by Garren, Jax
Although, from what she’d read about burns and burn recovery, Hauk probably had a different definition of “pain” than most people.
His grin faded. He’d told her when they first met that she could ask whatever she wanted about his scars, that he preferred open discussion to people keeping their mouths politely shut. And here she was studying him, all closed-mouthed. The wariness that had slowly receded over their two months together came back, and his eyes darted for his hoodie. About a month ago, he’d taken it off for the first time, showing her his arms. It had been a big move.
She didn’t want the relationship to go backward, so she dropped down to sit on his stomach and asked the first question that came to mind. “How many tours did you do?”
That surprised the wariness from him. “Three.”
Her jaw dropped. “Three? Weren’t you only in the Army for six years?”
He shrugged. “You can volunteer to deploy.”
“Why would you do that? You didn’t like—I mean, war isn’t fun or—I mean…” And crap, her mouth was getting the better of her.
He sat up, dumping her ass on the ground between his legs. With one hand he steadied her, watching her movements, probably so he didn’t have to meet her eyes. “No, war is not fun. I wasn’t having a grand old time, so yay, send me back. But they’re going to send somebody. Who should it have been? Some guy with a wife and kids? Or me?”
“Nobody is disposable.”
He tried to sshee triedmirk at her, as if he could argue with that.
“No, Hauk. I’m serious. You’re not disposable. You said something like that yesterday, and it’s bullshit.”
He still looked ready to argue.
She crossed her arms and scowled. “You’re not disposable to me. And I’m a rich brat who thinks the world is her oyster, so you need to give up this idea that you have to sacrifice yourself for everybody else, because if something happened to you I’d be…” She did her best impression of her mother, glaring down her nose with a voice full of contempt. “I’d be put out.”
His eyes softened even if his lips didn’t, and it suddenly dawned on her how close they were. Her legs bent over his thighs and bracketed his torso. His hands had inched forward until his back was straight. If she straightened her own back and tipped her head up, they’d be right where they were yesterday, an inch away from a kiss.
And had she just said something about putting out?
“Training over for the day?” he asked, his voice husky as his eyes darkened with that same lusty fervor they’d held yesterday.
Why would he ask that?
Wait a minute.
Was it possible he’d been behaving himself, not because he wasn’t interested in her but because he wouldn’t hit on her while they were training? He’d been in the Army. They probably had strict rules about that sort of thing, and he was exactly the kind of guy who would follow them to ensure the women he worked with felt safe.
So if he was making a distinction between training time and not training time, was he asking for permission to quit being so professional?
Jolie made a gargled noise in eloquent answer to his question. She usually wasn’t struck dumb by men hitting on her—between her bank account, her cup size and her dad’s Rolodex, she’d been fending off overly aggressive suitors since she was in her teens. But all the physical hustling and bad one-liners from social-climbing hopefuls were not the same thing as a nice guy asking for…whatever it was Hauk was asking for.
On the other hand, it was possible that, just like her, he had an emotional hangover from yesterday and this meant nothing. At which point she should back away before they did something they’d regret.
But she took too long making a decision. With conviction, Hauk stated, “Aw, hell. Training’s over.” His fingers slid beneath her chin and tipped her face up.
The heat from yesterday came back with unrequited vengeance, filling her insides and shoving out rational thought. Like yesterday, she found herself drawn to his need, found an answering, if inexplicable, need inside herself. She straightened her back, bringing her lips next to his. “Training’s over,” she repeated as her arms slid around his neck.
For just a moment his breath was warm on her lips as he hesitated above her. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered their last kiss two months ago—not the one he didn’t know about, but the first one, when she was spent from his lovemaking. A kiss so full of heat and longing, despite the barrier between them, that she’d never felt anything like it before. She’d dreamed about that kiss with soft thoughts for all the possibilities it had promised. The dream was terrifying. And exhilarating.
And about to come true.
The first real touch of his mouth blew the faath blew tntasy away
with a reality that was so much sweeter.
Chapter Three
Jolie hit his system like a drug, a sudden and dizzying shot that killed his pain and made the world a dreamy place. His first instinct was to drag her to the floor and wrap them together as tight as she’d let him, losing himself in her softness and the achingly beautiful sound of her moans.
But he restrained himself. Her lips were soft enough, fascinating enough to keep him happy for hours. Jolie wasn’t some quick hook-up. Touching her wasn’t some itch that just needed scratching. She was the real thing. She needed to know that. He needed to treat her like that. They had time to learn each other right.
