She took a hesitant step forward.
“C’mon. Don’t sweat it. I only live about three miles from here,” he prompted. “Put the helmet on, and let’s go.”
“You’ll go slow, right?” she squeaked as she slipped the black life-saving device over her hair.
His muffled reply never reached her ears as he kicked the very loud engine to full vigor. She climbed on behind him, found purchase for her feet and wrapped her arms around his leathered torso. Here we go. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could manage without making herself dizzy.
The bike’s vibration shimmered through her as he turned them away from the building and onto the road. He slowly crawled toward the stop sign, and then turned left and increased speed. Hopefully, the terrified squeal she released became lost in the roar of the engine and the howling wind.
She cracked her eyes open as her confidence increased. So far so good.
Suddenly, her own concerns scattered.
The images flashing past her tore at her soul. They had entered a residential section of the reservation apparently, and the condition of the homes amazed her. And not in a good way. Sad houses, mostly single wide trailers, sat haphazardly behind sagging chain link fences. A few of them boasted front porches, no more than stoops really, made from weather-damaged particleboard. The remaining tenants had stacked railroad ties or bricks to act as steps to the solid metal doors. Broken windows looked like crying eyes as the homes stared back at her.
Unhappy with the direction of her thoughts, she turned her head to face the other way. The opposite side of the street proved no better.
Hawk made another left, then a right before he slowed to a stop in front of a newer doublewide. He cut the engine and swung his leg over the bike in front of him, leaning his rear on the seat as he smiled in her direction.
“You can let go now.” He laughed.
She hadn’t realized she still clung fiercely to him until he pointed it out. She chuckled at herself as she let him go. Then she reached up and took off the helmet.
“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
“I suppose not. You didn’t kill me, anyway,” she replied reluctantly.
“Let’s go see what Jake made for dinner,” he suggested. Smirking, he pushed himself off the seat and helped her dismount.
He lifted his pack and her belongings from the saddlebags in one strong hand and escorted her to the front door. His free hand pressed against the small of her back and tendrils of heat bore through her.
Was she insane to spend the night here? Intelligent and worldly, she knew what would happen tonight. She doubted seriously if he intended her to sleep in a guest room. She answered her own silent question with a resounding “probably”. But she didn’t care. Her body already responded to the erotic thoughts running through her mind.
He opened the unlocked door and ushered her inside. The neatly-appointed living room into which she entered screamed, “Men live here!” Instead of a painting over the fireplace, an electronic dartboard hung over a collection of darts. The oversized sofa and twin chairs-and-a-halves looked comfortable and welcoming. The enormous, flat-screen television nearly covered an entire wall as it tuned in a professional basketball game.
“Come on! You asshole! My grandmother could have made that lay-up!” a man shouted from a battered recliner.
Candice jumped at the unexpected voice, placing a hand to her chest.
Hawk sighed and shook his head. “Candice, meet my brother Jake.”
Chapter Eight
Hawk should have known better than to bring Candice to his place when the Timberwolves were playing. True to his usual form when the T-wolves played, Jake wore his team jersey, had painted his face in black and blue and gripped a reduced-sized basketball with the team logo on it. Hawk sighed, retrieved a throw pillow from the end of the sofa and tossed it at the back of his brother’s head.
“What the hell?” Jake turned and then laughed as he threw the pillow back. “Oh, it’s you. Boozhoo, bro.” He straightened to his full height as he eyed Candice. “And who do we have here?”
The strains of jealously coursing through him clawed at Hawk’s gut like fire. He felt his expression narrow as he glared at his younger brother. He didn’t like the feeling. He’d never been jealous of anyone. Ever confident and generally even-tempered, he’d prided himself for his realism and common sense. He ran a hand through his hair, willing his body to relax. This was the second time since he’d met Candice for the green-eyed beast to rear its scaled head.
The thought shook him as he set his pack and Candy’s belongings on the sideboard by the front door.
“Candice Lincoln. She’s staying with us tonight, so if you’re having trouble with the T-wolves, I would suggest you turn off the game before you make a fool of yourself.”
“Bite me, bro,” Jake offered casually as he grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “Nice to meet you, Candice. Come on in and make yourself at home.”
“Thanks, and you don’t have to turn the game off for me. I have four brothers addicted to the NFL. I’m used to game day,” she replied as she moved further into the room.
Hawk realized then he knew so little about her. Four brothers. This was the kind of personal information against the rules for a one-night stand. But then, so was having lunch, working together and spending the night together a second time. In his heart, Candice had left the realm of a casual-sex-one-nighter the moment he’d seen her. He knew it and it drove him to distraction. “What’s for dinner?” Hawk’s voice sounded clipped, even to himself.
Get a grip. Don’t be an asshole.
“Navajo Tacos. I just have to fry the bread and we’re set.”
“Candy?” Hawk cleared his throat. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to help Shit-For-Brains in the kitchen for a sec and I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” she quipped, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling out her cell-phone charger from her satchel. “Um. Is there someplace I can plug this in?”
