Road to Peace Read online

  I wrinkled my nose. Gross.

  “Before you say you hate pizza,” Poppy rushed to say, “there’s a place around the corner that has other stuff as well.”

  “Vincenzo’s,” Hatch said. “It’s good.”

  “You should come with us,” Poppy said.

  “Poppy,” I admonished. “Mr. Hatch is busy, honey.”

  “Just Hatch,” he said.

  “Right. Well, we should go. It was good to see you again.”

  “This won’t take long,” Hatch said. “I could join you after.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

  “Sure.”

  “I have to get Poppy’s friend Grace home by nine.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

  I smiled. “Okay, then. We’ll save you a seat.”

  He nodded and walked away. I slid my arm around Poppy’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Let’s go, hmm?”

  We grabbed Grace and headed to the restaurant around corner, and I tried to keep myself from losing the few crackers I’d eaten earlier.

  * * *

  Hatch

  There was something seriously wrong with him. When he saw Maisie walk out of the dance studio he lost his fucking mind. Damn she was stunning. Prettier than he remembered and when she saw him, his dick took notice. He couldn’t figure out what it was about this bitch that made him want more of her.

  He knew she remembered him, but she couldn’t seem to make eye contact and it was fuckin’ cute how nervous she was. He could read every emotion on her face and he liked that a little too much.

  After helping tear down Ace’s old lady’s rented space, he headed to the restaurant later than he wanted, but glad to see Maisie was still there. They had less time, though. Maybe that was a good thing.

  She met his eyes as he approached and he forced himself not to smile at the sight of her cheeks pinkening. But when she licked her lips, he imagined her mouth wrapped around his cock and he had to take a second to think about something else.

  “Hey,” he said, stopping at the table.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  “You came!” Poppy exclaimed with a smile.

  “I did.”

  Maisie scooted further to the wall and Hatch took it as an invitation to sit beside her.

  “This is Grace,” Poppy said. “She’s my best friend.”

  Hatch gave her a quick nod. “Hey.”

  Grace smiled. “Hi.”

  “Help yourself,” Maisie said finding her voice. “We ordered a bit too much.”

  “Can we go play a game, please?” Poppy asked.

  “Sure, love. We have to be out of here in twenty minutes, though.” Maisie handed her daughter some money and the girls flitted off to the arcade area.

  “You live around here?” Hatch asked as he grabbed a slice of pepperoni and took a bite.

  She shook her head. “Pearl. You?”

  “Beaverton.”

  “Are you a mechanic?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “CEO.”

  “No shit?”

  She blushed again. “My husband and I started the company fifteen years ago. So, I suppose CEO’s really a fancy title for buck stopper.”

  “Makes sense.” He took another bite.

  “He’s dead now,” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  She leaned her elbow on the table and settled her cheek in her palm. “What about you?”

  “Divorced.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” she mimicked.

  “Don’t be. Shoulda never married her,” he said. “Your car runnin’ okay?”

  “Like a champ,” she said. “I didn’t even know there were fuses that would affect the starter. It would have been the last thing I checked.”

  “Your hair girl leave you stranded?”

  Maisie rolled her eyes. “Technically, yes, she did.”

  “You wanna fill me in?”

  “Not really.” She sighed. “It’s no big deal. She was busy and you were there to help, so it’s all good.”

  “What happened, Maisie?”

  After a few seconds of hesitation, she filled him in, and he scowled. “Bitch.”

  “Yes, it wasn’t very nice,” Maisie agreed.

  He dropped it and focused on her again. “Feel free to call me if you have any other problems with your car again. I’ll be happy to have a look at it.”

  “That’s kind of you, Hatch, but I don’t have your number.”

  He chuckled as he wiped his hands and then held one out. “Give me your phone.”

  She handed it to him and he loaded his contact information in it, sending himself a text so he’d have hers.

  “Now you have my number.”

