Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club)

by Ellie Masters

  An empty jetway stretches before me. All other passengers are on board. I walk into the suffocating emptiness and slowly make it to the end. All that’s left is that final committed step.

  The flight attendant beams a wide smile at me as I step onto the plane. She welcomes me onto the flying coffin with a death grin. I don’t understand what she’s so damn happy about when I’m the one marching to my death.

  Last time I was on a plane, I only had to walk a few steps to get to my seat in first class. This time, I’m way at the back. The flight is nearly full. A few passengers stand in the aisle as they put their carry-ons into the bins over their head. They hold me up while I wait patiently for them to take their seats.

  I make it to the back of the plane, stow my single carry-on into the overhead bin, and slip into the aisle seat. At least I got that right. No getting sucked out of the window for me. My backpack goes at my feet, but there’s no soothing alcohol hidden inside of it.

  I’m on my own. My gut tells me to get up and run. Race down the aisle to the safety of the concourse. My head tells me to stop being silly.

  I’m a hysterical mess barely holding on.

  But I do hold on.

  There’s no other choice. I already checked out of Euphoria and there’s no going back.

  There’s an older gentleman sitting by the window and an empty middle seat between us. He gives a soft smile as I take my seat. Other than that, he doesn’t engage me in conversation. Considering my pathetic small-talk skills, I’m fine with that.

  My hands shake as I buckle in. No going back now.

  I squeeze my eyes shut on takeoff and don’t open them until we touch down in Atlanta, nearly six hours later.

  I send a quick text to my brothers letting them know my change in plans. Steven, youngest of the brothers, but older than me by twelve years, immediately calls my phone.

  “I can’t believe you’re here, little Quinney.” His deep baritone rumbles through the phone and brings a smile to my face.

  “Just landed.”

  “Do you need a ride? I’m not far.” Steven works as a welder for the family construction business. He’s probably coming off work.

  “I was going to call a car. I don’t want to bother you.”

  “No bother. If you don’t mind waiting, I can save you the fare.”

  “That would be great.” I learned a long time ago to let my brothers take care of me. They’re strong, obstinate, pricks when they want to be, but I’m their baby sister, and they can’t help but spoil me rotten.

  “Cool. I want to be the first to hear the big news.” I hear the smile in his voice, but my stomach clenches with his words. “Although, I’m kind of surprised y’all chose to spend Christmas with the family. Thought maybe you’d spend it alone someplace romantic.” If only he knew, but that comment is my fault. I may have hinted about expecting a proposal this Christmas.

  “Yeah, please tell Ian, Brett, and Gideon to keep their traps shut. I really want this to be a surprise.”

  “Oh, Mother and Daddy will be surprised.”

  It may sound strange for a grown man to call his father daddy, but we’re an old southern family. We never did Mom or Mommy. It was always Mother, and our father has always been Daddy. People look at me sideways at work. They don’t get the regional custom.

  “Well, don’t ruin it. Okay?” I send a group text to my brothers telling them not to spoil the surprise. I don’t trust them. Steven gives a low laugh when the text comes through on his end.

  “Geez, message received and acknowledged. You guys staying at Mother and Daddy’s, or do you want to crash at my place?” He thinks he’s picking up two people. “I’ve got my truck. You better not have like a gazillion bags. The two of you will need to both sit up front with me on the bench seat.”

  Right, the two of us. I guess we’re going to get to that juicy bit of gossip sooner rather than later. Gideon is going to be pissed he’s not the first to know.

  “I was planning on staying with Mother and Daddy, if that’s okay.”

  We all gather there for the holidays, and I honestly feel there’ll be fewer questions there. My brothers are vicious interrogators. I wasn’t kidding when I told Hawke they’d try and rip Scott’s head off.

  Hawke.

  A stabbing pain brings me to a halt and I hold back a sob.

  “Everything okay, Quinney?” Steven has a nearly sixth sense about me. It’s uncanny, but I’m not about to go into all of that on the phone.

