girl, how are ya?” he asked, and picked her up.

“Pizza!” she squealed, slapping his face gently.

“Yep, we got pizza.”

“Cambry, honey, let’s go wash up,” Kim said, leaning down to kiss Hatch on the cheek as she took Cambry from him. “Hey.”

“Hey, babe,” he said.

“Thanks for waiting on the pizza.”

He chuckled. “No problem.”

Kim took Cambry to the sink and they washed hands as Knight grabbed beers from the fridge, handing Hatch an open one.

“If I said the name Maisie, would you know who I was talking about?” Kim asked.

Hatch nearly choked on his swig of beer. “What?”

“I found out we might have a mutual acquaintance.”

“Blonde. British, fu—ah” —he stalled, mindful of Cambry—”I mean, real pretty.”

Kim giggled, lifting Cambry from the sink and handing her off to Knight. “Yes, that’s the one. You helped her with her car?”

“Yeah. How do you know her?” Hatch asked.

“Met her in the park today.”

“Yeah?”

“Sugar, leave Hatch alone,” Knight ordered.

Hatch chuckled. “She’s good, brother.”

Typically, he wanted nothing to do with the club old ladies trying to set him up, but at the present time, he wanted to know more about Maisie.

Kim filled him in on the circumstances that left Maisie stranded and Hatch felt his blood run cold. Pissed that she might have been in real trouble if he hadn’t been there to help, despite the fact Triple A had been called, and suddenly wanting to hit the bitch who didn’t help her. “No kidding?” Hatch said.

“Sugar,” Knight warned again.

“Anyway, her daughter might come take riding lessons.”

Hatch raised an eyebrow. “So she’s married.”

Kim shook her head. “Widow.”

“Shit, seriously?” Fuck. He didn’t expect that, but it explained the sadness.

 “Yep.” Kim took a bite of pizza.

“Fascinating.”

“Isn’t it though?” she sang.

Hatch chuckled when Knight dropped his head back and swore at the ceiling, then groaned out, “Babe.”

“Okay, okay. I’m done,” she promised. “Unless, of course, you want me to get more information.”

“Kimmie, stop,” Knight snapped.

“I’m good, babe, but thanks,” Hatch said.

Hatch could tell Kim was disappointed, and although he thought Maisie was gorgeous, he reminded himself (again) she wasn’t easy pussy and that’s all he was looking for. He finished his pizza, begged off staying for another beer, and headed home his mind swirling with Maisie thoughts.

Fuck. Now he knew he really needed to avoid the bitch at all costs.

Maisie

M
ONDAY MORNING ARRIVED far too early for my body; however, my mind had been awake most of the night. I forced myself to get up and face the day, deciding to shower before waking Poppy. I was surprised to find her up and already eating breakfast in the kitchen. She’d even made coffee. “Thank you, Poppet. For some reason, I’m extra tired this morning.”

She giggled. “It’s Merrick’s fault, huh?”

“Ah, no. It’s no one’s fault.” As if to mock me, a vision of Hatch filled my head. “Just have a lot going on this week.”

“Don’t forget Grace and I have that dance workshop tonight. You’re driving.”

“Bloody—” I cut my curse off. “Right, I actually did forget. Thank you for reminding me.”

Poppy and Grace had been involved in ballet for a while, but there was a new class being offered once a month for advanced dancers. Grace was amazing. Poppy was good, but she was missing something and I’d hoped this instructor could assist us in figuring out what it was. My perfectionist daughter tended to berate herself if she didn’t excel at everything she did and I needed to get a handle on it.

“Do you think she’ll hate me?” Poppy asked quietly.

“Who?”

“The teacher.”

Oh, the joys of hormonal girls. “My love, no one could possibly hate you. Mrs. Quinn may have some important things to say about your technique though, darling, and it’s important you don’t take those personally. Dancing is not who you are, it’s what you do. I love your passion and your need to do your very best, but even if you didn’t dance, you’d still be the most amazing young woman I know.” I cupped her chin. “I’m proud of you every minute of every day. Don’t ever forget that.”

She smiled. “Even when I’m angry at you?”

“Well, no, I’m much less proud of you then, and admittedly, I love you conditionally, but only when you’re being a strop…when you’re not being a strop, I love you unconditionally.”