“Sure. Right behind that end table.” Jake pointed behind her.
Once in the kitchen, Hawk placed both his hands on the counter and lowered his head slightly.
“Man, where did you find her? She’s hot.” Jake’s wolf whistle from behind him spun Hawk as swiftly as if he’d been punched.
“You keep your hands to yourself, you got me?”
Jake lifted both of his hands, palms out, in a posture of mock surrender. “Whoa, Gekek. Simmer down. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Hawk groaned and turned away. He had no call to attack his own brother like that. What was happening to him? He felt like a starving man, his animal side lashing out in the most primitive of defenses. Don’t mess with my life’s force. But Candice wasn’t his life force.
Was she?
No. She’s a one-night stand, that’s all. So, she’d soon be a double-header, but he would let her go after tonight. He didn’t want the complications of a relationship right now.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jake opened the refrigerator and pulled out several plastic containers of taco toppings.
I’m dying because I can’t have her.
The whole thing seemed pretty ridiculous. His own honor and self-prescribed mission to change the lives of his people stood guard over his heart like ancient warriors. He didn’t have time for a personal life. And it seemed pretty unlikely a big-shot like Candice would either.
“Nothing, man. Sorry.”
“You got something going with her?”
Hawk flipped the dial on the gas stove and moved a cast iron griddle over the blue flame. “Not really. It’s just a fling, I guess.”
He cast a sideways glance at Jake who didn’t seem convinced.
“Whatever you say, Mike.”
~* * *~
It’s just a fling, I guess.
Hawk’s words spun in her mind like a top. Candice nearly whimpered before she placed her hand over her mouth
, turned on silent feet and walked back into the living room.
What did she think? He loved her? She’d met him two days ago! And she certainly wasn’t falling for him. She couldn’t be. Their lives were too different, their cultures constantly clashing. The very thought of a relationship with him was...
Absurd.
So why did his words wound her to the pits of her soul?
“You okay in here?” Hawk crossed the living room and stood in relaxed composure as he leaned against a built in bookcase flanking the fireplace, smattered with snapshots, books and memorabilia.
“Yes,” she lied.
“You want a drink?”
“Sure.” Got any champagne and strawberries?
“Coming right up. And dinner’s almost ready.”
His tall, straight back beckoned to her when he turned toward the small, wet bar beside the television. Her fingers itched to take out his pony-tail and comb the long black strands. Her stomach clenched and liquid fire pooled in her gut. They would make love again tonight. It was unavoidable. She knew it as fact. Like air, water, food and shelter, touching him was necessary.
Almost frightened by the thought, she hugged herself with one hand across her midsection as she stood and took the drink he offered.
“You cold?” Hawk’s eyes narrowed.
Freezing. “No, I’m fine.”
Looking for something to take her mind off her childish fantasies, she stared at the photographs on the dark wood shelves. She found a picture of four men, three of them in full Native American regalia. Second from the left, Hawk’s image smiled broadly, his hair braided with bright red and yellow feathers which matched the red, yellow and orange of the outfit. He looked like a mystical fire god. She also recognized Jake in the photo, his regalia more subtle, but if the patterns on the fabric were made of beads, as she suspected, it must have taken hundreds of hours to complete.
“Those are my other brothers,” Hawk indicated. He appeared beside her, so close she could feel his body heat reaching out for her. She trembled inside. “That’s me and Jake. And this is Remy, without the regalia, and that’s Adam. He’s a drummer. He also makes flutes and drums in the tradition of the old ways. They live in North Dakota.”
“Do you see them much?”
“Every so often. Except for Adam. I see him all the time.”
“He travels here, or do you go there?”
“He plays all the major Pow Wows. Since I usually dance at them, we keep tripping over each other.” She liked the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his family. “He’s also a dream-walker. Whenever something really, really important comes up, he might even show up in my dreams. It isn’t often, but considering he’s the oldest and feels sort of responsible for us, it happens.”
Candice felt a cold shiver run up her spine. Born and raised in the real world, the concept of someone infiltrating another’s dreams freaked her out just a little bit. Hawk must have sensed it as his muscles bunched and his body became as rigid as a board.
“Our father went to prison when we were all just kids. I was fourteen, and even though Adam was only sixteen, he sort of took over. Mom died when we were younger.”
The ability to form a sentence escaped her. His father was in prison? She wanted to know why, how, but didn’t ask. The memory obviously pained him.
“Soup’s on, people,” Jake yelled from the dining room.
Her tension dissipated somewhat with the normalcy of the statement. She squeaked, “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Throughout dinner, Jake kept the conversation light and friendly. Candice found herself wondering about Hawk’s childhood; how he managed to go to college with no mother and a father in prison. He could have so easily fallen into the trap of alcohol and despair like so many of his people. But instead, he’d focused his attention on changing the rules, making life better for himself and everyone around him. Amazed by his giving spirit, she wanted to know everything about him.
But she didn’t ask the dozens of questions floating in her mind. She didn’t have any right to.
