by Aria Cole
His Girl
Aria Cole
Dani Wyatt
Copyright © 2017
by Aria Cole
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Credit PopKitty
Contents
The HIS Collection
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
The HIS Collection
Excerpt: Stepbrother Anonymous
Acknowledgments
Also by Aria Cole
About the Author
The HIS Collection
What does it mean to be HIS? From baby making to babygirls, you'll find a bit of whatever melts your panties in this ode to Father's Day. From five of your favorite steamy, safe authors (and one hot newbie) come a group of six stand alone books dedicated to Daddy's everywhere. You will get your fill of everything from alpha men focused on securing a baby in their woman to filthy Daddy Doms who know how to care for their princesses. So, hold Daddy's hand and see what's in store!
Out Now: His Everything by Frankie Love
Out Now: His Obsession by Roxie Brock
Out Now: His Rules by Dani Wyatt
Out Now: His Temptation by Amber Barden
Out Now: His Girl by Aria Cole
June 16th: His First by Jenika Snow
Find out more on the collection HERE!
Hawk Larson left small-town Indiana to become one of the most famous quarterbacks on the planet, throwing winning passes for the Bears and living the dream. Life looked picture-perfect from the outside, but after five years, he still can't shake the memory of the one thing he left behind...the girl who owned his heart and crushed it one fateful night.
After an injury benches Hawk for good, he returns to the town he left, confronting the past and running headfirst into an unexpected future.
Life hasn't been easy in the five years since he left, and Morgan Quinn isn't the same girl she once was, her luscious hourglass curves and stubborn streak the only reminders of everything he left behind. She still rattles him to the core and leaves him craving more, but Morgan has a secret. A secret that may change the game for good.
Warning: When Hawk finally sees his Morgan again, he isn't sure if it's love or hate he's feeling, until fireworks fly at first touch and passion overcomes reason, leaving Hawk with the realization that he must protect his girl at all costs.
Chapter 1
Morgan
“Look how high you are!”
Emerson shrieked as I gave her another push on the swing.
“Higher! I want to go as high as the clouds!”
“Not that high.” I giggled at the sweet little four-year-old. “I might lose you way up there!”
“Higher! Higher!”
“No, it’s time you come back down to earth. We should get back home for lunch.”
“Can we have mac and cheese?” The swing slowed, and Emerson peered up at me with her big brown eyes. This little girl never failed to steal my heart.
“Anything you want, honey.” I lifted her off the swing and looped our fingers, walking across the crisp green grass of the park. Emerson and I went to the park most days, mostly because it was only two blocks from our house.
“Can we go to the park after lunch too?”
“No, not today. I have to work for a few hours tonight. Mrs. Frisk is going to stay with you.”
“But she smells like old hot dogs. And she always gives me a goodnight kiss, and her breath smells.”
I couldn’t help the smile that turned my lips. The things that came out of this kid’s mouth.
“Hey! Look at that doggy!” Emerson dropped my hand and darted off to a squatty little bulldog puppy, gnawing on the leash his owner held in one hand.
“Emerson!” I called, running after. “Ask if it’s okay to pet the dog first!” My eyes landed on the owner of the dog just as I said the words.
And my heart stopped.
This couldn’t be happening.
It wasn’t possible.
Why was he back?
And what the hell do I say?
“Morgan?”
Shit. Too late.
“Hawk.” I hadn’t breathed that name in nearly half a decade. “Why are you here?”
His dark eyes fell on me, penetrating to my very soul, just like they always had.
My mind fell back to all the times we’d had together. The laughs, the touches, the first kiss, the first…
Hawk Larson was my first everything, and now he was standing right in front of me after all this time.
“Not exactly a nice way to welcome a guy home.” His words were clipped, as if he were irritated by the very sight of me. Well, got news for you, buddy. Seeing you in my park isn’t exactly what I would call a good day either.
“You’re home?” I uttered, one hand reaching out for Emerson and pulling her to my side. I don’t know why I felt the need to shield her because it only brought attention to her little cherubic face. The inquisitive eyes.
“I’m Emerson.” She thrust out a hand. “What’s your name?”
Hawk’s eyes held hers, oxygen sucked out of the air between the three of us. His eyes slid from hers to mine, narrowing with anger before landing on hers again. “I’m Hawk.”
He shook her hand, and every cell in my body begged to disappear. Just melt into the dirt at my feet.
“Mommy is making mac and cheese for lunch. Do you like mac and cheese?” Her wide eyes were carefree and sparkling. I had to get us out of here. Standing toe to toe with Hawk left a pounding in my head, stole all the breath from my lungs, and damn that stubborn part of me that wanted to wrap him in a hug.
“I happen to love mac and cheese. It’s nice to meet you, Emerson.”
