His 24-Hour Wife (The Hawke Brothers 2)

by Rachel Bailey

Anna had her notebook and pen already in hand. “Can I quote you on that?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “Any reply?” she asked Callie.

  Callie thought for a moment. It seemed right to say something just as truthful. “There’s no one like Adam Hawke. He makes every day brighter and inspires me.”

  “How does he inspire you?” Anna asked, her hand scribbling as they walked.

  “He’s brave. He sees what he wants and goes after it, no concerns about the risk of failure. It’s one of the reasons Hawke’s Blooms is such a huge success.” She found his ocean-green gaze and smiled. “To have all that enthusiasm and energy and determination beside me every day couldn’t fail to inspire me.”

  They’d reached the roses, and Anna backed away, still making notes as the photographer positioned Callie and Adam in front of a shrub bursting with white blooms.

  Once everyone else was out of earshot, Adam ran a finger under her chin, drawing her gaze up.

  “Did you mean that?” he murmured.

  “About you being inspiring?”

  He nodded. “I can’t always tell when you’re saying things for effect, or exaggerating so people believe the story.”

  “I meant every word.” She cupped the side of his face in her palm, wanting him to understand that among their exaggerations, she was completely serious about this. “You might think it’s a failing that you get carried away by things, but I think it’s one of your strengths. Who else would have committed to this crazy plan and then seen it through?”

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then met her gaze again. “As it turned out, going along with this scheme has been one of my better ideas.”

  Careful not to ruin her makeup for the photos, or to leave a trace of lipstick on him, she reached up and placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

  “Ready?” he whispered.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded and turned to the photographer. “We’re ready. How do you want us to pose?”

  “No need,” the photographer said cheerily. “I got everything I need.”

  She looked from him to a grinning Anna and back again. “When?”

  “While you were talking.” He shrugged, as if that was obvious. “They’re sweet photos. They should come out well.”

  “Right then,” Adam said, straightening. “What next?”

  The photographer picked up his equipment. “We’ll just take a few close-ups of the rings, maybe in the house so I have more control of the light, and we’ll be done.”

  Anna and the photographer headed back to the house, and Adam laced his fingers through Callie’s, a rueful smile dancing around his mouth. “It seems this is getting easier with practice.”

  “Seems so,” she said, but her earlier unease about their relationship returned. Was it easier to pretend to be in love because it was becoming closer to the truth?

  Pushing the thought aside for now, she changed the subject. “Do you mind if we stay a bit longer after these last photos? Since Jenna and Faith are both here, we were thinking it would be a good time to do some more planning for the wedding, as well as the rehearsal dinner and the bachelor-bachelorette party.”

  “Sure,” he said. “There are a few business things I’d like to discuss with Liam and Dylan anyway, so it’s good timing.”

  She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “And after that I’ll take you up on that offer to go straight to your bed.”

  “I’ll make my meetings quick,” he said, deadpan, and she laughed.

  But as they drew closer to the house, she sobered. She was about to plan her wedding to this man, but once that happened, it would be the beginning of the end. As soon as their vows were spoken, they would start planning their separation.

  And every day spent in Adam Hawke’s company, in his bed, made the prospect of that separation more devastating.

  Eight

  By the time they left Liam’s house, Callie was restless with wanting Adam. After the photographer and Anna had left, they were just with Adam’s family, who all believed she and Adam were putting on an act for the camera. And, of course, they had been.

  But then, to keep things simple, they’d pretended for his family not to be involved at all, which was also a lie.

  The truth was in some messy place in between, and couldn’t really be explained to anyone, so they’d spent the afternoon acting more like business associates than two people who were desperate for a chance to be alone together.

  Once in the car, they were silent, but the air vibrated with the tension of all the subterfuge.

  At the first red light, Adam glanced over. The heat in his green eyes was unmistakable, making her skin flush. She swallowed. The light changed, and he accelerated, but no words had been exchanged.

  At the next light, again he glanced over, and this time she reached and out laid a hand on his thigh. A tremor ran through his body.

  “San Juan Capistrano back to LA is not a quick trip,” he said through a tight jaw. “We’re not going to make it if your hand continues on that path.”

  “Are you suggesting we stop somewhere along the way?” The idea of Mr. Cool and Controlled being so overtaken by his passions fascinated her.

  He grimaced. “I’d rather make it back to my place.”

  Grinning, she retracted her hand. “Will that help?”

  “It’s a start.” He blew out a breath. “But we should talk. Tell me about something that’s not dangerous.”

  Something not dangerous? The only topics she could dredge up were all dangerous. She tucked her hair behind her ears and tried again. “What do you want to know?”

  “How about when you were growing up? I know the basic details, but tell me what it was like.”

  She settled back into her seat and thought over her childhood. Then she began to talk. She told him about the school swimming meet where she’d come third in the two-hundred-meter freestyle event, and the year she and Summer had dressed up as dalmatians at Halloween. About the time she’d gotten so addicted to solitaire that she fell behind on her schoolwork, and when her family had traveled to New Mexico for summer break.

