Page 48 of Hearts Don't Lie
“Uh-huh.”
“Mother’s Day. You got them for me.”
“They’re your favorite.”
“Yes, they are.” She smiled to herself, then kissed him on the temple. “Would you please set the table, honey? We’re eating on the patio.”
Hardin sidled next to Mac after Stowe went outside and gently lifted her chin. “Hi again,” he said before ghosting her lips, then capturing them and kissing her fully until both of them were panting. He stepped back, his thumb brushing over her swollen, wet lips. “I want more of that later, Mac.” He searched her face, and she gave him a subtle nod and smiled with her eyes.
“This isn’t going to be easy. We’re all reeling.”
“I know, babe. Challenges test our mettle.”
“They bring to light that which is most important.”
“Yes. There isn’t anything more important than him, you, and me.”
“I want that, Hardin,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
“As do I. With my heart and soul. And sweetness after challenges.”
“Yes.”
They smiled at each other and kissed again, stepping apart as the lever on the backdoor turned. Stowe’s expression was stormy as he looked from Mac to Hardin. He shoved between his parents and stomped to his room and slammed the door.
Mac and Hardin were halfway through dinner when Stowe came outside. He didn’t take a seat but a deep breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry, Mom. You raised me to be better than that.” He held out his hand to Hardin, his chin quivering, eyes blinking, fighting like mad to maintain his composure. “I acted like a brat. I’m sorry, Hardin.”
A huge wave of emotion hit Hardin. Appreciation, respect, awe, and love. He stood and faced Stowe and accepted his handshake—the peace offering, man to man. Touching his son for the first time was surreal. It was as if his heart and soul recognized Stowe for who he was. Hardin contemplated his son and cleared his throat, but his gruff voice betrayed the emotion roiling in him. “I get it, Stowe. Let’s just take this at a pace that works for all of us, okay?”
“I’d like that because I don’t know how to have a father.”
A smile split Hardin’s face. “I don’t know how to be a father, so bear with me. I expect I’m going to fu—”
Mac cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at him.
“Uh… Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, a naughty smirk appearing when his hand dropped below his mouth. “Sorry, and point made. I’m going to mess up plenty, Stowe. Not intentionally.”
“Grace and patience,” Mac said, looking at each of them deliberately. “That includes me. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Your mom made one heck of a dinner. Hungry?” Hardin had had a voracious appetite for as long as he could remember. He eased back into his seat and picked up his fork.
Stowe plopped into his seat. “Starving. Mom’s fajitas are kinda famous.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Owen wanted the recipe for his restaurant.”
“Owen?”
“He’s one of the owners of the Hazy Rebel. He and Mom used—”
She shook her head. “That’s enough, Stowe.”
Hardin sipped from his glass and considered. There was so much to unpack. How much time did he have? Whatever the amount, he needed more.