  “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Me too, baby girl. Me too.” There’s a pause on his end. “Where am I picking you up?”

  I tell him where to find me and hang up. I’ve got a few minutes to get myself together before the interrogation begins.

  A little while later, his old pickup truck rounds the bend. He’s had the same truck since high school, lovingly keeping it running, although it’s seen better days. It’s on its second engine and pushing over three hundred thousand miles, all told. He pulls up to the curb and hops out to help me with my bags. His piercing gaze takes me in, a head-to-toe assessment, which ends in a pissed-off expression.

  “What the fuck did he do?” Steven wraps me in his arms, giving me one of the best bear hugs on the planet.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Oh, we’re going to talk about it.” His protective instincts are already engaged.

  “How about we not?”

  He cocks his head. “You know that’s not going to happen. Now, spill.” He grabs my carry-on and tosses it in the back seat, then he opens the passenger side door for me to climb in. Or rather up. His truck is lifted and it’s a bit of a jump to get in.

  I buckle up and he climbs in the driver’s seat. His eyes pinch and he gives a sharp nod. “We’re going to Dale’s.”

  “I don’t want to go to Dale’s. Are they even open on Christmas Eve?”

  The local mom and pop ice-cream parlor, Dale’s, is where my brothers took me every time someone made me cry or broke my heart when I was growing up. I have nothing but fond memories of Dale’s.

  “It’s not up to you.” He sends word to our brothers. There’s no doubt they’ll all drop whatever they’re doing to gather around me. My friends complained about their brothers growing up. I never did. They’ve always had my back, defending me against the evil in the world.

  When we pull up outside Dale’s less than half an hour later, Ian and Brett are already there. They lean against their Harleys—arms crossed, scowls fixed on their faces, ready for battle. I take in a deep breath and prepare for the interrogation. Gideon arrives on his Harley last. He pulls in beside Ian and Brett, yanks off his helmet, and turns his scowl to me. The eldest of the Hayes brothers, he’s the leader of our little pack.

  His arms stretch wide when he sees me. “Come home, baby girl.”

  I practically run into his embrace. I may be twenty-five, but I’ll always be his baby girl. And Brett’s. And Ian’s. And Steven’s. They’re my fiercest protectors.

  Gideon practically swallows me in his embrace. He tenderly kisses the crown of my head. Then he passes me to Brett and Ian until I’ve been thoroughly hugged. Gideon then leads us all inside, heading toward the back booth I practically grew up in.

  They took me for ice cream every Sunday after church without fail. I started out riding behind Gideon’s bicycle, then progressed to the back of his motorcycle when he learned to ride. We have a lot of really good memories in this booth.

  As always, I scoot in to the middle of the U-shaped booth. Steven slides in on one side. Ian takes the other side. Brett and Gideon, as the older siblings, bracket us in. My brothers say nothing as Gideon waves the pretty waitress over. He orders for us all, our usual, five sodas and one family-sized banana split. After the waitress leaves, he turns to me.

  “What did that bastard do to you?”

  I wither beneath my brother’s intense stare. He doesn’t tolerate anyone fucking wit
h his baby sister, but I’m not getting out of this booth until all my brothers are satisfied.

  “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to do anything.”

  “You know that’s not going to happen.” Brett huffs a laugh as he leans back and takes me in. “What did that douchebag do?”

  My heart gives a little squeeze. That’s the word Hawke uses. I miss him terribly. Tears well up in my eyes. All around me, my brothers growl their anger as I wipe my tears.

  “If you promise not to kill anyone, I’ll spill.” I hold out my hand, pinky finger extended. The one thing my brothers never go back on is their word.

  They all look at my little pinky finger like it’s a snake ready to bite them, but I don’t cave. I will get their promise.

  Steven is the first to hook his pinky with mine. “Promise, but I don’t like it.”

  Ian waits for Steven to release my pinky before hooking his with mine. “Promise, no killing.”

  I wait for Brett and Gideon. When neither of them moves, I clear my throat.