  Adam asked questions and laughed in the right places, and some of the tension in the car relaxed. It was nice spending time with just him, where they weren’t pretending to either be in love or not involved at all. Just being.

  However, when they pulled in to his garage and stepped out of the car, the mood changed. Or rather, it adjusted. For the most part, they’d been ignoring the simmering heat between them on the drive home, but now that they’d arrived...

  He took her hand as they walked through the front door and an electric tingle raced from her fingers up her arm to her spine. She’d been waiting for this moment all day.

  As he opened the door, they both stopped. There was a trail of rose petals on the floor, leading from the entryway to the hall to his room.

  “When did you do this?” she asked. He’d been with her since they left this morning, so it wouldn’t have been easy.

  “It wasn’t me,” he said grimly. He glanced around, and found a note propped up on a side table. As he scanned it, he said, “Dylan. He called my housekeeper on her vacation and got her to set it up. It’s a surprise from all the staff at Hawke’s Blooms. Apparently they all wanted to do something for us, and they said it with flowers.”

  She scooped up some of the delicate petals and rubbed them between her fingers. “It’s very sweet of them.”

  He cut her a glance. “It is sweet of them, but we’ve just spent half a day with my brother and he failed to mention it. That part is less sweet.”

  She held the petals to her nose. “They smell divine. Let’s see where they lead.”

  “I think we can guess,” he said wryly.

  No one had ever done anyth
ing like this for her before, and whether they were suffering under a misapprehension or not when they organized it, it was still lovely, and she intended to allow herself to appreciate the indulgence.

  “Let’s follow the trail anyway,” she said and set off down the hall. Sure enough, the petals led straight to Adam’s bedroom, and his comforter was liberally strewn with them, mainly in reds, pinks and whites. There were huge bunches of roses in the same colors in vases around the room and the air was heavy with their rich scent.

  Adam came to stand behind her, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She leaned back into him.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  He stroked a hand down her hair. “No, you’re beautiful.” He kissed the top of her head. “I need a shower. Liam had us standing out in the sun for most of the meeting, going through the rows of his upcoming flowers.”

  Despite knowing his shower would be quick, and he wouldn’t be far away in the attached bathroom, impatience pulled at her. “I’ll be here. Waiting.”

  “Or...” he said, turning her in his arms.

  “Or?” she asked, blinking up at him.

  “Or you could join me.” He tugged on her hand, drawing her into the bathroom with a smile that promised much.

  “That could work, too.” She allowed herself to be led, and when they reached the shower, allowed herself to be undressed. Adam quickly shucked down his own clothes and turned on the water, testing the temperature with a hand. Then he pulled her beneath the spray.

  The warm water was sensual as it poured over her body, but the feel of his slickened skin sliding against hers as he adjusted the water and reached for the soap was better.

  “I can’t imagine why I’ve been showering alone since I moved in.”

  He squirted liquid soap into his hands and began to lather. “You’re always welcome in my shower.” With hands on her shoulders, he turned her and rubbed the lathered soap over her back. “In fact, I encourage it.”

  Strong hands stroked over her shoulders and down her back, curving over her buttocks before starting at the top again. She let out a contented sigh. “Will those be full service like this one?”

  Her earlobe was sucked into the warmth of his mouth, and a shudder raced down her spine. Then his lips were at the shell of her ear. “You haven’t seen full service yet.”

  He turned her again so that she was facing him and squirted more soap into his hands. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he washed every square inch of her, paying special attention to her breasts.

  “I’ve heard these can need more washing than elbows and legs,” he murmured as he soaped up the peaks of her breasts.

  Her blood pumped insistently through her veins. “Your attention to detail does you credit.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” he said, sliding his hands lower, “because I’ve heard a rumor that there’s another part that often needs even more washing.”

  An ache between her legs throbbed, begging for his touch. “I think it’s your duty to investigate.”

  He stepped behind her and pulled her against him with an arm beneath her breasts, while the other hand continued its descent. “Oh, I plan to.”

  When his fingers hit their target, her knees wobbled, but he held her firm. The slow, slick movements were designed to drive her out of her mind, and they were working. She moaned his name, and felt him hardening against her buttocks, but his hand didn’t falter.

  The warm water gently beating down on her skin, Adam at her back, his soaped hand circling and rocking her: it was too much all at once and her release came upon her in a roar of sensation, overtaking her completely then ebbing away, leaving her limp in his arms.

  He held her for long moments, kissing her face, before letting her stand on her own once she was ready. The quick, practical movements of his own cleansing routine were in sharp contrast to the lush strokes he’d used on her, but she still admired the process.

  The water stopped and he patted her down with a thick towel.

  “I could get used to this way of showering,” she said on a happy sigh.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s my nefarious plan. Then you’ll be naked in my shower each morning.”

