Page 152 of Hard Heart

Levi paused in the doorway for a moment, watching Serafina. Soft curves, sunlight across her face, blonde hair spread across his pillow. Someday, he’d paint that memory, but not today. Today, he’d make her breakfast and learn more about the woman he was going to marry.

He hadn’t planned to bring it up that way, but there was never going to be anyone else, and he had a habit of blurting out his feelings when she was around. If she wanted a big wedding, that might have to wait a while—he didn’t know how much of the money was left in his studio cubby, although he’d be able to make more. As part of the deal with the governor, he’d kept the Lake Sterling website, and the password for the Etsy store was now his. Serafina planned to continue working too—her boss said she could spend three days a week in the office and the other two at home, so she was keeping the room in Richmond, and they’d commute back and forth.

He had a future to look forward to, one that he hadn’t thought possible.

Serafina had mentioned that she’d bought groceries, and he hoped there was coffee. Walking through the house was like being in a dream, although it felt different from how he remembered. The walls had been painted, the furniture changed, but it was more than that—it was her. She made his whole world a better place.

Ruby had done that too. He didn’t regret his time with her, only the ending, and in time, he’d tackle those feelings. But for the moment, he could only think of Serafina.

She hadn’t just bought groceries, she’d stocked the entire kitchen. The refrigerator was full. A new coffee machine sat on the counter alongside a bowl of fruit. He didn’t know what she liked to eat for breakfast, but he figured toast was a safe bet, and he was a scientist—he could work out how the coffee machine operated. He found a fresh loaf of bread and a package of ground coffee, and that was when he spotted the envelope propped against the toaster. His name was typed on the front, so he opened it.

Levi,

I’m shit at apologies, but I’m sorry for everything that happened. I can’t turn back time, but I can try to make things easier going forward.

A

P.S. I have all your research stuff backed up if you want it.

P.P.S. Your dad is still an asshole.

Alexa wasn’t wrong about that last part. Levi’s father had been conspicuous by his absence throughout his son’s ordeal, although Serafina said he’d given several media interviews that doubled as ads for his new coffee brand. Huh. Coffee. Levi checked the package in his hand. There was no mention of Linus Sykes, and the beans came from a cooperative in Colombia, so they were probably safe. And he did appreciate the apology from Alexa. None of this had been her fault, and as Serafina said, his former friends had backed her at the end. He was about to throw the envelope in the recycling bin when a smaller card fell out. There was a website address printed on it, plus a username and password. He didn’t have a laptop or even a phone, so he’d have to ask Serafina to check it out.

Later.

Breakfast came first; Serafina would come second. He owed her a lifetime of orgasms, and where the fuck was he going to get rose petals from when his car had been parked in the garage for ten years and undoubtedly had a flat battery?

“Yes, I know I should have called, but⁠—”

Serafina was sitting cross-legged in bed, the sheet draped across her lap, and she put the phone face down on the mattress for a moment.

“It’s my parents,” she hissed. “I’ve been ignoring their calls, so they borrowed Flora’s phone to trick me into answering. Can you believe that?”

“My mom paid our mailman to spy on me, so I’d believe anything.”

She picked up the phone again. “No, of course I haven’t been avoiding you; I’ve been busy with work, that’s all.” The colour drained out of her face. “Uh, what? What headlines?” She mouthed, “Help me.”

The sheet fell away as she hurried across the room and pulled a tablet out of her purse, and Levi leaned over her shoulder as she scrolled through a British tabloid website. They’d made the news across the pond?

A legal scandal? Photos confirm unconvicted murderer Levi Sykes and his lawyer are an item.

“I’m not his lawyer, Mum. My boss is his lawyer. Yes, I know I passed the bar exam—again—but that’s not how it works. … Actually, it is an important distinction.”

Levi knew she hadn’t told her parents about them yet, that she’d been waiting for the right moment because her dad hated artists in general and artists with murder convictions in particular. She’d wanted to wait until the pardon came through.

Now, she winced and held the phone away from her ear as her mom voiced her thoughts on the matter.

Levi held out a mug of coffee. “You want me to put a shot of whisky in it?”

Sera took a couple of calming breaths. “Yes, he is here. No, I’m not drunk at”—she checked her watch—“nine thirty in the morning. It was a joke. … Mum, he’s not a convicted murderer. He was completely exonerated. That’s literally what I’ve been working on for the past five months. … What? No! I’m not switching to a video call; this isn’t a bloody hostage situation.”

Levi had to chuckle. This sounded like the type of conversation he’d had many times with his mother, but at least Mrs. Hennessy was four thousand miles away.

“He isn’t using me as a meal ticket. He owns his home, and he has a job.” Too late, she realised her mistake. “Uh, he’s an artist.”

“Tell her I have a master’s degree in chemistry?” Levi suggested.

“An artist with a master’s degree in chemistry,” she quickly amended. “Yes, I’m sure he could find a research position if he wanted to. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”