by T. L Smith
Throwing my hands up in the air in defeat, I opened the fridge door and studied the meager contents. I was rarely home for dinner, and trips to the grocery store were few and far between.
“Fine, I’ll let you. Dinner?”
“Thank you, and I thought you’d never ask,” Ricky said, but I could sense his hesitation. “You’re not cooking, though. Are you?”
I slammed the fridge door closed and looked at him in mock admonishment. “What the hell is wrong with my cooking?”
Ricky held his hands up in defense. “You’re no momma or nonna, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Fine, big shot. What do you suggest?”
“Come on,” he said, finishing off the wine. “I’ll take you out.”
“This is an offer I can’t refuse.” Raking my fingers through my hair, a pseudo effort in tidying myself up, I headed for the hall.”
“Oh... and I’ve decided I’m going to the wedding also.” Ricky dropped that little tidbit so casually I bet he hoped I didn’t notice.
I certainly did damn well notice.
Spinning around, I faced him head-on.
“Ah... no, you’re not,” I scoffed, but inside my nerves were getting the better of me.
“Someone needs to have your back. Going alone leaves you vulnerable to the wolves.”
“You forget I’m old enough to decide where I want to go, and who I spend my time with.”
“I beg to differ in this situation, little sister.”
“Beg all you like, big brother. Whatever plans you have to babysit me, or gatecrash the wedding, simply aren’t happening.”
“You’re not going alone,” he asserted.
“I’m not going alone,” I replied stubbornly, hand on my hip.
This confession piqued his interest, and a small smile played on his lips.
“Oh yeah,” he said, eyes alight that he would be leaving here with some gossip. “Who is this mystery man?”
My heart began pounding. If I continued down this road, I’d have a lot of explaining to do. If I lied and the truth was shortly discovered, I’d be in even deeper shit. “He’s not a mystery.”
Ricky crossed his arms over his chest. “No? I know him?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? I either know him, or I don’t. Which is it?”
“Okay!” I said, exasperated. “It’s Hawk.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “What’s Hawk?”
“I’m going to the wedding with Hawk?”
“You’re going to the wedding... with Hawk?” His voice slowly rose toward the end of the sentence.
“That’s what I said.”
Ricky considered me for a moment lost in thought. I stood, anxiously waiting for the reprimand, but instead, Ricky smiled, wide and pleased.
“Good,” he exclaimed. “Maybe Hawk can drown Roman in his own piss when he’s there.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad? It’s not like you’re fucking him.”
No... not yet.
I shifted uncomfortably at the direction the conversation was going.
“What do you have against Hawk, anyway?”
“I love the guy. He’s an awesome guy. Doesn’t mean I think he’s worthy of my sister.”
I walked past Ricky and back into the kitchen. Suddenly I’d lost my appetite. “I think you’re being really hard on him. Hawk would move the earth for any one of us Valentinos.”
“And we would do the same for him. But Britta, I know Hawk. I know what he’s like when he has his eyes on something. He zeros in just like a hawk and toys with his prey. He’s no different with women.”
I didn’t want to hear about his other women. The jealous side of me would rear its ugly head. I was unjustifiably jealous. Hawk wasn’t even mine.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” I said, wanting to change the topic.
“Truth is, sis,” Ricky wasn’t relenting, “I hope someday you’ll find someone with Hawk’s qualities. Just not Hawk. Besides what I’ve already mentioned, he’s a good friend, and if anything were to ever go sour with you two it affects us all.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing between Hawk and me. He’s just joining me at the wedding, so I don’t look like a complete knob.”
I couldn’t reveal that the man in question had just molested my mouth. And I certainly couldn’t mention that I had enjoyed every microsecond of it.
“Geez, don’t get so defensive. What’s for dinner? It looks like you’re not planning on going anywhere now.”
I shrugged. “The usual... pizza?”
“You order pizza, and I’ll ring Slate.”
I nodded and placed the order, and then as I waited for Ricky to finish, I replied to a text my mom sent earlier in the morning asking if I was going to join the family for Sunday dinner. My mom especially was still coming to terms with me moving out. It’d become a novelty for her when I re-inhabited my old room after I split with Roman. While I’d been broken-hearted and somewhat embarrassed, I was returning home to my parents, and my mother had rejoiced. I was her only daughter, and she often complained she never saw me. It was true. Not that I wanted it that way. It’d been months already since I found my own place and every week Mom texted to see if I’d join them. Roman had fucked my life up so thoroughly, I’d effectively lost my future husband and my best friend all in one go. Not only that but my sanity, confidence, and trust. He’d been sleeping with Rebekah for months before I found out. It broke me. Shattered my soul.
When my brothers found out, each and every one of them rose to the occasion. They all wanted a piece of him and often created new ways of torture. And then they showed me how empathetic they could be. The day I was barricaded in my room by the four of them, they demanded to know the truth. When I revealed the reason for my constant flow of tears, they brought in mattresses from the spare room, and together we camped out and watched horror movies until the waterworks stopped.