  Once he was dry, as well, he interlaced their fingers for the few steps back into the bedroom. The curtains were drawn, hiding the magnificent ocean view, but it gave them privacy, which she preferred in that moment. Adam flicked a switch and downlights came on around the edges of the room, creating a magical atmosphere. The rose petals that covered the bed practically sparkled in the light.

  She dropped Adam’s hand and crawled onto the bed, luxuriating in the rich, creamy texture of the petals against her shower-sensitized skin. Eyes closed, she stretched just to feel their caress.

  The mattress dipped, and Adam’s arms came around her. “If that’s your reaction, I’ll make sure this bed is covered in rose petals every night.”

  “You know, I’ve always thought it sounded romantic, but it feels divine, too.” With every movement, the flowers’ scent was released until it surrounded them. “Try it.”

  Adam lay flat on his back, moving his arms above his head as if making a snow angel. “You know what? You’re right.”

  She gathered a handful of petals and sprinkled them over him. “You’ve never done this before? You’re the head of one of the biggest flower companies in the country and you’ve never lain on a carpet of rose petals?”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. “My brothers were always more hands-on with the flowers. Liam with growing them, and Dylan selling them.”

  “Even when you were young? Before you ran the company?”

  He nodded, his gaze on her hand as she let another handful of petals fall over his chest. “My mother and Dylan were the mainstays of the roadside stall, where we started selling the flowers—I don’t know if you noticed, but Dylan can sell anything to anyone. And Liam started helping Dad from a very young age. He was more interested in science and getting the technical details right in growing the best plants.”

  “And you?” she asked softly, feeling as if she was prying, but dying to know what went on in his mind.

  “Me?” He shrugged and pulled her closer. “I had a vision. Right from the start I could see that we had all the ingredients to make it work. Dad could grow anything and Liam could produce new and unusual flowers. Mom had a keen eye for what the customer wanted and Dylan could charm anyone into parting with their money. They just needed someone to dream big for them and turn it into a business plan.”

  She could imagine Adam when he was young, already driven and focused. “You certainly came through on that.”

  “They all came through on their parts, too,” he said, his voice filled with respect and affection.

  She wondered if he had any idea of what he’d really contributed. There were lots of groups and families who had “all the ingredients to make it work,” but that didn’t mean much without someone with business savvy. Someone who could conceptualize an idea then turn it into reality. From the sound of it, Adam had done that partly through sheer force of will.

  One question tugged at her—he’d made it his mission to look after his entire family but who was looking after him?

  “You’re an amazing man, Adam Hawke,” she said, and then reached up to kiss his jawline.

  “Oh, you think so, do you?” In the space of seconds, his tone had changed from serious and reflective to something altogether more wicked. It sent her pulse racing.

  He rolled them over, pinning her beneath him, his gaze mischievous. “How amazing?”

  “Quite,” she teased back.

  One corner of his mouth quirked. “That’s it?”

  She pretended to think about it, which was difficult, given that her breathing had become uneven. “Yes, I think that’s a
bout it. Quite.”

  “What if I do this?” He scooted down and took the tip of her breast into his mouth, tugging gently and swiping with his tongue. The action seemed to tug at the very core of her being, setting every nerve ending alight.

  “That’s good,” she said, though her voice was higher than normal.

  “Good, huh?” He reached over to the box he now kept in his bedside drawer and withdrew a packet. In seconds, he was sheathed and poised above her. “It seems that I’ve gone backward from quite amazing to good.”

  All she could see was him above her as he rested his weight on one forearm. Then she felt his hand come between them, his thumb moving expertly, making her forget any trace of conversation.

  “Still only good?” he asked as first one finger then a second slid inside her, his thumb still the center of her world.

  “Um,” she said. Her skin was hot, so hot. What was he talking about? “Yes?”

  “You were telling me whether I was merely good, or quite amazing, or maybe something more.” He sounded maddeningly patient, but she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against her thigh and knew that his nonchalance had to be costing him.

  “More. You’re more than amazing.” She couldn’t think of any words that meant more than amazing in the moment, so she hoped the intent would be enough to satisfy him.

  His hand disappeared but before she could miss it, he’d parted her thighs wider and was resting his weight on his knees between them. “I think you’re pretty amazing, too,” he said, his ragged voice finally showing how affected he was. Then he slid inside her.

  She arched up to meet him, feeling the perfection of him filling her, stretching her, but still needing more, needing movement.

  “Adam.” It was more of a moan, a plea, than anything, and he seemed to understand, because he began to move, to find the rhythm that suited them both, and she rose to meet each thrust, an ebb and flow that they’d practiced enough now to create naturally.

  Their movements released more fragrance from the rose petals beneath her, and the sound of Adam’s rough breathing near her ear made her heart beat faster. Pressure was building inside her, around her, propelling her higher, the momentum driving her further.