Hawk's Promise

by Nola Cross

  “You know, I thought your burns looked pretty good.” She gestured toward his bandaged appendages and said in a teasing tone, “I could hardly tell you did something so ridiculous yesterday.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Showering by myself was a pretty lame idea.” He chuckled as he remembered fighting his sweatpants for what seemed like hours. It was almost comedic now. Thank God for the wonders of Oxycodone.

  Their gazes met, and her smile slipped. She clasped her hands together and straightened, getting that adorable determined look on her face again.

  “You’re going to want to shower tomorrow before you go to the garage.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” To be honest he hadn’t thought ahead that far, but of course she was right. He’d need to clean himself up some before he saw his employees and customers.

  “I can help you, like we talked about. You know, put baggies on your hands, wash your hair, stuff like that. You can wear your swim trunks or maybe a pair of boxers.”

  “Okay…” He watched as a slow blush climbed her cheeks. His own anatomy stirred with interest as he tried to imagine the two of them, soapy and wet, in the cramped shower stall. “Are you sure you’re up for that, Dez? After—you know—where we left things yesterday?”

  For an instant, indecision flashed in her eyes, then she lifted her chin and stared him down. “I’ve thought a lot about this, Hawk. Just because we might be—uh—attracted to each other doesn’t mean we have to act on it. I’m going to be a real nurse someday soon. Seeing and touching other peoples’ bodies will be part of the job.”

  “Very convincing,” he admitted, stuffing his baser desires back into their dark little hole. It was a good thing one of them had the wherewithal to act like an adult. “And very admirable too. Okay. What the hell. Let’s give it a try.”

  “That’s more like it.” She sent him a tense smile. “Now what about breakfast? Pancakes sound good?”

  * * * *

  After breakfast Desi gathered all the dirty laundry she could find, including the hamper of damp towels in the bathroom. As she lugged it through the kitchen to the laundry room Hawk looked up from the Sunday paper he had spread on the table.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s Sunday. At my house that means laundry day.”

  He came to his feet, a scowl creasing his brow. “I don’t expect you to wash my dirty clothes, Dez.”

  “There are a lot of wet towels in here. You want them to get all moldy?”

  He huffed out a breath, obviously exasperated, and sank back into his chair.

  “Just let me do it, okay? I’ll be washing my own stuff too. I didn’t bring that many outfits with me.”

  After a few seconds he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Makes sense.”

  “Is there a hamper in your room too?”

  He frowned again. “I don’t—”

  “I might as well do it all. After I’m done I thought we might take a drive or something. I bet you’re sick and tired of being cooped up in here.”

  They both glanced toward the small window above the sink, where a steady patter of raindrops had continued all morning. He shrugged. “I guess.”

  “There must be something interesting we can see without getting out of the car.”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess we could try the Point Defiance Park drive. It’s a pretty nice drive even in the rain.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll go right after lunch.” She set the hamper down. “I’m just going to run up and get the stuff out of your room now.”

  She darted for the stairs before he could stop her, and half a minute later she pushed open his bedroom door. She turned on the light and stood for a moment looking around, feeling like a voyeur. In contrast to the small, floral-papered room where she was staying across the hall, this larger one was very plain. Pale blue paint on the walls washed the space in a tranquil color, pierced by slices of watery light coming through the blinds. All the surfaces—bed, corner chair, and dresser top—were free of clutter, almost like an efficiency hotel room awaiting a guest. Or a monk’s chamber.

  Where was Hawk’s personality?

  What was I expecting? Dream catchers and skin drums on the walls? Silly. Maybe this was just the way Walt had left it. Maybe Hawk had been too busy running the garage to make the room any cozier.

  She spotted a rattan hamper in the open closet and went to grab it. Inside the closet, several pairs of worn sports sneakers were piled in one corner next to some dress shoes and a pair of boots. A few white dress shirts and black slacks occupied very little space. Most of the hangers held light gray uniform pants and matching polo shirts with South Bay Classics embroidered on the pockets.

  For a moment she stood in the open doorway and looked back at the sparse room, imagining a bright comforter and a print or two on the walls, something to bring life into the space. If she lived there, she’d replace the straight-backed chair in the corner with something much more comfy, something big enough for two people to—

  Realizing her thoughts were venturing into dangerous territory, she flicked off the light and headed down the stairs. Hawk’s bedroom was his own business. She really needed to remember that.

  * * * *

  Two hours later Desi pulled her Beetle off to one side of the winding roadway through Point Defiance Park, where a break in the rain-drenched firs presented a view across the Puget Sound. The water was flat and gray, like the sky, and out in the mist a ferry plied the waves, heading for one of several nearby islands. She left the car running so the wipers could do their job. The rhythmic swooshing was the only sound for several minutes.

  “We’ll have to come back sometime when the sun’s out. There’s a great beach just ahead,” Hawk said.

  “Maybe we could bring a picnic. That would be fun. But you’d need to be careful about getting sand in your bandages.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” His gaze was fixed on the horizon. “Sometimes it seems like I’ll always have these damn bandages on,” he muttered.

  “I can just imagine how frustrating it must be.”