  “Brett, you have to promise.”

  “I won’t kill anyone, but he might find life a little more challenging.” It’s the best I’m going to get out of him.

  “Gideon, you have to pinky swear.” I look at big, burly Gideon and wait for him to grudgingly accept my terms.

  “That shit is for kids.”

  “I don’t care.” I pull back my hand and cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. To anyone watching us, I must look ridiculous. Gideon is not only the eldest, but he’s the biggest of the Hayes men. His muscles are stacked with muscles, but then he used to be a bouncer and is still a fanatic with his weight training.

  “Look at Quinney all grow’d up, like she can intimidate me.” He huffs, but I see the moment he caves. Leaning across the table, he holds out his massive hand and extends his pinky. “I won’t kill him, but I agree with Ian. Doesn’t mean we won’t fuck him up.”

  “Well, I don’t want that either.”

  There’s no way Scott is coming out of this unscathed. There are a few things my brothers don’t tolerate in life. The first is when a man forces himself on a woman. The second is when a man cheats on one.

  Scott is doomed.

  Knowing this, I slowly hook my pinky around Gideon’s finger.

  “Pinky swear?” He will say the words. Gideon’s a mischievous fucker and he’s damn good at finding loopholes.

  “Fine.” He rolls his eyes and gives a huff. “I pinky swear.”

  Our waitress returns with our drinks. She takes in my brothers, jaw working soundlessly as her eyes dart around the table. I know exactly what she’s thinking. My brothers aren’t just good looking. With their blazing green eyes, the same shade as mine, and golden complexions, they are fucking arresting.

  She manages to deliver our drinks. Ignores me. Don’t know why that is, clearly, I’m their sister. Same hair. Same eyes. I’m like less than a zero threat when it comes to her options.

  “They’re all available.” I speak up. “Give me a little extra chocolate sauce and I’ll hook you up with one of them.”

  Her eyes widen.

  “Little Quinney.” Ian’s voice deepens to a sultry rumble, “We don’t need your help getting dates.”

  Brett gives a low chuckle.

  Our waitress runs from the table. I punch Ian in the arm.

  “You do because you keep running them off. How is it that none of you are married yet, or seeing anyone?” I let my gaze wander around the table, stopping on each brother in turn. “Not even a steady girl for any of you?”

  Gideon gives a shrug. “We’re not here to talk about our love lives.” I wither beneath his penetrating gaze. “Now spill. We all did the pinky swear thing. What did that fucker do to you?”

  I blow out my breath. I really hoped the ice cream sundae would make an appearance before I had to spill my guts, but that is not to be the case. I stall for time and take a sip of my soda while staring defiantly back at Gideon.

  He gives a little shake of his head and glances at Steven. Without words, Steven reaches for my soda and yanks it away.

  “You get that back when you tell us what happened.” Gideon sits back with a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. He also turns his head, craning it to watch our pretty waitress. I have a feeling her evening plans are going to suddenly change.

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Considering we expected a ring on your finger and there’s obviously nothing there…” His low growl is like a rumble of thunder.

  “Well, I got the ring…” I flash my most innocent expression at him.

  “Spill it, baby girl.” Ian pokes me in the ribs, making me jump.

  I spill. All the horrid details come out. The party. The proposal. Scott fucking Sadie.

  “Damn.” Brett covers his mouth and drags his hand down his face. “Sadie?”

  “Yeah. It kind of sucked.”

  “Kind of?” Gideon’s murderous scowl softens. “Quinney girl, I’m really sorry about that. What can we do?”

  “Well, not murdering Scott is a step in the right direction.” I really haven’t thought much further than that. “Promise you let me tell Mother and Daddy.”

  “Promise.” Gideon speaks for everyone. My other brothers nod in agreement. “How does this impact your job? Aren’t you waiting on some funds? You’re going to have to work with him.”

