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Hawk

Page 12

by Tiya Rayne


  Before I can lose myself and moan, he moves on to my thighs to run back up to my hip. He moves his fingers around me to trace the few strings that attach the back of the piece to the front. When his fingers find that one very last string that will soon disappear to the promised land, I have to look away from those eyes.

  I take a step back, feeling as if we’ve done something entirely too intimate in front of a stranger. Neither of us are naked, but for some reason, I feel like I might have exposed my body to him. Like his hands have seen me naked. Never have I been so thoroughly touched.

  Chloe clears her throat, and when I look over to her, her face is a bright red. “I think he likes it,” she says with a blush. I guess it wasn’t only me. “Should we try on the other lingerie pieces?”

  “No,” Walker says, turning to Chloe. “She will take them all.”

  Okay.

  He returns to his seat and I’m ushered into the dressing room with eight garment bags. There are enough clothes on those racks to last me at least three weeks without re-wearing anything.

  “Oh, fuck no, Albany.”

  My words are shouted as I stare at the hot mess my sister has me wearing now. The lingerie gets a pass because let’s face it, I’ve been celibate for a few years. No one is going to see the delicate material, but this dress.

  Is she serious? The dress is long-sleeved and so skin tight that if I ate a grape you would be able to see it. The deep plunging V cuts so low it stops right at my belly button and then it has the audacity to have see-through lace sides. I can’t even wear underwear in this thing. I don’t care that it too is in my favorite color.

  I step from behind the curtain and hold my hands out at my sides and stare at Walker who only smiles at me.

  “Do you see this shit?”

  He barks out a laugh. “I don’t see the problem.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I look like a prostitute.”

  “A high-end one,” Chloe adds and I roll my eyes at her.

  “Where am I going to wear this?”

  Walker lifts a shoulder briefly. “She’ll tell you,” he replies in that calm way that he does.

  I toss my hands up and let them drop back down. Albany said he was laid-back, but I never expected him to be this damn relaxed. Everyone around me is crazy if they think I will wear this dress anywhere.

  I march back into the dressing room. The other garments aren’t as bad as the first dress. Amongst the everyday clothes of tops and jeans, there is also an elegant gold formal dress, along with a business suit with a high waist pencil skirt and a silk peach blouse. Apparently, my sister dressed me for three very distinct occasions.

  Chloe wraps everything and gives me a hug. She gets paid off commission and when she rattled off the total to everything for the day I almost choked. My sister was clearly more successful than me.

  When we finally go to leave the place, I’m loaded down with bags of clothes and shoes and a pair of diamond-studded earrings. As we turn to exit the store a woman steps in front of me.

  “Hello,” she says with a smile.

  She’s a tall Latina beauty with golden skin, long brown hair with blonde highlights and caramel colored eyes. She looks young in the face, but her voice and the way she carries herself tells me she’s much older. I can also tell by the way the diamonds in the ring on her finger are about to blind me, she’s rich.

  “Hey,” I say hesitantly.

  “I just wanted to tell you I love the color of your hair. I wanted to go a little lighter with mine, but I’m so afraid it will turn out wrong.” She has a slight accent.

  I relax a little. “Oh, you should try it. It’s a long process to get the color right and the upkeeps a bitch, but it’s worth it.”

  The woman laughs and it sounds like bells tinkling. “Maybe I will. It was nice to meet you,” she says, and with a flick of her hair, she walks off.

  “Wow,” Chloe says beside us. “She hardly speaks to anyone, and she never gives compliments.”

  I turn my head to the side—like I’ve seen Walker do. “Who is she?”

  “Her names Gabriella,” Chloe whispers as if it’s some kind of top secret. “She’s only been coming here about a month. I think her husband is some kind of senator or something. She’s crazy rich and has a home out in Alpine.”

  I’ve heard of Alpine, it’s one of those places in New Jersey that only the wealthy can afford. Celebrities buy their homes up there and rub shoulders with doctors and politicians. No wonder she came in here looking like money and dripping with diamonds.

  “Her and her husband are always throwing elaborate parties out at their estate,” Chloe continues to say. “I’ve heard her parties are filled with celebrities.”

  I only smile at Chloe’s wonderment. She finally says goodbye and Walker and I step outside. It’s then that I realize a problem.

  “Where am I supposed to go with all these damn bags?” I say, pointing to the many bags in Walker’s hands.

  We swap, he’s carrying my shopping bags while I carry his weapons duffle and my backpack. Before he replies a car pulls up to the curb. The passenger window rolls down.

  “Are you Brooklyn Walker?”

  Both Walker and I turn to each other.

  “I’m Brooklyn,” I say. I don’t know anything about that Walker shit.

  The driver opens his door and steps out. He comes around to the rear of the car and pops the trunk. He’s average height, bald, with a beer gut and a warm, friendly smile.

  “I’m Steven,” he says by way of introduction as he walks over to us.

  “Did someone call for you?” Walker asks the question I’m about to ask.

  “Chloe Daniels. It was scheduled yesterday. I’m taking you to the hotel.”

  “Hotel?” I repeat.

  “Yeah. Oh, that’s right, this is supposed to be a surprise,” he says scrubbing a hand over his face.

