by Jill Shalvis
“You mean the truck that you stole first—”
Hawk acknowledged that with a slight nod of his head. “I just need to know you and that truck are going to be here when I get out.”
“Because you need my computer.”
“Because I don’t need to come out to be surrounded by the cops.”
Pop.
She couldn’t help it. Maybe once she’d been brave, but all that courage had left her, and she covered her eyes.
“Abby?” She felt him shift closer, and then his big, callused palms slid up and down her limbs in a gesture that was somehow soothing, yet made her want to leap right out of her skin. “Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t give up on me now.” Up and down. Down and up.
The cold she’d felt only minutes ago had deserted her entirely. What was the matter with her? She opened her eyes and found her vision filled with his torso, the light from the lamp behind him blocked out by his broad shoulders. She had no idea what it was about a naked male chest that spun her wheels, had no idea such a shallow thing even could, but there it was. Lust, pure and simple, buzzed through her system and made her punch drunk.
“We’re so close,” he murmured, apparently clueless to what his hands were doing to her.
Yes. Yes, she was. Close to orgasmic bliss.
“After a quick catnap, we get your laptop,” he said. “And then we draw out Gaines.”
She dropped her gaze. Took in the scar over one pec. Without thinking, she ran a finger over it, eliciting a low sound from him.
“Abby.” His voice was hoarse. “What are you doing?”
She had no idea. “Just standing here.” She jerked her hand away from him.
“You were touching me. Looking at me. Like you wanted a bite of me.”
“No.” Yes.
Backing away, he lifted his hands in the air, then turned from her, once again shoving his fingers in his short hair. His unbuttoned jeans had slid down, revealing a line of black cotton and a sleek spine that was as edible as the rest of him.
Hawk headed to the bathroom, popping open that last button as he went. “Just…say you’re going to be here when I get out.”
Eyes glued to the seat of his jeans, which had slid to an almost indecent level, she couldn’t quite have answered the age-old question of briefs or boxers, but any second now—
“Abby?”
Her gaze jerked up as he turned. Oh, God. And caught her staring. Eyes narrowed, he lifted a hand and pointed a finger at her. “That.” He sounded more than a little off his axis. “What the hell was that?”
“N-nothing.”
Walking back toward her, he let out a sound of disbelief. “No, that wasn’t nothing. That was…heat. That was lust.”
She covered her face. “I’m sorry.”
A low laugh escaped him. “Abigail Wells, were you just lusting after me?”
“No.” She winced. “A little, maybe.”
He stared at her for one long beat. “Maybe or most definitely?”
Again she bit her lip.
“Look, you were just looking at me as if I was a twelve-course meal and you’d been fasting for two days. That, or you’re plotting my slow, painful murder.”
“A little of both, I think.”
“Okay, I really need to go now.”
“Hawk—”
But she was talking to his back. And as he walked into the bathroom, he kicked his Levi’s to the floor.
Knit boxers.
Then the door shut, leaving her standing there, knees a little bit wobbly. Her kidnapper had just flashed her the best buns she’d ever seen.
HAWK CAME OUT OF THE SHOWER with some trepidation. He’d faced war, he’d faced gangs, he’d faced a whole hell of a lot just in the past twenty-four hours alone, but now his stomach actually hurt as he opened the bathroom door and waited for the steam to dissipate, because this time he had no idea what was waiting for him.
Utter silence and pitch blackness.
Clearly Abby had shut the shades, but he couldn’t even hear her breathing, and he had some damn fine hearing.
Not. Good. “Abby?”
Nothing.
Christ. She was probably halfway to Cheyenne by now, with the police on their way here to take him to jail for a whole host of crimes he hadn’t committed.
He’d trusted her. He’d trusted her and she’d stabbed him in the damn heart. God, he really was an ass. Pissed, and more hurt than he cared to acknowledge, Hawk stepped into the dark room and tripped over the bed, then nearly had heart failure when someone lurched off the mattress and hit the floor with a small cry.
Abby.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” Rushing forward, hands out to find her, he felt a soft, curvy form and dropped to his knees at her side.
She was doubled over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath.
“Abby—” Eyes adjusted, he reached out to touch her, but was not surprised when she jerked back with another small cry, an animal sound really, that caused a sharp pain in his chest.
He’d felt pretty damn small several times in the past eight hours but that moment topped them all. It was the way he’d brought her here, of course, against her will. “Abby.”
“Don’t.”
Don’t what? Don’t touch? Don’t look? Don’t do any damn thing, likely enough. “You were sleeping.”
She didn’t answer, just panted as if she’d been running.
“I startled you,” he murmured.
“Not you,” she said with only a hint of that bravado he loved in her. “You didn’t scare me.”
“Okay.” Sitting back on his heels, Hawk studied her outline in the dark. She was still breathing heavily. “You were dreaming. Badly.”
She lifted a shoulder. The only admission he was going to get most likely.