  She glanced at the screen. “And you have mine it would seem.”

  He grinned. “Weird.”

  Maisie chuckled. “Isn’t it, though?”

  Her phone buzzed in her hand and she sighed, firing off a text to someone. “I need to get Gracie home.”

  “I’ll get you a couple boxes,” Hatch offered.

  “No, it’s okay.” She shook her head. “We won’t eat it, honestly. It’ll just end up in the rubbish. Will you take it?”

  “I’ll take it if you’re gonna chuck it.”

  “I really will chuck it. Pizza’s not my thing and I don’t want Poppy eating it on a regular basis.”

  He slid out of the booth and Maisie followed. She waved to Poppy whose face fell, but tugged on Grace’s arm and they finished up their game.

  “My treat next time,” Hatch said.

  Uncertainty covered her face as she studied him, but then she nodded and he realized he’d been holding his breath just a little.

  He smiled. “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice husky, quiet, and sexy as hell.

  Poppy and Grace arrived and Maisie gathered their coats.

  “’Bye Hatch,” Poppy said, and he gave her a chin lift, then watched them walk out the door.

  Maisie

  “MAISIE?” GRACE ASKED in a worried voice as I pulled up to her house.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Daddy’s not home.”

  I turned to face her from the front seat. “I know, love. But Mum is.”

  “I know, but she’s been acting a little weird again.”

  “Really?” I asked. Grace nodded, so I gave her a bolstering smile. “Okay. We’ll go in and have a look, eh? If she’s bad, you’ll grab some things and come to my house. Poppy will stay here for now.”

  Grace nodded again and we headed inside. Alison had had issues with bi-polar disorder most of her life, but had been managing it beautifully with medication for years. She’d occasionally go a little off-kilter and her meds would need to be adjusted, but all would be well again. However, there had been a few times when it had taken longer to get the right “chemical balance” and she’d scared the children, but those were the times that Niall, Ryan, and I would step in for extra support. It was why she’d been at the doctor the week before… she’d needed to adjust her meds again.

  She was covered. Always.

  Stepping inside, I kept Grace behind me as we walked through the foyer. “We’re home!” I called.

  “Kitchen,” Ali called back. She sounded fine, but I knew that could be a smoke screen.

  We walked up to the island and I studied Alison who was emptying dishwasher. “How did it go?”

  “Really well,” I said. “Cassidy Quinn said she’s going to call you this week to talk about options for Grace. She thinks she’s ready for the next step.”

  “Wow, honey,” Ali exclaimed and hugged Grace. “That’s amazing!”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  When Alison turned back to the dishwasher, Grace gave me an “all clear” nod, so I said my goodbyes and headed back to the car.

  As Poppy and I drove home, my thoughts were consumed by Hatch. I
felt like a teenager with her first crush again. Or maybe more accurately for the first time. I’m sure I felt that way with Niall; I just couldn’t remember… we’d been together forever. Hatch set me on edge. And on fire. And ice cold. Plus, he made me flutter. God, I really was ridiculous.

  “Mum? What did Mrs. Quinn say after class?” Poppy asked as we walked into our condo.

  “Pajamas then I’ll fill you in.”

  She frowned. “That sounds bad.”

  “It’s not bad, Poppet.” I smiled. “Not at all.”

  I could tell she didn’t really believe me, but she rushed off to get ready for bed and I changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt. I was just happy to get my bra and heels off for the day.

  Poppy returned and we curled up in Niall’s chair. It was the place we went when we needed to feel safe.

  “Mrs. Quinn asked me how you felt about ballet,” I said.

  “I love it,” she said emphatically.

  “I know, darling. But she wanted to know what your motivation is, I suppose for a better term. Not just if you enjoy it but if you could live without it.”

  “I have to dance,” she whispered.

  “Have to because your soul has to?”

  She shook her head.