  “Honestly, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  Brett’s brows draw together. He’s the silent one of the bunch. Incredibly smart, he’s a talented woodworker. He works as a carpenter for the family business, but his artistry is greater than that. One day, I’m going to get him to pursue his carvings in earnest. The man simply has too much talent to waste.

  He slowly taps on the table, then turns his thoughtful expression on me. “If your party was on the twenty-first and it’s now Christmas Eve, where the hell have you been hiding out?”

  I practically choke with his comment. All my brothers turn their attention to me while I squirm and figure out how best to lie.

  Fortunately, our waitress returns with a massive banana split. It’s filled with twelve scoops of ice-cream, several bananas, drizzled with chocolate sauce and caramel, and topped with whipped cream and five cherries. Our waitress puts down a silver dish with extra chocolate sauce and slides it across the table to me.

  I gotcha sister.

  My brothers stare at her retreating backside, mouths agape, and eyes practically bugging out of their heads.

  “Shit, if I thought it was that easy…” Ian gives a little drumroll on the tabletop. “It’s settled. Quinney is my official wingman.” He grabs a spoon and takes a scoop of the whipped cream and shoves it in his mouth.

  Gideon stares at the waitress and gives a slow shake of his head. “Well, I’m out. The three of you can arm wrestle for that.”

  “You’re out?” My voice rises with interest. “Why’s that? Are you seeing someone?”

  Steven gives a huff. “Gideon is seeing nobody but his own damn stubbornness.”

  “What does that mean?” I look between my brothers, glad to have the conversation turn away from me.

  “It means nothing.” Gideon picks up a spoon and digs in. “Don’t think you’re getting out of answering Brett’s question. Where have you been, baby girl?”

  Twenty-Nine

  Hawke

  Three days.

  That’s how long it took for Quinn to worm her way into my heart and cut a hole in it.

  A huge-fucking-gaping hole.

  It’s my fault. I’m the one who let her in.

  All my rules?

  Ignored.

  Every throbbing pang?

  Mine to bear.

  If I hadn’t walked in on her, would she have told me?

  Or did she intend to sneak away and leave without an explanation?

  When did I become the pussy who cared what a woman thought about me?

  Not that it matters
. I left before she could tender her excuses. I turned around.

  I walked away.

  Anger thundered in my veins. Rage pumped through my muscles. Seething fury pulsed within each painful breath. For three days I ached for her before deciding to do something about it.

  She got under my skin. It’s a sin I can’t let go unpunished. All I can think about is throttling her delicate neck. She will pay. It’s a visceral need surging within me. The need to take. To claim. To make her hurt for walking out on me.

  I’ll hurt her as much as she hurt me. The only question is how.

  My bruised ego demands retribution. It wants a piece of her, something to chew and spit away. Like I can discard the emotions she etched in my heart.

  I wish I never met Miss Quinn Hayes.

  I slam my fist against my chest, pounding away the pain her departure leaves. Roiling anger simmers in the background as I mull over where I went wrong. What signs did I miss? When the fuck did I lose control?

  I’m the one who walks away.

  Always me.

  For the third time in as many days, my stormy stride brings me to the concierge desk. I could call, but this requires discretion. The information already belongs to me. No one will deny my right. However, rumors among the staff aren’t something I can avoid. There will be talk.

  Fuck if I care.

  A glance inside reveals no guests in the vicinity. The clerk on duty is Iris, a young girl filling the empty hours of her summer with an idyllic summer job. In the fall, she’ll return to the rigors of her education, learning how to run an enterprise such as this. She shows great promise.

  But for now, she’s nothing other than a receptionist presiding over a concierge’s desk.

  Her delicate fingers tap over the keyboard and the blue glow of the monitor reflects off her eyes. She looks up at my entrance and a smile fills her face. I ignore the blush coloring her cheeks.

  “Mr. Sterling, how may I help you?” A sweet smile fills her face and her eyes take one long sweep of my physique. If I wanted her, all it would take is the crook of my finger. Almost, I consider it, but a hasty fuck won’t satisfy what I’m craving.

  Only one woman can do that.