I loved them all, but sometimes, just sometimes, their love was too much.
There was a warning knock on the door before Harry walked in carrying a six-pack of beers.
“Has Ricky laid down the law?” he asked, no doubt referring to the wedding. He placed the beers on the counter, pecked my cheek in greeting, and opened a can.
“Yeah, we’ve talked.” I smiled, not at all interested in discussing Hawk.
I needed a night off from... everything.
“You can burn the invitation.”
Another knock at the door and Harry made his way down the hall.
I started to massage my neck, feeling the tension of the day taking hold.
At the door, I heard a rumble. It was a familiar rumble. One that struck fear in my soul and a throb between my legs. I froze, my eyes looking to Hawk standing on the threshold. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a hoodie, his eyes traveling the length of my body as he followed Harry into the kitchen.
My body betrayed me.
I was instantly turned on, and terrified it showed.
Our gazes locked. He licked his lips, and my heart pounded loudly in my ears. I recalled his kiss, how he tasted of whiskey and all things sweet. How he pushed me hard against the wall. His erection pressing into me.
I ached in places I’d never ached before.
Ricky ended his call with Slate and shook hands with Hawk. His eyes were alight as they flicked between all of us. Words were on the tip of his tongue.
“So...” he begun. “What are you up to this weekend, Hawk?”
I groaned and turned to the fridge in search of more wine.
I could hear the smile in Hawk’s voice before he even started talking. “Crashing a wedding.”
I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips together to hide the smile. It would be just like Hawk to cause a scene, and everyone be in awe of it. He merely walked into a room and mouths dropped.
“How’d you score that gig?” Harry asked. “Britta
was adamant she was going at it alone.”
Hawk turned to me and winked. “You wanna tell them?”
My palms grew sweaty looking at the three men standing in my kitchen. “Hawk’s coming with me because he’s going as my fake fiancé.”
They all continued to stare. Two wearing concerned faces, one trying hard to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Fake fiancé?”
I nodded. “More like cocky fiancé...”
Hawk gave another wink at the reference to his cock.
“Why your fiancé?” Harry wasn’t here for the earlier conversation with Ricky, so he was rightly confused.
“It just slipped out when I was saw Roman on the street the other day. He kind of threw me in the deep end when he asked me to the wedding. It was obviously the last thing I expected, and the lies just snowballed from there. Next thing I know... Hawk’s my fake fiancé.”
“You’re really going to go through with it?” Ricky asked Hawk.
He shrugged. “Would you prefer she go by herself?”
Ricky and Harry shook their heads in agreement. “So, I’ll accompany Britta. End of story.”
There was a knock from down the hall, and Harry, who seemed somewhat displeased by the conversation, went to answer the door.
Ricky, who was the most outspoken remained silent.
“Well...” Hawk began, “... after that bombshell. I’m out.”
He stood to leave as Harry returned with pizza. “You’re going?” Harry asked. “You only just got here.”
“I’ve got other plans tonight,” Hawk said, and the irrational side of me hoped it wasn’t with one of the lingerie models. One who was easy, and who he didn’t have to keep secret. “I’m just here to drop this off.”
Hawk reached into his jean’s pocket and dropped a shimmering gold card on the counter. “It was delivered to the office about thirty minutes after you left.”
I picked up the invitation and studied the cursive text of Roman and Rebekah’s names.
That should have been my name, not Rebekah’s.
That, however, was now just a memory I was keen to forget.
I’d moved on from Roman and his cheating ways.
“Enjoy your weekend, Brit.” His eyes found mine and he was smirking, giving no shits if my brothers saw what was going on between us. “See you Saturday.”
“Yeah, bye,” I returned, realizing I couldn’t wait until I saw him again.
I watched as he shook hands with the boys and headed down the hall.
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” he yelled from the door.
“Okay,” I said but mostly to myself.
“I love you, sis, but you’re an idiot.”
“What?” I asked, still caught up in Hawk’s heady cologne.
“I said, you’re an idiot,” Harry repeated. He most certainly didn’t seem pleased. “Each and every one of us picked up the pieces of you when you split from Roman, and now you’re engaging in celebratory mode with him only to have the emotions of the day possibly dredge up emotions from the past.”
“I’m over Roman,” I said with finality.
“Claiming to be over him and going to his wedding to another woman... yeah, that’s an entirely different thing,” Ricky butted in.
“Why let him think he’s won? He hasn’t won. No matter what he did, he didn’t win.” I sat back and stared at them both, waiting for their next comeback.
“Verdict’s still out on that one. Roman asking you to his wedding less than a year after shattering your heart seems like he’s trying to find another way to hurt you.”
“He can’t hurt me. I’ll be with Hawk.”
Harry sighed. “And there lies problem number two.”
“You guys are really starting to annoy me with the whole ‘steer clear of Hawk’ spiels. The guy has my back, and I’d appreciate it if you two could also.”
“We see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always looked at you.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m a big girl.”