  “Can you at least tell me the address to the hotel?” I ask the question even though I’m sure I know the answer to it.

  “88th and West Ave.”

  I reach into my backpack and pull out the little book to verify what I already know. I show the page to Walker.

  “It’s the second address,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t reply. Instead, he hands my shopping bags to Steven before taking his duffle and helping me climb into the awaiting car. Once I’m inside, he scoots in beside me, tosses the bag to the floor and closes the door.

  “This is starting to freak me out,” I admit. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and plants a kiss on my temple. Steven climbs back into the car.

  “When the store called and said you showed up earlier than they had planned, I thought I was going to be late getting to you.” His New York accent is stronger than mine. He looks through the rearview mirror to glance back at us. “How’s life treating you newlyweds?”

  Newlyweds. Okay, now Albany is just being messy.

  “Fantastic,” Walker replies as he pulls me in for another kiss to my forehead.

  Steven smiles through the rearview mirror before turning his attention back on the road.

  “I think you’re taking this role a bit too seriously,” I say, trying to pull away from him. He, of course, holds onto me tightly.

  “Who says I’m playing?” He smirks.

  “Don’t play with me. And where do you get off touching me like that in the store? What if I had a boyfriend, did you think about that? How do you think he would feel with you touching me like that?”

  Walker gives me an amused look. “You don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “You don’t know that.” What is he trying to say? I don’t have a man by choice. If I wanted one, I could have one.

  “I do. You want to know how I know it?” I nod and he continues. “Because I haven’t killed him.”

  I gasp at the bluntness of his cruel words. I completely ignore the joyful ripple they cause to shoot low in my belly.

  “Does that usually work for you? You offer to
kill your competition for your woman, and she falls all over you.” Though my tone is sarcastic, I’m asking a legit question because that shit was kind of sexy.

  “I only say what I mean, and I’ll only kill for you.” He gives another one of his head kisses.

  At this, I laugh, and he joins in with me. He knows that’s utter bullshit. He plays with my fingers locked between his.

  I stare down at his scarred, tanned fingers, rubbing the back of my brown hand. Why do I find so much comfort with this man? Even now as he so casually talks about killing someone, I’m not afraid of him.

  This isn’t smart. Eventually, this little thing will end. Walker will go back to the world that he knows, and I will be sent back to my reality. I need to remember this.

  “What about you? What would your lady friend think of all this?” I ask only half teasing, turning away from the vision of our locked hands.

  He places a finger under my chin and turns my head back to him. “I never said there was a woman.”

  When did his lips get so close to mine? Those flutters take flight again and this time I can’t call them little anymore. They are far from little.

  That small amount of hope fills me at his words. Is Walker single? Has he been flirting with me all this time?

  Just as fast as those hopeful questions appear, they fade. It doesn’t matter that he is single, or that he makes me feel comfortable and safe. Or the fact that these flutters that I thought were dead, burned, and buried have suddenly come back to life with him. He—despite what he hasn’t admitted to—belonged to my sister. Even if for a little while.

  “Do you always do that? Kick a girl to the curb when you find a new one?” My words are meant to be as hurtful as the pain that registers in his eyes.

  I need to factory reset this relationship. I can’t risk my sanity for him. Even if my accusations are false and he never had a sexual relationship with Albany, I don’t do well with relationships.

  When it comes to love and relationships, I fucking suck at them. There is no doubt that in the end, I’m going to send him running—like I did with every other man I cared about. Might as well send him away now, that way I won’t get hurt.

  Walker removes his hand from around my shoulder and sits back. I’ll admit, I miss his touch. Since we first met, he has touched me in some way. Mostly when he’s holding my hand, but having him pull away from me feels like I’m depriving myself.

  It’s for the best, Brooklyn.

  “I’m sorry,” I admit to feeling like shit for hurting him. I don’t want to lead him on, but I don’t have to be a bitch.

  He shakes his head. “I cannot change the fact that I knew your sister first, but I also will not allow you to continue to make me a villain in the situation just because you’re too afraid to try.”

  Okay, ouch! He went for the jugular with that.

  That damn canvas pops up in my head again. The one with Albany on my bed. I can see every detail of the picture.

  The face Albany made as I told her that no man was going to stick around long enough to tear down my walls recreates right in my head. Her face went still as she glared at me. She was pissed. She hadn’t looked that angry at me since that day I told her I believed it when my foster mother told me I wasn’t as pretty or as smart as Albany.

  She sat up on the bed, her gaze locked with mine as she proclaimed. “The right man will come with his sledgehammer in hand and show you how much you are valued. You just have to trust him. One day, you will walk by faith, and not by sight.”

  The paintbrush drops as the canvas sizzles away, leaving me with that gaping hole in my heart from the reminder of my sister. I guess that special man is going to need more than a sledgehammer.

  The rest of the ride to our second address is done in silence. And although Walker is sitting right next to me with his leg touching mine, he still feels a million miles away.

  Chapter 11

  Newlyweds

  Brooklyn

  When the car finally stops and the driver opens Walker’s door a gasp catches in my throat. We are parked in front of the St. Regis hotel. Once again that feeling comes over me that my sister knew she was going to die.

