by Kat Mizera
“Whatever you need, just ask. Don’t ever be afraid to ask me for something, Mad. What good is all this money I make if I can’t use it to make the people I love happy?”
“You have a mortgage, a family… It’s not your job to support me.”
“I’m not supporting you—I’m helping you achieve a goal. It’s not like you sit on the couch all day and ask for beer money or something.”
She smiled, remembering what Garrett had said. “Someone else actually said that same thing.”
“Sounds like your vacation hook-up is a smart guy.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“Have fun, kiddo. Just promise you’ll be safe.”
“Always.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” She hung up and turned to see Garrett standing in the doorway.
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I was checking to see how much longer you need to get ready.”
“I was talking to my brother.”
“I know.”
Their eyes met for a moment before she headed towards the bathroom. “Fifteen minutes. I need to dry my hair and put on a little makeup.”
“Wear the black dress,” he said softly.
She hesitated. “Where are we going?”
“Little gastropub in town.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Fifteen minutes.”
When she came out of her room wearing the black dress and high, strappy heels, Hawk wasn’t sure they would get out of the house. He’d had a lot of women in his day, but not a single one had ever affected him the way Madison Teller did. He wanted to be a gentleman and focus on something other than how beautiful she was, how much he wanted to be with her, inside her, all over her…but they only had two more days and he didn’t think that would be even close to enough of her.
“You look beautiful,” he said, reaching out to bring her hand to his lips.
A faint flush covered her cheeks as she smiled up at him. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He’d only brought casual clothes with him on this trip, but knowing she was going to wear that dress tonight, he’d put in a call to Clay and found dress pants, a button-down shirt, socks and dress shoes hanging in a plastic bag in his closet when they’d gotten home from the beach. He rarely used his impressive salary to indulge in things like this, but today he’d been eternally grateful for the luxuries it afforded him.
He took her hand and they walked out to his SUV. He opened the door for her and smiled at her look of surprise, wondering if the guys she’d dated in the past hadn’t been gentlemen.
“Why is a beautiful woman like you single?” he asked after a moment. “Your brother must have some nice friends, no?”
She laughed. “He doesn’t want me to meet his teammates! He says hockey players are dogs and there’s a really high divorce rate in professional sports. They’re gone a lot, there’s a lot of opportunity to cheat… I don’t know, he’s always kept his buddies away from me.”
“I get it!” he laughed. “Brothers always want to protect their sisters.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a grown woman, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” His eyes traveled the length of her body before turning back to the road.
“Why are you single?” she countered. “I mean, you’re good-looking and rich. There must be tons of women out in L.A. vying for your affection.”
“I’m not actually in L.A. anymore,” he said slowly. “My parents moved the business to Naples a few years back.”
“You live here now?”
“No. I’m in limbo now.”
She eyed him. “Because of your shit-storm life?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you must live somewhere?”
“I do, but not full-time and it might change again in the near future.”
“Okay.” She reached out to squeeze his hand. “I don’t care if you tell me your secrets, but sometimes it’s good to get it off your chest. Especially to someone who’s not involved.”
You’re more involved than you think, he thought miserably. “Yeah, well, it’s not always that simple,” he said aloud.
She let it go so it wouldn’t ruin their evening and they chatted casually the rest of the drive and all through dinner. The food was wonderful, the company was even better and by the time they left she couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. How had she grown so attached to a stranger after just a few days? It seemed illogical and she hated that.
“What are you thinking about with such a frown on your face?” he asked, startling her back to the present.
“That my feet are starting to hurt in these heels,” she lied with a flirty smile.
“How about we drive down to Pleasure Pointe Beach and go for a walk? We can enjoy the last of the daylight and you can take those heels off.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“You’re thinking again,” he said once they were in the car. “Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I’m wondering what my brother would think of you.”
Hawk’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He couldn’t even imagine what Jamie thought of him right now. “He’d probably take one look and tell you to run.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’d never be that shallow! I think you two would get along great.”
They had gotten along pretty well, Hawk reflected. Jamie hadn’t been in Ottawa long; first because of a concussion that kept him out for two months and then the attack in late January. He hadn’t come back from that and he’d actually been traded back to his previous team in Las Vegas, the Sidewinders, so Hawk hadn’t seen him since he’d visited him in the hospital back in February. He’d still been in rough shape but he’d laughed and joked, his usual upbeat self, and Hawk had a hell of a lot of respect for him. As much as he regretted that he was going to have to walk away from Maddie without even giving them a chance, he regretted what Jamie probably thought of him now even more. Breaking a woman’s heart was one thing; being a terrible human being was another level of hell.
“Now who’s thinking?” she teased. “Come on, lighten up. Whenever you start thinking about your situation, your eyes get all squinty and a vein in your neck starts to throb. I’m not asking any more questions. All I want right now is for this really hot guy I know to take me for a walk on the beach.”
