The Stone Family Heart - Taylor Hart Page 0,64

at the red Harley, running his hand lightly over the polished leather and shiny silver. “Wow.”

“You like it?”

Marshall was a bit overwhelmed with the gift. “Uh, yeah, I like it.”

“We hoped you would.” Trey moved to the pile of junk next to it. “You see, Ava suggested a new bike, but I suggested an old bike.” He clapped a hand down on Marshall’s shoulder. “Give you some fun.”

It was true. Marshall yearned to pick up tools and begin working. Well, after he rode the new one, of course. Emotion stuck in the back of his throat. “Thanks.”

Trey nodded. “You bet.”

Marshall turned his attention to the bike that needed work, feeling purpose flow through him. “Oh, yeah. This will be fun.”

“Only to you,” Trey said with a grunt.

Marshall crouched and began to take mental notes. The fuel gauge would need to be replaced. The brakes needed new pads. The …

“Remember when you and Kat would spend hours in this garage while you worked on that old bike of yours?”

Again, her name caught him off guard. He stood, unsure how to handle his brother’s question.

“She told Ava you looked good last time she saw you.”

Marshall swallowed hard. He and Kat had sat in jail with the rest of his siblings and the beach crew, and he’d found himself right next to the woman. It’d been strange. The girl had been his best friend. To be honest, he’d always wanted to be more than friends with her.

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. Her husband—the guy she’d picked over him—had passed in the service.

“You should reach out to her.”

“Why would I do that?”

“No reason.” Trey smiled brightly. “You and her. You two were together all the time when we were here, and—”

“That was a long time ago,” Marshall said quickly, unnerved by the way Trey was looking at him.

“I know.” Trey rolled his eyes and sucked in a long breath. “Never mind.”

“Yeah.” Marshall wasn’t going to do this with Trey. Hadn’t he talked enough about Kat in his therapy sessions recently? Which had been weird. He still didn’t know what to think about the fact that he was still angry about something that had happened so long ago.

The two men stood staring awkwardly at each other.

“Uncle Marshall!” Micah called out, rushing toward him.

Marshall had been surprised by how easy it had been to accept and love this kid. He hugged Micah, then ruffled his hair. “I think you’re two inches taller than the last time I saw you.” It had been at Kensi and Tim’s wedding a couple months ago.

Micah pointed to Marshall’s arm. “I think your bicep is two inches bigger than the last time I saw you. How do you do that?” He scrunched up his face. “No matter what I do, I can’t get definition.”

It didn’t hurt Marshall’s feelings to have the kid hero-worship him a bit. He managed to keep his next thought to himself: Micah’s biological father, Charles, had always been a wimp. “What can I say? It’s the ’roids.”

“Stop,” Trey said, moving back to the front of the house.

Marshall and Micah followed, both laughing.

“Right, Uncle Marshall,” Micah said. “You have to do drug tests all the time; you couldn’t be on steroids.”

Marshall pointed at him. “Not on the ’roids. Just good living, I guess.”

Plus crazy amounts of protein and crazy amounts of working out, but who was counting all of that?

Trey nudged Marshall’s shoulder and opened the passenger door for Ava. “’Roids,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Marshall grinned at his big brother. Trey had softened since the hurricane when Marshall and his brothers had shown up and taken care of business around the inn. The whole retirement and marriage thing had contributed to that, too, and now fatherhood was being added to the mix. “You guys have fun, and don’t worry about anything, I got it all covered.”

“Thanks so much,” Ava said.

Trey shut her door, then turned to Marshall and patted his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” It was stupid, but Marshall had always longed for his brother’s approval. Something he hadn’t realized all these years.

Micah got in. “See ya, Uncle Marshall. Don’t break my board.”

“Oh, I’m breaking it. I’m going to show it how to really surf.”

Micah laughed and shut the door, waving.

Trey got in, and then they were backing out.

Marshall watched them go, feeling something akin to a father staying behind while the kids went and played. Well, not really that. At least not his own father. He had passed when Marshall was fifteen. His father had