Hurricane Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 1)

He looked out at the people who had shown up and took a few moments to acknowledge some with a nod or a quick smile sent their way. He didn’t read from a piece of paper, but rather spoke from his heart.

“Dad is the best man I know, except for my brother, and well, Max is a chip off the old block. My father taught Max and me what it means to be a man and how to be that man. His lessons came daily because his method was to teach by example. And those lessons didn’t stop once we reached adulthood. They kept on coming because Dad was a man who never stopped leading by example. His biggest lessons were on loyalty, perseverance, commitment”—he looked at me—“and love.” He kept his eyes glued to mine as he continued. “For years, Dad and I had a Friday phone call in which he never once failed to tell me that the love of a good woman was all I needed in life. He’d set a good example of that, too, in the life he shared with Mum. It’s that example that I know will guide me for the rest of my life.” His voice turned rough and I knew he was fighting his emotions. I was fighting my own feelings of hope after what he said about needing the love of a good woman. I wanted to be that woman for him, but I wasn’t sure if he would see me as her again.

He turned to the photo of his father. “I’ll never forget the lessons you taught us, Dad, or the example you set, because every time I look at someone I love, I’ll be reminded of how you taught me to do that.”

My tears fell then. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.

He finished and came and sat next to me, this time spreading his arm over my shoulders across the back of the pew. I placed my hand back on his thigh and he didn’t tense under my touch like he had before. We stayed like that until the service finished, at which point Winter leaned in close and said, “I need to get out of here.”

When he stood and held his hand out to me, I took it.

I knew exactly what Winter meant when he said he needed to get out of here.

He needed his bike and the open road.

And my heart swelled that he wanted me with him.

26

BIRDIE

I clung to Winter as he pulled his bike into the hotel car park and found a park. Once he killed the engine, I hopped off and removed my helmet. He followed suit, barely meeting my gaze. We then walked the short distance to the lift and waited for it to arrive. In silence.

Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. 4:32 p.m. We had the whole night ahead of us and I wondered if it would be spent the same way this afternoon had been, with Winter barely talking to me.

After we’d left the crematorium this morning, we spent a couple of hours on his bike. I’d taken it as a sign he might be ready to talk, but after the ride, he took us to Max’s house for the wake and he’d then spent the afternoon talking to everyone but me. He didn’t ignore me, but he certainly seemed more comfortable having a conversation with his dad’s friends than having one with me. Any time we spoke, it had been quick and to the point.

I didn’t know what to expect now and I didn’t know how much space I was supposed to give him, but hell, he’d said goodbye to his father today, so I was keeping close in case he needed me.

The lift arrived and we stepped inside. Winter tapped our hotel key so he could select our floor and we silently rode up. He stared straight ahead; I stared at the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and the tattoos that covered his arms. I still hadn’t dedicated enough time to checking out all the ink he’d gotten in the last

five years. God, I hope I get the chance.

We reached our floor and then our room and Winter let me in, holding the door open. My eyes met his as I brushed past him, and when I turned after walking to the bed, I found him watching me.

The door clicked closed after him, and he came in and placed his helmet down. “Thank you for today.” Eyes still on me.

The jagged edge to his voice had me wanting to go to him with my arms out wide, but the way he held himself back from me caused me to hold myself back, too.

Winter was grateful for my presence today, but in no way was he ready for me to get close.

Trying to ignore the awkwardness between us, I said, “I heard you last night, Winter, so I’m giving you space, but if you need me, I’m here.” When he didn’t respond to that except to keep looking at me with the same intensity he’d watched me with earlier, I said, “I just need you to know that, okay? We don’t have to talk; we can just be together if that’s what you need.”

Finally, he nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me, his elbows resting on his knees, his head dropped. If I had to use only one word to describe him today, it would have been broken. Anyone who didn’t know Winter well wouldn’t have used the same word, but as far as I was concerned, my man was utterly broken. And I felt completely useless and unable to help him.

My phone sounded with a text.

* * *

Cleo: How is everything? How was the funeral? How’s Winter?

* * *

Winter stood, dragging my attention back to him. “I’m gonna have a shower.”

When the bathroom door closed behind him, I went back to my phone.

* * *