He smiled without looking at her. “I can do that.”
Pleasure Pointe was rockier than Barefoot Bay, but still beautiful, with pristine waters and a gorgeous shoreline. As the sun got lower in the sky, they walked hand in hand along the water’s edge, tiny whitecaps crawling up over their feet as the tide started to come in. The wind was blowing her hair back away from her face and he leaned over to kiss her, tasting the last remnant of the wine they’d had at dinner mixed with the salt water in the air. Her lips were soft, yielding to his without hesitation, making him yearn to be back at the villa with her. She would be his tonight, he knew this without a doubt, but he was savoring every moment. He refused to rush towards the main event because their limited time together was a main event in and of itself.
When he finally broke away he took her hand again and pulled her along. There wasn’t much light left and he wanted to start heading back.
“I love the ocean,” she sighed. “Not just because I swim, but because it calls to me. Someday, I want to live on a beach like this… Maybe even here on Mimosa Key. I really like it here.”
“With a tattooed mechanic and a bunch of little mechanics?” He wasn’t sure why he said it but it felt so natural to flirt, as if this was a real relationship.
“Not a bunch,” she giggled. “Maybe two.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Eventually. They scare me a little right now.”
“Me too!” he admitted. “I can barely take care of myself half the time—how the hell would I be able to take care of this helpless little baby?”
“That’s how I feel too. I mean, I
can change a diaper and rock them to sleep and whatever, but the big stuff—school clothes and braces and college—I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I always figured I’d make the money and their mom—my wife—would do that kind of thing. Now that I’m older, though, I realize there’s a lot more to being a dad than bringing home the paycheck. I was seven when my dad died, but I remember his bear hugs, his laugh… I want my kids to remember things like that about me.”
She smiled. “That’s what I’m talking about! You have an idea about your future… This is probably a big part of the reason I’m single. I meet guys that are nice enough, are somewhat interesting or whatever, but they don’t…engage in the important ways. I’m not talking about immediately having a conversation about kids—I’m talking about a conceptualization of the future. It’s like this unknown entity they can’t even fathom unless it’s career-related. I’m not ready for kids, at all, but I can think about them. I know that when I have them I want them to have a father. Not just a sperm donor or a guy who pays the bills, but someone who’s involved in raising them. Yet a lot of guys I meet get a strange look like they have no idea what I’m talking about.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just weird.”
He looped his arm around her neck and drew her up against his side. “That’s the best speech about dating I’ve ever heard. I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. Once you get to a point where it’s at least a little bit serious, you should be cognizant of what you want as a couple, including the type of parents you want to be. I don’t know exactly what I want in that regard, but I know I’d like to be more like my dad.”
“What about your stepdad?”
He grunted. “He falls into the category of the guy who just pays the bills.”
“Did he and your mom have kids together?”
He shook his head. “No. He has a son from his first marriage and he adopted Lucy and me, but we don’t really get along.”
“Well at least you know what kind of parent you don’t want to be,” she pointed out.
“This is very true.”
“So you fought with your parents, left them and wound up at the Hotel from Hell?”
He chuckled. “My plan was to just drive around until I wasn’t pissed anymore, but I was hungry, my phone died and that’s where I ended up.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“It can be. Guys are different, I think. I mean, I’d like to be closer to my parents but it is what it is. I have a pretty good life most of the time and don’t sweat it. Like you said, it’s a lesson in what I don’t want for myself when the time comes to settle down.”
“My family is wonderful,” she admitted. “My parents are still together, totally in love, and pretty supportive of anything we kids want to do. My younger brother is a little self-absorbed right now with his career and girlfriend, but he’d be there for me in a heartbeat if I needed him. And of course Jamie is my favorite person in the whole world. I can’t imagine what I would have done if I’d lost him…”
“I’m really glad you didn’t,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her face.
Chapter 6
They got back to the villa just after ten and sank onto the couch together, hands linked between them. If it had been up to the Hawk part of Garrett, she’d already be naked and bent over the back of the couch, but that wasn’t what he wanted with Maddie. She’d been a little quiet on the drive home and he sensed she was nervous. Despite her proclamations that she was okay with vacation sex, now that the moment was upon them she’d retreated emotionally. He was okay with that, but he didn’t want it to be awkward either. If she wasn’t comfortable, he wasn’t interested, and making her happy these next couple of days was all he cared about. Sex was easy; a mating of spirits was much more complicated.
“You’re quiet,” he said, lifting her hand and bringing it to his chest. “Something tells me you’re having second thoughts.”
“No.” She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. “I just don’t want to have sex with the wrong man.”
“Huh?” He wasn’t sure what she meant.
“You promised me Garrett is your real name, but it’s not Garrett Raven, so who am I having sex with tonight? Garrett Raven, who doesn’t exist, or Garrett X, who’s supposedly a jerk that’s going to hurt me.”