After dinner, she insisted she help with the dishes. Jake ushered Hawk into the other room. “I know you brought work home with you. Go get it done. Candice and I can handle the kitchen.”
Hawk left them alone, although Candice sensed he forced himself to.
Stop imagining things, little girl. It’s just a fling. He said so himself. She pretended not to notice the stab of pain brought about by the thought.
“So what’s your story?” Jake asked, his friendly tone softening the direct question.
She collected their plates and flatware and followed Jake into the kitchen. “I don’t really have one,” she sighed. “Raised in your typical middle class neighborhood in upstate New York. Constantly belabored by four overprotective brothers. Professional father, school teacher mother. College at University of Virginia, Charlottesville. Married the wrong guy, divorced the right guy and now I write for National Pulse Magazine. The end.”
“I doubt that.”
“Really. There’s nothing more to tell.”
“You don’t get to be a staff writer for a mag like the Pulse without some seriously hard work.”
“You got that right. I worked my ass off for years. Covering news all over the world for a couple of other magazines and newspapers. Now I’m full-time based in New York. It’s steady work. I like it.”
She lied and hoped he couldn’t tell. He was easy to talk to and she feared she would spew out more information than she wanted Hawk to know. She had a feeling anything she told Jake, he would tell his brother. Not because he meant any harm, but because the brothers were obviously close.
“How long were you married?” Jake stacked the dishes she rinsed in the dishwasher.
“Four very miserable years.”
“Marriage is rough, sometimes. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been married, and the only one of my brothers to give it shot is also divorced. I’m in no hurry, let me tell you.”
Jake chuckled and then sighed. “Mike has always been too busy to find anyone. Man, that guy knew what he wanted when he was like twelve. Our dad always told us we could be whatever we wanted.” Jake laughed at an apparently happy memory. “Mike took him seriously.”
“How do you mean?” Candice tried to sound nonchalant, but the chance to learn more about the man working silently in the other room quickened her heart too much to let it go.
Jake wiped the counter and tossed the sponge into the sink. “You should know something about Mike, if what’s going on here is what I think is going on. Mike is a workaholic. He spends every waking moment on the job. And when he’s not working, he’s practicing his dancing or performing at Pow Wow’s to help keep the heritage alive and maybe even teach mainstream society that not all Indians are alchies and abusers. The kids around here listen to him, count on him, and follow him. Some of the adults hate him for trying to change things. A few of the elders are still bitter over our lost way of life. Attitudes like that sent the Nations into a downward spiral for years. Mike always wanted to change the world. And now he is.”
Any wild fantasies Candice had about falling in love with Hawk died painfully at Jake’s words. She had no right to interfere with Hawk’s life work. She wished she’d gone back to her hotel after all.
When she made love with him tonight, and there still remained no doubt in her mind that she would, she knew what small part of her heart he hadn’t already taken would be his.
And she’d have to go home without it.
Chapter Nine
Hawk tried to concentrate on the financial files he’d brought home from the office. The government grants helped, but the reports were still a mess. He should be figuring out how to find more funds, but instead his mind kept returning to Candice.
Surrendering to his distraction, he closed the files and put them back in his pack. They could wait until morning. He poured himself another drink and ran a hand over his face. Tighter than a bowstring, his
body throbbed with anticipation.
It was only seven-thirty. Too early for bed, unfortunately.
Already feeling guilty, he knew he’d have her tonight. He shouldn’t. Not when he had no intention of offering her a commitment, or even a date. He shook his head at the dilemma. Leave her alone and let his heart wither into nothingness, or take her, feed from her, worship her while she was here, and let guilt kill him tomorrow.
Candice turned the corner into the living room and offered him a smile. Her lush curves called to him, making his shaft fill with blood like an injection. His painful erection cut into his jeans and he knew guilt would win. If he didn’t do something, he’d throw her over the back of the sofa and take her right here.
He set his drink down and stared at her. “You feel like going for a walk?”
“Sure,” she answered.
The sun wouldn’t set for another couple of hours. The heat of the day had burned off, and even though a storm threatened, the wind had gentled to a low breeze as they stepped off the porch.
They walked in silence for about a half mile, before Hawk turned them toward an old barn with a dilapidated singlewide skeleton off to one side. “I just have to check on my horses,” Hawk explained.
“Horses?”
“Of course. I’m an Indian. Don’t you know all Indians have horses?” His lips spread into sexy, lop-sided grin.
She laughed at his joke. His ability to tease was one of the things she loved about him.
No. Not love. She erased the internal commentary with a swift stroke of her mental delete key. “Please... Native American,” she teased back.
“Actually, I only have three left. I used to have about twenty head.”
“What happened to them?”
“I sold them,” he almost whispered.
“But you didn’t want to?”
He shrugged his wide shoulders. He’d changed out of his work clothes and wore a black, chest hugging T-shirt and blue jeans with rough, worn holes in the knees. His hair hung loose around his shoulders now as well, and she shivered at the remembered feel of the silky strands caressing her breast as he made love to her.
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