  “Why do you have to dance, Poppet?” She was quiet as I stroked her hair, but I could hear her quiet sniffles. “What’s this now?” I lifted her face. “Why are you crying, darling?”

  “I have to dance because Daddy wanted me to dance.”

  “He did?”

  She nodded, the tears streaming now. “I found a picture he’d drawn of me. I was dancing and he’d made a little note about how much he loved me and how happy he was when I danced. I don’t want Daddy to be sad in heaven.”

  “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl.” I pulled her close and rubbed her back as the floodgates opened and she sobbed into my chest.

  Bloody hell.

  I hoped that whatever words came out of my useless mouth were the right ones. “Your daddy loved you and he probably drew that picture because you were two and the cutest little ballerina in the world… and he loved to draw. Just like you do. You know he doodled all the time. But you’d have been the cutest little bull rider if that’s what you were doing at two… not that bull riding’s on the table, love… just to be clear.” She let out a giggle snort and I kissed her head. “It doesn’t matter what you do, darling, he’ll always love you. If you want to dance, do it because it feeds your soul and you can’t live without it. Or you can do it just because. There’s no pressure.”

  “Is that what Mrs. Quinn said?”

  “She said she could tell you weren’t into it quite like Gracie. You know how much she bleeds ballet.”

  “Totally,” Poppy agreed.

  “So she said you had a choice to make, because you’re getting older and if you really want to take this all the way, it would be a good idea to plan.”

  She turned her watery gaze on me. “So she doesn’t think I suck?”

  I smiled. “Not even close. You work far too hard to suck.”

  She bit her lip and sighed. “I like ballet, but I don’t know if I love it like Gracie.”

  “I don’t know that anyone could love it like Gracie, love.”

  “If I stop dancing, will you be mad at me?” she asked. “Will Daddy?”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  “Am I allowed to do something else?”

  There was my little negotiator. “Like what? The chorus?”

  “No one wants to hear me sing, Mummy.”

  “Yes, there is always that, dear heart.” I smiled. “Um, what about piano?”

  She shook her head.

  “Hmm… well, what do you have in mind?”

  “Could I start taking riding lessons instead?” she asked, hopefully.

  “I can certainly look into that, yes. But you’ve committed to finish out the ballet session, so you need to keep that commitment, then we’ll look at something else if you’d like to.”

  She nodded as she snuggled closer and I stroked her hair.

  “I wish I could remember him,” she whispered.

  “I know, love. Is it time for popcorn and old movies?”

  She gasped. “Tonight?”

  I chuckled. “No, it’s a bit late for a school night, but we can do it tomorrow after tea.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  We sat like this for a while. She was growing up so fast, but I still remembered the tiny baby feeding at my breast.

  “I like Hatch,” Poppy whispered.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. He’s nice. And he thinks you’re pretty.”

  I craned my head. “What?”

  “His eyes get soft when he looks at you,” she said. “Like how Uncle Ryan looks at Auntie Ali.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. See? Twelve going on… whatever. Too old. She was far too observant for her own good. “Well, I’m not sure we can go that far, sweetheart. Uncle Ryan loves Ali like your daddy loved me. That takes time.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I like him.”

  “I like him too,” I admitted after a minute. “Time for bed, I think.”

  Poppy sat up, but didn’t climb off the chair. “Thanks for always letting me talk about Daddy.”

  “Why wouldn’t I, love?”

  “Because it makes you sad sometimes, and I don’t want to make you sad.”

  I felt my nose burn, but I staved off the tears. “Well, it was sad that Daddy died, but talking about it helps, so never stop okay?”

  She nodded, kissed me, and then skipped off to her room. I held myself together until she was in bed and then I melted into my own and sobbed for Poppy and her huge heart to think her dad would be sad in heaven if she stopped dancing. Sobbed because talking of Niall did still hurt a bit, the loss ever present, the alone feeling always in the back of my mind... and then I sobbed myself into exhaustion, and finally sleep.