  Half a minute passed before he straightened and turned to look at her. The filtered light caressed the exotic planes of his cheekbones and brow, setting off that strange rushing sensation again. Did he have any idea how handsome he was with his full, sensual mouth and onyx eyes? Her heart banged against her sternum as he gave her a slow smile.

  “I don’t mean to be such a whiner. These burns are my own damn fault.”

  “It was an accident.”

  He shrugged. “Whichever. I don’t know what I would have done these past three days if you hadn’t come to help out.”

  The sudden declaration and the softened tone of his voice took her by surprise. For so long he’d been so grumpy about her being there, and she’d come to believe that he truly resented her presence. Now she couldn’t look back at him, couldn’t let her gaze get tangled up with his. Unnamed emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

  “I’m happy I could be here for you.” She stiffened her spine, looking straight ahead over the steering wheel.

  “You’re going to make a great nurse.”

  “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

  He gave a low chuckle and shook his head. “Who would have guessed it? Remember those nights you spent at the kitchen table struggling with your math homework?”

  “Oh my God, yes! I thought I would never learn long division. I must have gone through about a dozen boxes of Kleenex before I got it.”

  “Remember how pissed off your dad would get?”

  “But you never lost your patience with me. Not once. You were like the best math tutor ever.” She turned and smiled at him. As she watched, his fond expression slowly morphed into something more intense. Desi gulped in a quick breath.

  “And just look at you now,” he murmured, his gaze caressing her face. “All grown up and ready to set the nursing world on fire.”

  All of a sudden, the small space inside the littl
e car seemed to shrink even further, sucking out the last whiff of oxygen. She was vaguely aware of his left arm mere inches from her thigh, aware of his warm male scent and the rise and fall of his chest. But most of all she was captured by his gaze, those jet-black eyes of his.

  “I’m proud of you, Dez,” he whispered.

  Somehow his face was even closer now and she allowed her body to turn, leaning into him, drawn by the heat of his stare and the slight parting of his firm lips. And then his mouth brushed against hers, gentle, hesitant, as if he might already be regretting the impulse to kiss her.

  Maybe he’s waiting to see if I’ll kiss him back. The thought wafted through her mind and then was gone as she gave a little cry and let her eyes drift closed, pressing her lips to his. He tasted of coffee and the cherry lifesaver she’d fed him earlier. That was the last clear impression she had as a storm of sensations overtook her, stealing her very breath.

  * * * *

  Hawk had promised himself—how many times in the last twenty-four hours?—that he’d keep his primal impulses in check. He had honestly thought he could. And he’d been doing great all morning while they were at home. But he had to admit that limited success was because she hadn’t been in close proximity most of the time. Even at breakfast she hadn’t sat down next to him, but instead stopped to feed him bites of fluffy, blueberry pancakes as she puttered around the kitchen, washing dishes and boiling potatoes and eggs for the salad she planned to make later.

  He managed to keep his eyes to himself most of the time, concentrating on the Sunday paper and ignoring the way her jeans hugged her sweet little ass when she bent over to wipe out the oven.

  But once they got into the VW together it was impossible to ignore the scent of her, warm and powdery, or keep his eyes from drifting left toward the driver’s seat. As long as they were chatting about the sights they saw in the park, he managed to maintain. But then they started down memory lane together, sharing those happy recollections from the time he’d lived with her, and all his best intentions went right out the window. It had taken just one shared smile to break his resolve.

  He groaned now and surrendered himself to the all-consuming need to make her his. Pressing into the seam of her lips, he slid his tongue into her eager mouth as she let her lips go slack. He thrust inside, tasting her, claiming her. When she answered with a kittenish little noise, her response went straight to his groin, making him crazy-aroused.

  He pulled back, his breath ragged. “I want to touch you so bad, Dez.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, her lashes fluttering open. She gazed at him from under heavy lids, desire and trust shining from her gold eyes.

  “God!” he ground out. He kissed her again, his mouth savage.

  The gear knob on the console between them poked him in the ribs, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get closer. He longed to feel the lush curves of her body against him. Shifting a little, he skimmed one paw up her arm and into the wealth of her hair, imagining he could run his fingers through the silky waves. He wanted to grip her there and hold her still while his mouth had its fill of her. His groin tightened further at the idea, his breath quickening.

  But then several ebony strands became stuck to the adhesive in his bandage.

  “Ouch!” She pulled back, wincing.

  “Sorry. Sorry.” He tried to extricate his hand.

  “I’ll get it.”

  It was the first time she’d ever spoken to him in a sharp tone, and it stung a little. He held still as she worked to free the strands of hair. After a minute or so they came loose.

  He leaned away, holding his hands up and glowering at them. “That didn’t go at all the way I’d planned.”

  She sighed and stared into her lap. “No.”

  “Probably best that it didn’t.”

  “We could try again.” She peeked in his direction.

  He turned to study her, looking into her wide, hopeful eyes. Her cheeks were rosy, her perfect lips already swollen from their kiss. Her innocent eagerness was obvious.

  Reality smacked him hard. She’s a virgin, inexperienced. She doesn’t even understand all the implications of me wanting to touch her.