My gaze hung suspended on his, something in me urging me to pepper him with kisses just like I used to do when we were teenagers.
But those days were gone, and time had certainly changed both of us.
His broad shoulders, chiseled waist, the corded arms that had always danced just at the edges of my memory…but not even my memory could do him justice. I’d known him as a lean college quarterback, taut with sinewy muscle. The day he left for the NFL was the last time I’d seen him. For the first two years, Dad would turn on every game, beg me to watch with him, but I couldn’t stand to see Hawk’s face. Couldn't stand to see the happiness radiating across it. I knew this man. I’d known him from the time he was a boy throwing his first football. I’d cheered for him on the sidelines when he’d thrown the winning pass at homecoming. I’d been there with him through it all.
But not this.
Not now.
He was different.
Changed.
Older.
The jawline had grown sharper, now smattered with a dark five-o'clock shadow that had me itching to run my fingers across it.
Hawk’s eyes trained on mine then, anger and confusion swirling.
“It was good to see you, Morgan.” He said my name like a curse word.
He still hated me.
Jesus, this couldn’t be any worse.
Everything I’d done, I’d done for him. He was my heart—he always had been my heart. Why didn’t he see that?
“Next time, ask your mom to add some bacon to the mac and cheese. Makes it
ten times better.” He winked at my daughter. Hawk Larson just winked at my daughter. I can’t believe this is happening.
“Oh, she does! It’s the bestest!”
Hawk’s eyes cut into me, jaws crushed together. “She does, does she? Wonder where she learned that?”
“It’s bacon, Hawk. It’s not like you have a patent on bacon mac and cheese.” I couldn't help the sarcasm. Why did it feel like five years had hardly passed and we were falling right back into old familiar habits?
“What’s your dog’s name?” Emerson bent to pet the puppy on the head again.
Hawk waited long moments before answering, bending down to place a hand on the dog’s head and meet my daughter at eye level. “His name is Milo.”
The air swooped from my lungs with that one word.
He’d named his dog after the kitten we’d found and raised together in high school?
The one my dad wouldn’t let me keep, so Hawk had snuck it into his bedroom every night, hiding it under the covers while he slept. His mom had found out eventually and forced him to find a home for it. I’d cried like a baby the day we’d taken Milo to the farm outside of town to his new home. It was silly, we’d only had the kitten a few weeks, but I loved him. Somehow it felt like the first thing Hawk and I had together, a piece of both of us because we’d raised it. Hawk had held me in his arms, letting me cry out the tears.
Maybe I was preparing myself for him to leave then.
“You named him Milo?”
“Mommy used to have a cat named Milo!” Emerson smiled up innocently.
A tear burned behind my eyelid before I pulled her up to standing again. “We should get going, honey. I have to work tonight. Mrs. Frisk will be wondering where we are.”
I stepped around Hawk, still hunched and petting his dog, eyes averted from mine.
So many words choking my throat.
Why hadn’t he told me he was coming back?
Why hadn’t I heard it before now? Usually, gossip tore around our little town like wildfire.
“Bye, Milo! Bye, Hawk!” Emerson waved enthusiastically as we walked away.
I could feel his eyes on us every step.
Every goddamn step, Hawk’s eyes were on me, just like they always had been.
It used to make warmth curl up inside my belly. Hawk took care of me like no one in my life ever had, which was why the anger he’d directed at me just now was like an iron dagger twisting in my back.
Hopefully, Hawk’s visit to Greenville would be short-lived, then Emerson and my life could go back to normal. Hawk was anything but normal, and I’d loved him for it at one time. But now, every time I thought about him, my chest hurt like an oncoming heart attack.
I’d done my best to keep my head down and mind my own business the last five years, and that wasn’t about to change, even if Hawk Larson was back in town.
Chapter 2
Hawk
My head fucking pounded.
My chest ached.
My teeth goddamn hurt from clenching my jaw so much.
I really had to work at controlling my anger better. I rubbed a hand across my face as I finished walking Milo around the park.
Of all the people to run into my first week back in town, and it was her.
And she had a kid.
Morgan had a fucking kid, and that kid wasn't mine. I’d been gone for too long for that kid to be mine, and that meant she’d fucking cheated on me.
Well, it wasn’t exactly cheating when she ripped my fucking heart out and left me bleeding on the floor.
No, that was a definite breakup.
But I guess, for me, it never had been. I’d been thinking about her nonstop. I couldn't get the soft touch of her lips against mine out of my head. The feel of her underneath me when I was sliding into her like a drug I was constantly chasing. The memory of the breathy sighs on her lips when I made her come. Morgan and I fit like puzzle pieces, a perfect set.
That was why I’d been so out of my mind when she’d left me.