“Tibbs called.” She said this so quietly that he had to lean in to hear her. When the words soaked into his addled brain, he froze.
Shit. “So should I expect to get my ass hauled out of here any time now?” He asked this with remarkable calm, given that his life was over.
She didn’t respond.
“Abby?”
She sighed, and he shook his head. Perfect.
13
“ABBY,” HAWK SAID AS CALMLY as he could, which wasn’t all that calmly. He wondered how much time he had. Ten minutes?
Less?
He should probably get dressed in more than just a damn towel. Because no way did he want to go to prison in only a towel. But before he could move, someone knocked on the door, and pretty much took five years off his life.
In the dark room, Abby drew a deep breath. A sound that held a good amount of guilt.
Damn. He gripped his towel and wished for clean clothes at least. He couldn’t even go out the window, they were on the second floor—
Another knock, which didn’t help his heart rate any. The way the poor organ had been abused tonight, it was a wonder it was still ticking at all. “Shit,” he said again, brilliantly.
“I didn’t answer when he called,” Abby said quietly.
He stared at her. What did she mean, she hadn’t answered the call? Hard to tell in the dark since he couldn’t read her expression.
The knock came again. Then Serena’s voice. “Hawk?”
Okay, maybe he could get those five years back. Holding onto his towel, he opened the door to find Serena holding a stack of folded clothing. “Hey,” she said, and looked him over with frank appreciation before grinning. “Damn.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Almost makes me sorry I dumped your workaholic ass.”
“Serena—”
“Oh, relax. I know what’s good for me and what’s not. And you are definitely not.” She thrust the clothing at him, which he struggled to grab and also keep a grip on the towel.
Serena appeared to enjoy the battle. “Thought you could use some of the clothes you left here. And I brought Abby something, too. Also, I pulled the truck into my garage.”
All irritation at her
interruption vanished. “Thanks.”
She tried to peer into the dark room behind him, but couldn’t. “Also, there’s a first aid kit in the pile, for that cut on your head. Do you need a doctor?”
He felt like he’d been hit with a Mack truck, but he was fairly certain he was going to live. “Nah. I’m okay.”
“All right, tough guy.” Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. “You’re in it deep again, aren’t you?”
“A little.”
“Honey, with you, there’s no ‘little’ anything.” And with a smile she walked away.
Hawk shut the door and turned back to the dark room. There she was. Still by the bed.
“Did she love you?”
He couldn’t believe that this was the conversation they were going to have before he went to jail. “She used to say she did.”
“She still wants you.”
He set the clothes on the foot of the bed. “She dumped me.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t change her feelings.”
Hawk reached for the light.
“Don’t, please.”
Easing back, he tried to see her. “Abby—”
“You let yourself be loved. I’m just trying to picture this, the big, badass, tough as nails, elusive, edgy Conner Hawk, letting himself be loved by a woman.”
“Badass?” With a harsh laugh, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t feel so badass. With you, I feel…”
“What?”
Since she sounded sincerely curious, he decided to tell her. “Like a sorry-ass marshmallow. Am I going to jail, Abby?”
“No.”
Relieved, he sank to the mattress. “And why is that?”
“Because while I retrieved Tibbs’s message, I didn’t speak to him.”
“What did he say?”
“That I need to tell him where I am. He said that they found the murder weapon in the clearing near the barn with your prints on the gun. Oh, and the barn was a complete loss—a total burn.”
That took some careful planning. Careful planning, and planting of explosives in the right spots.
Knowledge, of course, that Gaines had. “They have my prints because it’s my own damn gun,” he said tightly. “He took it from me. But how is it that the gun didn’t melt in the fire? Pretty damn suspicious if you ask me.”
“Agreed.”
Hawk didn’t know what hit him the hardest—that she’d stayed willingly when given a chance to leave or the quiet word that signaled she was beginning to believe him. It was a good thing he was already sitting, he was that shaky with relief. God. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d felt, how unnerved, and frankly, how fucking alone.
But he wasn’t alone at all. He leaned back against the headboard, and with the same care he’d give a nuclear bomb, reached for her. “Come here.”
Shockingly, she let him pull her in. He did so very slowly, not wanting to scare her off, but needing to feel her close. She sat at his side, but went still when he tugged her into the crook of his arm.
“Don’t,” she choked out.
“Shh. You’re okay.”
Instead of responding with a slug to the gut as he was more than half braced for, Abby absolutely devastated him by setting her head on his shoulder.
And then she finished him off by turning her face into his neck.
His entire body went still as stone because he was afraid if he moved, hell if he so much as breathed, he’d scare her and she’d scramble away. It shocked him how much he wanted her to stay, just as she was, curled against him, for, oh…the rest of his life.
Holy shit, if that wasn’t a thought. His need for her surprised him, but not more so than her clear reflection of it right back at him.
Whether she admitted it or not, she wanted him, too.