  * * *

  Hatch

  Hatch’s phone burned in his pocket. It had been twenty-four hours since he’d left Maisie and he wanted to call her. Had wanted to call her all day, but he’d stopped himself.

  Shit. This could not happen.

  He stared up at the car he was working on and tried to put her out of his mind.

  “Hatch!” Buzz called out. “Where you at?”

  “Down here, brother.” He climbed the stairs and met Buzz at one of the rolling doors of the shop. “What’s up?”

  “Prez needs ya,” Buzz said. “He’s on the phone.”

  Crow was the Club’s president and he didn’t call a whole lot. Usually topics were discussed and resolved at church on Wednesdays, so if the Prez was calling something was up.

  “Why didn’t he call my cell?” Hatch asked.

  “He said he did.”

  “Shit. Okay, let me wash up.” Hatch tore off his gloves, washed his hands, and pulled his cell from his pocket. It was dead. He headed into the office, found his charger and plugged in, before grabbing the shop phone. “Prez?”

  “Hey, Hatch. Got time to take some parts up to Abe’s shop?”

  Hatch shook his head. Abe’s shop was in the Pearl. Fuckin’ fate.

  * * *

  Maisie

  I left the conference room, Ali following quickly behind me. “Then what?” she demanded.

  “Shh, hold on,” I ordered, and led her into my office, closing the door behind me. “He showed up.”

  “He joined you for dinner?” Ali squeaked.

  “For about ten minutes, love,” I said, and sat at my desk.

  “Ohmigod, had I known the happiness of your vagina was at stake, I would have picked up both girls and taken them back to my house.”

  I didn’t fill her in on any of this the night before considering Grace was with me and we were making sure all was good. I rolled my eyes. “Let’s not rush any of this, Alison. Good lord, he’s just a nice man who offered to pay me back for dinner.”

  “By taking you o
ut!” She grinned. “He wants into your panties.”

  “Alison,” I admonished. “You know how I hate that word.”

  Alison flopped into the chair across from me with a groan. “You run one of the largest sex toy businesses in the United States! How is it you get all squirrely at the word ‘panties’?”

  I shuddered. “Because it’s gross.”

  “Moist panties.”

  “Gah! You’re disgusting.”

  Alison laughed like she couldn’t stop, and I rolled my eyes. When she got on a tear, there was no stopping her. As Alison continued to giggle (having to grab for a tissue because her nose was running), my phone rang and I fished it out of my purse. “Bloody hell,” I whispered.

  “What?” Alison asked wiping her nose.

  I jabbed a finger toward my phone. “It’s him.”

  “Don’t answer it. Be cool.”

  My stomach roiled. “But I’m not cool.”

  “I know, babe, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

  This was very, very true. I set the phone on my desk and let it go to voicemail. “What if he doesn’t leave a message?”

  “Then you wait for him to call again.”

  I bit my lip. “Shouldn’t I call him back?”

  “No. Let him chase you.”

  “I don’t want him to chase me.”

  “Yes you do,” Ali argued.

  I shook my head, the panic really setting in now. “No. I don’t.”

  My phone buzzed on the desk and I jumped with a squeak. Raising my head to meet Alison’s dancing eyes; I grimaced and whispered, “He left a voicemail.”

  “I see that.” She grinned. “Listen to it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I’ll do it.” She snatched the phone off my desk and dialed the voicemail, putting it on speaker.

  “Hey, Maisie, it’s Hatch. I’m in the area. Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab dinner. I’ll be here for another half-hour or so, so let me know.”

  Then he hung up, as did Alison. “Sexy voice,” Alison said.

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “You call him back.”

  “I have a daughter. I can’t just go to dinner with someone on a whim.”

  “I can take care of Poppy.” She waved her finger toward me in a circular motion. “You need to take care of your vagina.”

  “Stop with the vagina talk!” I snapped. “I’m not having sex with him. Or anyone. Ever again.”