I may have been the one to move out of state, but I would have married her, taken her with me, provided everything she needed. We could have lived the adventure together.
But instead, she told me she never wanted to see me again, and I believed her.
Instead of living life on the road with me, she stayed here, shacked up with someone else, and had the asshole’s baby.
I hated her.
Nothing good could come out of seeing her again, and suddenly the decision to move back home after I permanently injured my rotator cuff seemed like the worst decision yet.
“Fuck, Milo, we should have run the other way when we saw her coming. Trouble. Women are nothing but trouble,” I rambled to the pup. He turned, plopped on his ass, and hung his tongue out.
“Right. Glad we agree.” I shook my head. “Let’s go home, buddy. This has been too much crazy for one day.”
He wagged his tail and jumped to his feet.
“I’ve got shit to do anyway. Those fan letters won’t answer themselves, right?” I’d just received a huge box from my manager, fan mail, mostly from kids, that needed my reply. I had at least a few hours of signing photos and writing messages ahead of me.
I loved my fans; they're what kept me strong when two surgeries had failed to fix the problem. My pro career had been cut short, but truth be told, I was fine with that. Life on the road wasn’t for me. I was a simple guy; I liked to be at home. Crowds and team trips weren’t enjoyable. But I would always miss the fans. The look on the kids’ faces when they looked up at you, believing all of their dreams could come true. Hell, mine had. Every single dream I had had become a reality, except for maybe the most important one. Her.
Morgan Quinn had been haunting me since the day I walked away.
I stretched my hands before placing the last personalized letter on the top of the stack. My stomach chose that moment to rumble. There wasn’t an ounce of food in this house unless I wanted peanut butter and jelly again, which I didn’t. This place was only temporary until my new house was move-in ready. Five bedrooms, six baths, a pool, and a gated yard. All the privacy I could ever want and room to expand long-term. Even when I’d left for the NFL, I’d known I would be back one day.
Greenville, Indiana had always been my home. The slower pace and quiet atmosphere called to me.
Playing pro for the Bears had been great, but I’d just been biding my time and saving my cash until I could move back home and buy a place big enough to live out the rest of my days in.
I glanced over at Milo, feet up and snuggled deep into the couch. “Guess you’re not going anywhere.”
I pulled my keys off the table, shoved them deep into my pocket, and then walked out the door.
A quick bite at the diner a few blocks away would have to do. I’d eaten enough pizza in the last week to kill a man, so something hot and homemade sounded about perfect.
The streetlights hummed as I walked through the darkness, hoping the diner was still open and wondering where in the hell I was going to start walking my dog to avoid Morgan’s park.
Yeah, Morgan’s park.
She could have it.
I’d take the dog to piss in the next county if that’s what it took to avoid her and the sweet little face of her darling kid.
Just the thought alone made my stomach churn.
The nerve of her to slaughter my insides like that and then turn around and fuck someone else.
I hadn't been with another woman since her.
Not that I’d been saving myself, but the truth was, no one had ever compared.
No one had made me feel what Morgan made me feel. I’d held out for that, and I’d never found it.
A near growl escaped my lips as I thought about her touching someone else. Another man’s paws on her soft skin. My skin. My girl. Mine.
I remembered the way she'd let me clutch her hand during my grandma’s funeral, salty tears filling my eyes. Morgan had always been there for me, and then
she'd gone and stolen my grandma’s macaroni, cheese, and bacon recipe. So much for loyalty.
“Fuck, maybe I should sell the new place and move.” I said the words out loud, swinging in the door of the diner as I did. “Fuck me.”
There she was. Standing against the counter, back to me.
I’d know that back anywhere.
The luscious curve of her hips, the hourglass waist, the way her ponytail hung over one shoulder.
She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Without thinking twice, I strode right to her, my chest pressed against her back, my teeth at her ear. “What are you doing here?”
She spun, eyes wide as she was taken off guard. Her fiery greens narrowed before she spat, “I work here,” and turned.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.
“Of course you do.” I couldn’t help the growl.
“We’re closing in thirty, but you’re welcome to take a seat,” she said simply, treating me like I was any other customer. The fuck I was any other customer. We had history. She couldn't just erase history.
I pushed a hand over my face and through my hair. “Where do you live?”
“Why would I tell you?” she shot back, a hand at her hip.
Another groan rolled through me. “Fine. I don’t give a shit anyway.”
“Then why ask?” Her eyes sparkled. She had me on that one. I did care. I cared a fuck of a lot. I didn’t know why I cared, but I did.
“Because…” I paused, eyes locked on hers. The air hung heavy between us, her eyes searching mine, my gaze climbing up and down hers. Fuck, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her until she couldn't fucking breathe and forgot every other man that had come since me. “Because I give a fuck about that little girl.”
