Hawk's Way Grooms

by Joan Johnston

  “All right, I guess,” Randy replied. It dawned on him that she was going to need two hands. And that she was going to be using that hook on the end of her left arm as one of them. He felt a little jittery at the thought, and steeled himself not to shudder or do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

  He glanced up and caught Hope watching him through narrowed eyes. And realized she was there not to help her sister with the wedding favors, but to protect Faith from him. He wanted to reassure Hope, but at the moment he wasn’t certain how he was going to react when Faith hauled out that hook and started using it so close to his own hands.

  Then he saw Faith’s right hand was trembling and realized she was as scared as he was. A lump the size of Texas constricted his throat, and his chest felt like four football linemen had piled onto it.

  He reached out and picked up a piece of net and placed it on the table in front of her. “Ready for—” He cleared his throat and said, “Ready for some seed.”

  He watched her pick up a two-pound plastic bag of birdseed at the top with her real hand, then grasp the bottom with the hook and aim the open corner onto the net. Too much poured out.

  “Oh,” she said, setting the bag down abruptly. Her eyes darted nervously in his direction, then focused on the mess she’d made.

  He felt his heart pounding hard in his chest. If he blew this, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get a second chance. “It’s all right,” he said, reaching quickly for another piece of net. “I’ll divide this in two.” He suited word to deed and poured half the birdseed onto the second piece of net. “Now what?”

  “Get a piece of that pink ribbon over there.”

  The narrow silk ribbon had already been cut into lengths. While he grabbed the ribbon, she gathered the net around the seed with one hand, and held it closed at the top with the hook.

  As nonchalantly as if he tied ribbons into bows every day, he surrounded the net below her hook with the ribbon and tied a creditable bow. “How’s that?” he said when he was done.

  She released the hook from the net and slid it away as she surveyed his work, but he noticed she didn’t retreat with it under the table. “Pretty terrible,” she announced at last.

  He shot her an astonished look and saw she was smiling at him. His heart did a flip-flop. He looked back at the lopsided bow and said in an unsteady voice, “I’ll do better on the next one.”

  “Hey, there! Anybody home?”

  Randy looked over his shoulder at the screen door and said, “Hi, Jake.”

  “Hi, Jake,” Faith said.

  “I’ll see to Jake,” Hope said. “You two just keep on with what you’re doing.”

  “I’ve got that delivery of hay your father ordered,” Jake said when Hope pushed open the screen door. “Ask him where he wants me to put it.”

  “I’ll show you,” Hope said. “Follow me.”

  Hope was glad Randy hadn’t turned out to be a jerk. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to leave Faith behind with him. She’d been waiting a long time for the chance to get Jake Whitelaw alone.

  This was it.

  His shirt was dirty, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, sinewy forearms. His Stetson was sweaty around the brim, and shaggy black hair was crushed at his nape. His cheeks were hollow, and he had a sharp nose and wide-set, ice-blue eyes. He was half a foot taller than she was, lean at the hip, but with broad, powerful shoulders. He made her body come alive just looking at him.

  “How are you, Jake?” she said, walking with her shoulders back so her breasts jutted and her hips swayed.

  He eyed her sideways. “Just dandy,” he muttered.

  “Daddy wants that hay in the barn,” she said, hop-skipping to keep up with his long strides.

  “Why didn’t you just say so? You don’t need to come with me, little girl. I know where it goes.”

  Little girl. Hope ground her teeth. She’d show him she was no little girl! “There’s some stuff needs to be moved first,” she hedged. “Machinery that’s too heavy for me to pick up by myself.”

  “Why didn’t your daddy move it?”

  “I told him I could do it. That is, before I realized how heavy it was,” she fibbed.

  Jake didn’t look suspicious, but it wasn’t going to take long once they got inside the barn for him to realize she’d lied. The space where the hay was supposed to be stacked had been cleared out that morning. She opened the door and went inside first, then waited for him to enter before she closed the door behind him.

  Sunlight streamed through the cracks between the planks of the wooden barn, leaving golden lines on the empty, straw-littered dirt floor.

  He turned to confront her. “What the hell is going on, little girl?”

  She was backed up against the door to keep Jake from leaving. She put her hand over the light switch when he reached for it, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes in the stark light of the naked overhead bulb. He didn’t force the issue, merely stepped back and stood facing her, his legs widespread, his hands on his hips.

  “What happens now?” he said. “You want sex? Take off your jeans and panties and lie down over there on that pile of straw on the floor.”

  Hope’s eyes went wide when he started to unbuckle his belt. “Stop! Wait.” She was shocked by his brutally frank speech, by the rough sound of his voice, by his plain intention of taking what she seemed to be offering without any pretense of romance. This wasn’t how she’d imagined things happening between them.

  He had his shirt unbuttoned and was ripping it out of his jeans when he paused and looked her right in the eye. “You chickening out, little girl?”

  Maybe if he hadn’t made it a dare, she would have run, which is what she realized he expected her to do. She stared right back at him and began untying the knot at her midriff.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She watched his eyes go wide, then narrow. A muscle jerked in his cheek. He no longer seemed interested in taking his clothes off. He was too busy watching her. Waiting, she suspected, to see how far she would go.