  The truth was, if not for his bandaged hands, he’d have made love to her yesterday after that first kiss, and several times since then. He would have taken full advantage of her sweet willingness once she admitted she no longer saw him as a brother. Would it have been fair to use her, knowing she expected more than he was willing to give? No, of course not. But he was that much of a despicable dog.

  A pang of self-loathing curled through his gut.

  In a way, his burns were a blessing. They were keeping him from making a huge mistake right about now. Maybe the worst mistake of his life. If he took advantage of Desi—that special girl he’d been watching over for so many years—he’d never find a way to forgive himself. That would make him no better than the biological father who’d fucked his mother, gotten her pregnant, and then taken a powder.

  He needed to get a grip on this once and for all.

  “What would Dovie say?” He forced the words out, knowing their effect would be the splash of cold water they both needed.

  Desi gasped and her eyes widened. “Dovie? Why, she…”

  “She what, Dez? She taught you it was just fine to give it away to the first guy who said he wanted you?”

  “No! Of course not. But you’re not just some guy, Hawk. She adored you. I think she would have been fine with us…you know.” Her cheeks reddened.

  “You think so? Even though my intentions are far from honorable?”

  “Wh—what do you mean?”

  He made his voice rougher. Harsher. Forced himself to do what he knew he had to do. “I told you the other day, I’m not looking for a romantic relationship. No ties. No promises.”

  “I know that,” she said in a small voice. “That would be okay with me.”

  “Oh, really? You’re ready to stop being friends and be that girl I screw sometimes whenever I happen to be in Portland? ’Cause that’s all I’m offering here if we cross this line.”

  She stared at him for maybe five seconds, unspoken emotions in her amber eyes. Then she turned the key in the ignition and drove them home without a word.

  Chapter 12

  It was Monday morning and Sarah Markham, RN, was righteously pissed.

  “What in the good Lord’s name am I looking at here?” She stared down at Hawk’s palm as she cut the gauze away. “What happened here, sugah?”

  “I, uh, took a shower on my own Saturday.”

  “What? Why? I’m gone one day and you go and do something foolish.”

  “Yeah.” Hawk hung his head. There wasn’t any defense.

  She removed the rest of his bandages, all the while making small tsking noises under her breath. Then she examined every inch of his hands.

  “I think you’ve set your healin’ back at least two days here. And just when things were lookin’ so good too. You’ll be lucky if you didn’t start an infection.”

  Just then Desi came down the stairs and found them in the living room. Hawk tried not to stare, but the little pair of bright red shorts she was wearing drew his gaze like a magnet. Her legs were smooth and golden and well-muscled. He tried to remember if she’d ever mentioned having a gym membership. Then he realized she must be dressed that way in preparation for the shower they’d planned for that morning. He still had his doubts they could pull off that operation, but being harsh with her in the car yesterday had at least had the desired effect of keeping some emotional distance between them.

  “Nurse Sarah! I didn’t hear you knock,” Desi said, sending the older woman a warm smile.

  “Good morning, Miss Desiree.” She gave a deep, offended sniff. “I was just telling your man here that he doesn’t have any more sense than a goat.”

  Desi crinkled her nose. “I know. It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

  Things had still been tense between them last night, and she
hadn’t spoken to him as she’d done his bandage change. She’d been extra economical with her movements too, touching him no more than she absolutely had to in the process.

  That’s what I was going for, right? To keep her at a distance.

  Their eyes met now, then she looked away, and he felt her censure even more than Sarah’s. Her disapproval hurt, but maybe that’s how it needed to be to keep her safe.

  “If this doesn’t start looking better by tomorrow, I’m going to have to refer you back to the burn unit at the hospital,” Sarah scolded.

  “I already have an appointment with a doctor tomorrow,” he said.

  “A specialist?” She peered over the rims of her glasses as if she didn’t know whether to believe him.

  “I guess so. Dr. Hunter is his name.”

  “Oh.” She nodded and seemed to relax a little. “He’s good. You’ll like him. No doubt he’ll have some new orders for me for the next couple of weeks.”

  Shit. Two weeks. All he wanted was to get better and get back to work. Get Desiree out of his house before he did something stupid.

  “I promise you, no more unassisted showers,” he assured the nurse.

  How the hell was he going to survive keeping that brash vow?

  But half an hour later he stood in the shower stall with warm water sluicing down his body. Both hands were encased in plastic bags, secured at the wrists with rubber bands. And all he wore was the pair of boxers Desi had made him put on before she turned the water on. After he managed to get into them, she had joined him in the shower stall, wearing those red shorts and a yellow t-shirt.

  At the moment, she stood behind him, using some kind of puffy thing to scrub his back with an herb-scented shower gel. He was usually a Dial soap fan, but he had to admit the gel added a certain ambiance to the experience. And having someone there washing his back was a new and stimulating sensation.

  So far today he’d been able to keep his libido under control, but that didn’t stop random erotic fantasies from flitting through his head every few minutes.

  “Lift your arms,” she ordered, her tone all business. She was still out of sight behind him.