  Walker steps out of the town car and holds his hand out for me to take. I make sure to grab my backpack and his duffle bag before I place my hand in his and slide out of the car. The driver pops the trunk and a bellman comes out to the car to help with our bags.

  “When we were kids,” I say, taking in the sights of the busy Manhattan area. “Albany and I watched the movie Home Alone 2. The kid on there had conned his way into staying at the Plaza hotel. I remember telling Albany that I was going to do that. One day, I would stay at one of the fancy hotels in Manhattan.” I let the memory fade. “She granted my wish,” I say to myself.

  Walker takes the backpack and duffle bag out of my hands. “Come on.”

  We walk through the heavy revolving doors of the fancy hotel. We walk into the foyer and my mouth drops open. The marble floors are so shiny I can see my reflection in them.

  To my right is the counter to check-in. The beautiful mural on the ceiling has me spinning in circles, looking up at it. The chandelier is made of crystal with gold accents. I’m in awe of this place.

  “Can I help you?” The man at the counter says, bringing my attention back to the present.

  “We have reservations under Brooklyn.” Walker pauses for a moment. “Brooklyn Walker.” The fancy dressed man at the counter looks to me and then back to Walker. He starts typing on his computer. I can tell the moment he finds us because a smile spreads over his face.

  “Oh, I have you, Mr. and Mrs. Walker. Congratulations on your nuptials.”

  I blush and look down at my bare finger still clasped in Walker’s hand. The man at the counter continues to type and add things on his computer. “I see you guys are with us for three weeks. Do you want the cost to go on the credit card on file?”

  “Yes.” I don’t know what credit card is on file, but from what I’ve experienced so far from my sister, she has enough to cover it.

  “All right, I’ll have your key ready in just a minute.”

  While the man busies himself with getting our key for the room, I take my time to look at Walker. He’s still angry with me. Even though he’s holding my hand, I can tell he’s still pulling away from me.

  My common sense says this is good. This is what I need him to do. Yet that little piece of me, the one I thought was dead, feels devastated at the loss.

  Without thinking about it too much, I give his hand a squeeze. He turns to me and I smile at him. He offers a weak smile in return before he turns back to the man at the counter.

  “All right you two, you’re all checked in. I have you in the Fifth Avenue Suite.” He slides the keycards to Walker, but he can’t take them. He has our bags in one hand and the other is still clenched in mine. I reach out and pick them up off the counter.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  We move away from the counter and the bellman is there with Steven. All my shopping bags are loaded on the cart.

  “Here’s my card. I’ll be your driver for the rest of your stay. Just call me when you need me.”

  I take the card and smile. Damn, Albany thought of everything. We follow the bellhop to the elevator that’s located right across from the check-in counter. We give him the room number and he escorts us into the elevator.

  Once inside the elevator, Walker lets go of my hand. I again feel that distance growing between us. Doesn’t matter how close we are, I can feel him pulling away.

  I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. However, those damn butterflies in my stomach are still fluttering around.

  The elevator opens on the twelfth floor and we head toward our room. As soon as we get to the door, it opens and out steps an older, well put-together man.

  “Hello, I’m Gerard,” he says introducing himself. “I’ll be your in-suite butler during your stay.”

  Holy shit! Okay, I’m starting to
think I went into the wrong damn profession. If my sister has money like this, maybe I should’ve been a companion for assassins.

  Gerard steps back and waves us inside. The foyer is large, very polished and fancy. Left, off the foyer, is a small hallway and a nice size walk-in closet with tons of storage space and a safe. Straight ahead is the master bathroom.

  It’s just as grand as I thought it would be. Double sinks, a marble shower with a rainforest showerhead, heated floors and a closed off closet for the toilet.

  The master is next to it. Red and white contrast on the walls in luxurious fabrics. A large king-size bed sits in the middle of the floor. It even has a chandelier. The view from the windows faces the courtyard.

  Back out of the master, down a short hallway, leads to the foyer. At the end of the foyer is the butler bar. There is a second bathroom off the foyer as well that also has a large shower and marble accents along with a glorious view overlooking 5th Avenue.

  Right off the butler’s bar is the living room. This area is magnificent. It also comes with views down 5th avenue all the way to the Empire State Building.

  The other window in the living room has a Juliette balcony. The furniture in the room is nice and very fancy. It makes me feel like I’m in one of those upscale home magazines. All in all, this place is more than I could have ever expected.

  The bellhop leaves our bags and the butler puts my new things away and gives us a rundown of his services before he leaves. I walk around the master suite, taking in all the lavishness of the room. Walker’s footsteps stop at the bedroom door. I turn to spy him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed.” It’s only then that I realize there’s only one bed. “We have nothing on the schedule until tomorrow. You should get some rest.” He turns to leave, but I stop him when I call out his name.

  “I’m sorry,” I can admit that. “What I said in the car was rude.”

  He turns back around to face me, taking a step into the room. “It’s all right. I know you’re still trying to grasp all that’s going on. I don’t take your temper tantrums to heart,” he says the last part with a lopsided smile, and I snort.

 

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