  Her mouth was bone-dry, but she wanted him to know why she was doing this. “I…I love you, Jake.”

  He snorted. “Get to it or get out.”

  Her cheeks pinkened with mortification, but she refused to run. It wasn’t easy undressing in front of him. She kept her eyes lowered, while she fumbled with the knot. He stood watching, waiting like a lone wolf stalking an abandoned calf, certain of the kill.

  When the knot came free, her shirt fell open. She let it slide off her shoulders and onto the floor, revealing the pure white demi-cup pushup bra she’d bought with her babysitting money, which revealed just about everything but her nipples.

  When she lifted her gaze to his face, she was frightened by what she saw. His eyes had a dangerous, feral look, his jaw was clenched tight, and his hands had balled into fists. He looked distant, unapproachable, but she forced herself to walk up to him, to slide her hands around his neck, to lift up on tiptoe to press her lips against his.

  A second later she was shoved up hard against the barn door with Jake’s hips grinding against her own. His tongue was in her mouth taking what he wanted, and she was so full of sharp, exciting sensations that she couldn’t breathe.

  Just as suddenly he backed off, leaving her with Jell-O knees that wanted to buckle, a heart that was threatening to explode and her insides tied up tight, hurting and wanting. “Jake,” she said. It was a cry of emotional pain. A plea for surcease from her unrequited need.

  “I’m twice your age,” he said flatly. “You’re too damn young for me, Hope.”

  “You want me,” she said boldly.

  It would have been hard to deny. His jeans bulged with abundant evidence of his desire. “I’m a grown man. Old enough to know better,” he said with a disgusted sigh. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, but only so he could tuck his shirt back in. He buttoned his shirt, buckled his belt and adjusted his clothes, then leaned down and picked up her sh
irt. “Put this on,” he said.

  She did as she was told. She hadn’t gotten what she’d expected when she’d come in here with Jake. But she’d gotten what she wanted. Proof that he desired her. Proof that if she pushed long enough and hard enough, she might convince him that she was what he needed.

  Her hands were shaking too much for her to tie a knot in the shirttails.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, pushing her hands out of the way.

  Her stomach quivered as his knuckles brushed against her flesh. She glanced up and saw the feral look was back in his eyes. He yanked the knot tight and stepped back.

  “Now get the hell out of here!” he snarled.

  Hope yanked open the barn door and ran.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “RISE AND SHINE, LAZYBONES,” COLT said with a laugh as he pulled the covers off Jenny.

  She rolled over, then sat up and stared. He’d done it again. Brought her breakfast in bed. The first time he’d arrived unannounced it had provided a few awkward moments, since all she’d been wearing was one of Randy’s old T-shirts, the cotton so thin it provided a revealing display of her suddenly peaked nipples.

  That incident had led to the first of a dozen silly gifts Colt had given her over the past two weeks.

  “If you’re really into men’s clothes, I thought you’d appreciate these,” he’d said when he presented her with a pair of navy blue men’s cotton pajamas.

  A set of flower-patterned china cups and saucers had come next. “You need to see something beautiful when you wake up each morning. I’ve got you,” he’d said, making her blush with pleasure, “but I thought you might like these.”

  One morning she’d stepped outside the kitchen door and discovered the entire back porch was lined with hanging baskets of pink and white impatiens. “I owe you some flowers,” he’d said. “For all the times I never brought you any.”

  What he meant, of course, was for all the times Huck had never brought her any.

  While Colt settled the breakfast tray in her lap, Jenny fingered the solitary diamond that hung on a fragile gold chain around her neck. Colt had given her the necklace last night after Randy had gone to bed, when they were alone in the living room.

  “I noticed you’re still wearing Huck’s ring,” he’d said. “But I wanted to give you a diamond. I hope this is all right.”

  After he clasped the necklace around her throat, she’d reached up to touch the dimensions of the stone, to test the fragility of the chain.

  An inexplicable feeling of panic had forced her off the couch and across the room to the fireplace. She’d watched the flames lick at the dry wood they’d gathered together that afternoon and fought the urge to cry.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing her distress. He didn’t follow her. He waited for her to return on her own.

  She twisted the diamond ring on her finger, adjusting it, reminding herself of its presence as she had done for ten long years. Huck’s ring had been the one visible proof that they were engaged, that he intended to come back to her. Now Colt had laid his claim, slipping a chain—a delicate one to be sure—around her neck, when he had no more intention of staying with her than Huck had.

  The hot tears came without warning, filling her eyes and spilling over. Colt crossed to her then, anxious and concerned. He pulled her into his arms, and she felt his lips kissing away the tears as he murmured words of comfort.

  “It doesn’t mean anything, Jenny. I don’t expect you to love me the way you loved Huck,” he said. “It’s just a gift. Something from me to you. Be happy, Jenny. Please.”

  That made her cry all the harder, because it would have been very easy to fall in love with Colt. It was hard not to appreciate a man whose every thought was directed toward making your life easier. But, damn it, she didn’t want to fall in love with another man who intended to leave her behind while he went off to fly jets. Especially not someone who was only taking care of her as a duty to his dead friend.