She trusted him. An onslaught of tenderness hit him so hard he nearly bawled like a baby. Gently, because he couldn’t resist, Hawk pressed his mouth to her temple, brushing his lips across her skin in a light caress, more for comfort than sex, though there were plenty of those urges as well. “You okay?” he whispered.
“I think so. It’s the first time I’ve done this, gotten this physically close since…”
He closed his eyes and struggled not to squeeze her. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Abby. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“I hurt you.” She was quiet a moment. “I hurt you and you didn’t hurt me back.”
“Yeah. The truth is, you could gut me right here, I’m that helpless when it comes to you. But not you. You are not helpless.”
“I was last time.”
He drew a careful breath to remain relaxed, as a shocking amount of violence suddenly coursed through him. “I’m sorry. So damned sorry.”
“They handcuffed me.”
Christ, he wished to God he’d never done that to her. He wished even more than he could go back in time and be there that day for her.
“To a wall. They took my clothes and brought out these jumper cables, which they said were effective in getting information out of people.”
He needed to shoot something. That might help.
“But Gaines rescued me just in time.”
He opened his eyes. “Before they—”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I was okay.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“No, I mean I don’t hate men or anything…” She let out a little laugh. “Contrary to how I’ve treated you.”
“I can’t tell you how very happy I am to hear that you don’t hate men, since I’m one. But…”
“But why, if I don’t hate men, did I treat you like crap from day one?” she guessed.
Hawk rubbed his jaw over the sweet silk of her hair. “Yeah.”
“Apparently not hating men and letting them close are two different ballgames entirely. Up until moving to Cheyenne, it was easy to keep my distance from guys. Probably too easy. Then I met you.”
He stopped breathing. “And…?”
“And I couldn’t keep my distance. So I pretended.”
“Okay, I have to do this.” Still moving slowly, he shifted onto his side, pulling her in for a hug, melting a little when she let him.
“You should know…” she said a little shakily “…that contrary to our position, I intend to keep my distance.”
He ran his jaw over her cheek, loving the softness. “Why?”
“Why?” She let out a little laugh. “Okay, so I’m not sure why exactly.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
“And as far as the physical stuff, we could go slow.”
“Yeah, see, that I doubt.”
Okay, she had a point. Reluctant or not, they had a chemistry, and he imagined if she hadn’t been inhibited, they’d already have used at least one condom from the basket on the counter in the bathroom.
“It’s been a long time for me, Hawk. A year. If I let us…if we sleep together, I’m not going to be able to take that lightly. And the opposite of not lightly? Not something I’m ready for, and I doubt you are either.”
“Ah, Abby.” With a sigh, he stroked a hand up her slim spine. “I’m so sorry you were dragged into this.”
“I dragged myself in.”
He was extremely aware of the fact that she hadn’t returned the hug. One of her hands was in her own lap, the other had slipped down and was resting, fist tightly closed, against his abs.
A little higher and she could feel what she’d done to his heart.
A little lower and she’d feel another body part entirely.
But he couldn’t help it. He was covered only by the towel, which was pretty insubstantial, and he was holding her.
And she believed him.
Hell, that alone had excited him. But then she let out a shuddery sigh, her breath fanning lightly across his neck in the most incredible sensation he could remember as a strand of her hair stuck to the stubble on his jaw.
He needed to get up, coax he
r into a shower of her own, and get some sleep, but he didn’t want to.
“You can stop worrying about me turning you in,” she said, her mouth still against his skin. “I can’t do that now. I couldn’t live with myself if it turned out everything you’ve said was true.” She lifted her face. “We have to see this through to the end.”
Because she humbled him to the core, because he didn’t think he could talk through the sudden lump in his throat, he lifted a hand and gently swept back her hair, tucking it behind her ear, using it as an excuse to sink his fingers into her hair while his thumb slid over her cheekbone. “Yeah. We’ll see it through. Together.” Unable to help himself, he leaned in, but Abby lifted her hand and slapped it to his chest.
“Really, really bad idea, remember?”
“I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree there, Ab.”
“I’m not kidding, Hawk.”
Yeah. Damn. He could see that.
“We…” She chewed on her lower lip and stared at his. “We shouldn’t.”
“So you keep saying. But I gotta tell you, you don’t sound all that certain.”
“Of course I don’t. I’m lying through my teeth.”
His heart literally skipped a beat, and unbelievably, he wanted to smile. He wanted to cry and smile at the same time. A true first. Leaning past her, he reached for the lamp.
“No, don’t—”
He looked into her eyes. “We’ve gotten past quite a bit tonight, let’s get past this as well, and see each other. I mean really see each other. Okay?”
He could feel her thinking it over. Hell, she was thinking so hard the air shimmered with it, and he brushed his mouth past her cheek. “Come on, Abby. You’ve trusted me this far….”
“Yeah, well, there’s trust, and then there’s trust.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
She fell silent, then let out a small laugh that had more nervousness than humor. “I don’t know.”
“Never fear the unknown.” And he flicked on the light.