He sighed, letting his fingers trail down her face and onto her shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to say because there was no easy answer to that. Garrett Raven didn’t exist—it was a name he used so people couldn’t find him when he stayed at hotels—but Hawk Hawkins meant nothing to her. “I’m just Garrett,” he whispered. “Who I am the rest of the time doesn’t matter for two more days.”
“Why won’t you tell me? Whatever you did, I won’t judge you. It won’t change anything.”
He laughed but it was without humor. “Honey, what if I admitted I’d killed someone? What if I said that in a fit of rage, I stabbed my stepfather and the police were looking for me. How would you feel?”
“I wouldn’t believe it,” she responded automatically. “I don’t know what kind of man you are to the outside world, but I already know who you are in here.” She touched his chest. “The man who threw himself on top of a stranger while bullets were flying isn’t a cold-blooded killer. The man who offered to leave his super expensive villa because the broke woman he so kindly offered to share it with was uncomfortable doesn’t have an ugly soul. The tattooed man with a mohawk who understands why a secretary from Toronto needs to compete in a triathlon isn’t evil. That guy isn’t my Garrett. I don’t believe it—I won’t.”
He closed his eyes and pulled her into his arms, willing himself not to let his beautiful sea nymph dig her way from under his skin—where she was already firmly settled—and work her way straight into his heart. “Baby, if circumstances were different, I’d take you home with me and never let you go.”
“Where’s home?” she whispered against his ear. “Tell me where you’d take me.”
“One of my homes is in L.A.,” he whispered back. “I don’t live in it right now because, like I told you, I’m in limbo, but I own it. It’s rented until June, and then they’re moving, so that’s where we’d go. You’d love L.A. It’s near the beach and we could swim every morning, bike in the afternoons and run late in the day when it’s not so hot. I’d make love to you on my California king with all the windows open, stroking you in time to the waves crashing onto the shore. We’d run marathons together and invite friends over for dinner on the wrap-around deck. Then I’d give you two perfect little baby mechanics to take care of for me while I was out making a living, but I’d come home and love all three of you so hard you’d forget about the times I had to be away for work.”
She stared up at him in awe, her eyes wide and a little watery. She traced a finger along his perfectly chiseled chin and up around his cheekbones. She let her hand linger on his face, never breaking his gaze, as she studied his full lips and the faint stubble that had started to grow in. Without a word, she rose to her knees and straddled him, lifting her dress so it floated around their legs. He let one hand drift around to cup her backside but he was otherwise still, watching her as she touched every inch of his face, his throat, the side of his head. She used her fingernails to scrape against the grain of the closely cropped hair along both sides, so the short pieces brushed against the pads of her fingers. It was soft and she couldn’t resist moving up to the long hair that went down the middle of his skull. This piece probably hung down about four or five inches, and he’d slicked it back tonight so that it looked almost like a regular haircut.
She dug her fingers in it, rubbing until the gel he’d used gave up its hold and a piece fell over his forehead. Then she lowered her face to his and kissed him. When he tried to move she shook her head.
“No,” she whispered. “Let me love you. Let me love you so hard you forget about what horrible thing you did and only remember Garrett—my Garrett.”
/> He moaned as he let his head fall back. She was trailing her lips across his Adam’s apple, lightly nipping the skin at his throat, her fingers working the buttons of his shirt. She paused, needing to focus on the buttonholes so she could get to that wonderful skin beneath. Finally, his shirt was open and she placed her palm on his warm, rippled stomach. Without thinking, she bent her head so she could run her lips across it. She let her tongue glide across his skin, the salty taste making her want more.
“Baby…” His voice was hoarse with longing, the erection tenting his slacks belying his reluctance to let her stay in control.
“Not yet.” She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and indulged in the first fantasy she’d had about him: Exploring every one of his tattoos with her tongue. She wanted to—needed to—and wouldn’t stop until she had. “How many are there?”
“Tats?” he looked surprised. “Uh, 17?”
She laughed. “You don’t know?”
“There’s a few.”
“Where are the ones I can’t see?”
“Won’t it be more fun for you to discover them on your own?”
She smiled. “Get undressed.”
He smiled back and gently pushed her off to the side so he could take off his slacks. Standing there in his boxers, he held out his hand to her. “The first time isn’t going to be on the couch.”
She got to her feet and he hauled her against his chest.
“Take off the dress,” he whispered.
“I’m supposed to be in charge,” she whispered back.
“You are. But if I have to be in my undies, so do you.”
She flushed but slowly pulled the dress up over her head. He took it from her and paused to hold it against his face, inhaling deeply. “I love how you smell.”
“My dress probably smells like deodorant and salt water.”
“And you,” he murmured, letting the silky black fabric drop to the ground. “You smell yummy, like a tropical cocktail with coconut.”