“Britta,” Ricky was all serious. “We’re not mucking around with any of this. We can’t stop you from going to the wedding, but Hawk... he’s a no-go.”
Chapter 8
Hawk
As far as weeks went, this one was long and arduous. With Britta gone, the entire atmosphere was different. Dull and boring. But today she returned. Her voice filtered down the hall, warm and cheery as she greeted her colleagues. Moments later, she walked into my office, her smile bright, skin freshly bronzed. Although she was smiling, her beautiful almond eyes meant business. Closing the door, she sat opposite me and crossed her legs.
I raised my brows in amusement when she remained silent and expectant. “Good morning, Britta,” I began. “How was your leave?”
“Morning, Hawk,” she smiled, and I was reminded for the millionth time how much I missed it. “It was... refreshing and...” Her eyes gave me a subtle once over. Not subtle enough that I don’t notice. “New suit?”
“Yes.”
Her lips pursed together before she responded. “It looks great on you.”
I smiled knowing her palms would be sweaty and her heart would be pounding. That was Britta.
“I’m happy you approve.”
She wiped her palms on her skirt and looked around the room. “Is the AC not working? I’m heating up here.”
I smiled to myself at how predictable she was. Using the controller, I lowered the temperature for her.
“So, what’s on your mind?”
“Game plan,” she said instantly.
“Game plan?”
She nodded. “Tomorrow... we need a game plan.”
I tapped my pen on my desk and watched her, curious. She watched me unfazed, waiting patiently for me to respond.
“Hawk, I need you to be serious right now.”
“I’m deadly serious.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re looking into my soul.”
I didn’t know about her soul, but I would’ve liked a look under the blouse she was wearing.
“I assure you,” I said, dropping my pen on the desk and leaning forward. “I’m being serious. What do you have in mind?”
“I may be over Roman, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want revenge.”
I cocked a brow. “Revenge?”
She nodded, a smile slowly playing on her lips.
“Britta Valentino, what do you have in that mind of yours?”
“I want him to remember what he lost. I want to drive him crazy.”
This time, I nodded slowly, understanding the angle she was coming from.
She paused and waited on the edge of her seat for my response.
“Did Roman ever make you scream, Britta?”
She frowns. “Scream? Yeah, we only fought toward the end, though.”
I bite the corner of my mouth to stop the smile from taking over. “That’s not the type of screaming I mean.”
This time as realization dawned, her eyes grew wide. “That’s... that’s a bizarre question to—”
“I’ll take that as a no then,” I interrupted.
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s written all over your face. A shame. I bet you’re a great screamer.”
“Hawk!” she reprimanded. Her face was flushed, and again she wiped her palms. “I thought we were supposed to be working on our game plan.
“Maybe that is my game plan. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Britta. Wear a nice tight dress and preferably no underwear.”
“Why no underwear?”
This time I smiled. “It’ll drive any guy mad. Now...” I continued before she could interject, “... you have a meeting in five with the Renshaw’s. My driver is already waiting for you.”
She stood, confused and flustered, head filled with a dozen thoughts, her mouth unable to word any. So instead, she nodded and walked out the door. With Britta finally
gone, I took the time to adjust my throbbing cock.
One thing was for sure, Roman wouldn’t be the only man Britta would drive crazy.
THE LIMO PULLED UP outside Britta’s apartment building, and as I rounded the car to open the door, she stepped out of the foyer. I was instantly blown away when I saw her, which hadn’t happened for any other woman I’d dated. She was wearing a strapless, figure-hugging ruby red dress which accentuated her new tan. Her curves were on full, glorious display, her tits peeking over the sweetheart neckline. Her long dark hair cascaded in loose curls over her bare shoulders. She caught me staring and smiled.
“Good morning, Hawk,” she greeted, a twinkle in her eye. Today was her birthday, and today was her ex’s wedding. What an asshole.
“Britta, if we weren’t headed to a wedding, I would tear that dress straight off your body.”
She stopped walking, and I realized I’d said those words out loud. Her face was a mixture of delighted shock.
I corrected myself, my eyes traveling the length of her body once more. “You look stunning, breath-taking, actually.” Behind my back, I pulled a bouquet of flowers out and handed them to her. She gasped and smiled so brightly at me that I wished I had given her more.
Cheekily, she too eyed me up and down. “Hawk Carnage, you’re looking pretty damn handsome yourself. And thank you, especially for remembering.”
“I always remember. But you’re not going to throw them against the wall, are you?”
Britta raised the bouquet over her face, her laughing eyes peering over the top of the roses.
“No, these are far too beautiful.”
Holding open the limo door, she climbed into the back seat, and I slid in after her.
The driver pulled back out onto the road, and I poured some champagne and handed Britta a glass.
“What should we toast to?” she asked.
“To adventure. Game playing, and creating history.”
She smiled, and we clinked glasses.
I watched as she placed the glass to her red lips and sipped at the champagne. Even her lips made my cock twitch.
The things I could do to them...
She lowered the glass and studied me, something weighing on her mind.