She leaned against the railing. The music was slow and mournful in the way only a violin could achieve, singing of losses and a sadness so deep it made her chest hurt. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

Silhouetted against the pale sliver of a moon, an owl flapped over the lake with the soft whup-whup-whup of wide wings.

When the music halted, she straightened to go inside.

Catching the movement, he turned his head. Looked at her.

Rising, he walked inside.

Her throat tightened painfully. She shouldn’t have intruded on his solitude. On his music.

Her head bowed. She’d been thoughtless. Unkind.

Then she heard footsteps. With a flannel shirt on, but unbuttoned, and wearing shoes, Hawk came down his deck steps and strode across the courtyard.

Toward her.

Her wish to flee faded as he grew closer. The moon glow lightened his hair and short beard to blond, shadowed his eyes, and streaked the scars on his forehead, his neck, and the side of his face.

His expression was unreadable as he climbed the steps onto Mako’s deck.

She straightened. If he was angry, well, she deserved it.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.” She laced her fingers together. “The music was so beautiful, but I’m sorry for—”

“Intrude?” He frowned, then shook his head. “If I cared who listened, I’d fiddle in the forest.” His gaze swung across the semi-circle of houses filled with people.

A long exhalation of relief escaped her.

His eyes narrowed. “Worried, huh?” He cupped her chin and gently brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “You should complain I woke you up.”

Her gaze went past him to the dark, quiet lake. “That would be like complaining about moonlight on the water.”

He studied her for a moment. “Is Aric asleep?”

“Um-hmm.” His unbuttoned flannel shirt gave her glimpses of a very muscular chest.

“Kit.” His palm under her chin lifted her head. Her gaze met his. Was that laughter in his eyes? “You’re cold. Let’s go inside.”

“Right.” Disappointment rose as he opened the door for her. She turned to bid him goodnight and realized he’d followed her in.

Realized he’d said, “let’s go inside,” not “you go inside.”

Her heart started a heavy, suggestive beat. “Um, can I get you something to drink?”

“No.” He opened his arms. “Hug?”

She couldn’t think of anything she’d like better. Stepping forward, she put her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest—his bare chest.

Shock froze her for a moment, then she inhaled. His skin smelled clean, but of the woods rather than citrus or sage.

His hands settled on her waist, waiting…until she rubbed her face against him. Just the right amount of short, curly chest hair covered his warm skin and hard pectoral muscles.