  A certain ticking clock reminded Jenny that moments like this had to be seized and enjoyed.

  She brushed at Colt’s sideburns, which were already growing out, then eased her thumb across the scar on his chin where the stitches had been removed, unable to stop herself from touching him. “I’m crying because I’m happy, Colt. That’s all.”

  He looked deep into her eyes, searching for the truth.

  It was the truth. At that moment she was happy. She’d learned a long time ago, as the child of a dying mother, to relish every day for the pleasures it brought her. That lesson was standing her in good stead now.

  She saw the lingering doubt in Colt’s eyes and did the only thing she thought might convince him she was pleased with the gift—and with him. She kissed him gently on the mouth.

  She’d had some inkling in advance of how powerful her response might be. Yet, she was surprised again. This kiss was different—more devastating—than the ones that had come before, because there was no guilt to dampen pleasure. This kiss was a celebration of joy, of delight in the man who held her in his arms. Passion rose quickly and flared hot.

  Tentatively, her hands went seeking, feeling the ropey muscles in Colt’s shoulders and sliding down his strong back. His hands weren’t idle, and she gasped as his palm closed on her breast. The sensation was exquisite because it was so unexpected. Huck had touched her breasts many times before, but it had never felt like this. Jenny sought for the difference and found it. There was reverence in Colt’s touch, along with the hunger.

  He’d already eased her shirt off and was reaching for the front clasp of her bra when she suddenly came to her senses and realized what might happen if she took this next step with him.

  “Colt, no.”

  His mouth nuzzled the curve of her breast above her bra, and she nearly swooned before she finally grasped his hand to stop him.

  “Not yet,” she pleaded. “I’m not ready. Not yet.”

  She heard his shuddering breath, felt the tautness in his shoulders as he brought himself back from the brink. He kissed her gently on the mouth, his tongue teasing her lips until she relented and let him come inside.

  To soothe, to taste, to caress.

  It was the kind of kiss they might have shared as teenagers in the back seat of his Mustang, when he knew they couldn’t go all the way. Deep and rich and thorough. It was lovemaking without the sex.

  And she appreciated him all the more for it.

  She heard a moan from deep in his throat, a grating sound of both satisfaction and the need for more, before he finally broke the kiss. When she met Colt’s eyes, she saw that the fire had been banked, but it wouldn’t take much to fan it back into flames. He was leaving the choice up to her. She knew she had to back away, because it was clear he wouldn’t—or couldn’t.

  For a moment last night Jenny had thought about trusting Colt with her secret. Fear had held her back. Once he knew, he would leave for sure. She wanted to hold on to him for as long as she could.

  “Good night, Colt,” she said as she backed away.

  He’d reached down and picked up her shirt, and she’d flushed as she realized she’d forgotten completely about it. He’ given her a lopsided smile and said, “Good night, Jenny. I—” He’d cut himself off, swallowed hard and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  And here he was with breakfast on a tray, fresh from the shower, with eyes that crinkled at the corners with laughter…and her heart on his plate.

  “You’re going to spoil me, Colt,” she said as she held the tray steady and scooted back against the headboard.

  “You deserve a little coddling.” He settled on the edge of the bed by her knees and grabbed a slice of cinnamon raisin toast slathered in butter.

  Jenny picked up a flowered china cup, blew on the steaming coffee, then sipped carefully, grateful for the caffeine. She wasn’t quite sure how to act after what had happened between them last night and decided to let Colt set the tone.

  Colt was trying to act noncha
lant, when that was the last thing he was feeling. He’d been buying Jenny little gifts ever since he’d realized how few of them she’d gotten in her life. He’d given her the diamond last night as a symbol of his love and commitment and as a first step toward asking for that same love and commitment from her.

  The wary look in Jenny’s eyes reminded him not to push too hard or too fast. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. His leave was more than half over, and their wedding day was rapidly approaching. Then he happened to glance at Jenny’s left hand.

  “Where’s Huck’s ring?”

  “I took it off,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

  He watched her reach with her thumb to rub the empty spot where the ring used to be. His chest ached with hope and with fear. Maybe there was a chance for the two of them after all. He opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first.

  “Don’t forget Randy’s graduation ceremony is tonight,” she said. “I promised him we’d go out to dinner first.”

  “I won’t be late.”

  “Randy asked if he could bring a date to dinner,” she said with a smile.

  “Anybody I know?” Colt asked.

  “Faith Butler.”

  Colt’s jaw dropped. “Faith Butler? Not Hope?”

  “Faith,” Jenny repeated with a grin. “I couldn’t believe it myself. Seems they’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

  “Good for Randy. You’ve done a fantastic job raising him, Jenny. A great job raising all of them.” He took a deep breath and plunged. “But it’s time you started thinking of yourself.”

  “What does that mean?” Jenny asked, her eyes cautious.

  “Just what I said. Why don’t you sell this place and come see the world with me?”

  “Colt, you promised—”

  He grabbed the tray from her lap and threw it onto the dresser hard enough to make the china cup and saucer rattle, then turned to confront her. “I can’t leave you here alone, Jenny. I’d worry too much about you.”