He touched his tongue to her lips, and she opened them, letting him in deeper. She sighed against his mouth, and he pressed harder, tasting the earthy sweetness of the coffee they shared each morning. Her hands brushed his back. He released her chin, but not the kiss, and pulled the band from her hair so he could thread his fingers through her curls. Her fingers dug into him.
He hadn’t done this in five years, not since before the accident, and the sensations were nearly fresh as they’d been back at thirteen, when a kiss was still the pinnacle of romantic achievement.
She scooted closer, pressing her body against his, conforming her curves against him as she breathed in little gasps—exactly the way he wanted her to, the way he’d dreamed she might. And yet it was almost too much.
Too much touch, too much feeling, too much change so suddenly. His breath picked up.
He jerked back.
Jolie fell forward. Embarrassed, he caught her. Her eyelids were lust-heavy, her lips pink and wet from his kiss. She looked up at him through her cinnamon-colored lashes, and the fear struck him that she’d see his face and regret her actions. But one corner of her mouth tilted up in a crazy grin. “Everything okay?” she asked in shuddering syllables.
“Oh yeah,” he lied. He wanted to kiss her again, that was for sure. He’d get his head screwed back on right, and everything would be okay. It was a weird momentary thing; his first real kiss since the accident—and with a girl he wanted worse than anyone he’d ever met. Of course he’d reacted.
Too much.
He should ask her on a date, anyway. Making out in the training room—well, it was awesome, but it also wasn’t very gentlemanly of him. He’d take her to do…something. He’d figure out a plan where he wouldn’t have to show his face in public and then he could kiss her again, proper-like.
It’d be nice if he could take her out in public.
He reached back for his hoodie.
She frowned at him. Was he upsetting her? Wait, did it look like he was blowing her off? He should ask her out before she got the wrong idea.
As he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his jacket, he tried to think of fun things they could do. He’d never asked out such a rich, cultured woman. She’d traveled all around the world and had all the comforts money could buy. No sweat impressing her, right?
Her frown was getting bigger. He would think up specifics later. Now he just had to ask her out so she’d know how badly he was interested in her. “Jolie—”
The training room izedoor opened. He yanked his hoodie into place as Jolie hopped up
and backed away. Two months ago she didn’t mind if people mistakenly thought they were dating. Now that he was trying to ask her out, she suddenly did? Why?
Brayden poked his head in, followed by Travis, who worked as a valet at Jolie’s fancy condo. He was a journalist working with The Underlight and had a keen interest in Jolie himself. Hauk liked him well enough, except for that last part.
“Hey, you two got a moment?” Travis asked.
Both men strutted in wearing manic grins. News.
“Sure,” Jolie said with a smooth smile, as if nothing had just happened.
Hauk felt like big things had just happened. She’d acted like she felt it, too, when he was kissing her.
She was a really good actress.
Hopefully this Jolie, the cool and unaffected one, was the role, and the hot, yielding girl who’d been so soft in his arms was the real one. Please gods, may he not have fucked this up.
Brayden shook black hair from his eyes. Normally his best friend’s exotic good looks didn’t irritate Hauk, but as the strands fell back into perfect place against smooth skin the color of aged bronze, he found himself holding back a sneer.
“We got somebody who wants to see you,” Brayden said, oblivious.
“Who?” Jolie asked. Between a stunning figure, and being the wealthy daughter of a media czar, people—particularly men—were always begging for her attention.
“Sorry, Red Hots. It’s not you this time.”
Jolie cracked a smile at the nickname. But if the visitor wasn’t here for her…
“Somebody wants to see me?” As far as Hauk was aware, everyone looking for him wanted to put him in prison. But he was pretty sure a breach of The Underlight’s security by the police or military wouldn’t put that dorky-ass grin on Brayden’s face. “Who is it?”
Travis answered, “New transfer from the Cincinnati Underlight going to work for the DA’s office here in Austin. Says she knows you.”
Hauk was from Cincinnati, but his trucker dad and secretary mom hadn’t been hanging out with any lawyers, that was for sure. “A lawyer is looking for me? Tell him sorry, but my trial ended a while ago.”
Brayden snorted. “No, Travis is telling it wrong. She’s—”
A chunk of ice stirred in Hauk’s gut. “She?” Travis had said that the first time, but it hadn’t sunk in. There was only one female attorney Hauk had a history with. A history that had been over and done well before she’d moved to the East Coast for her JD.
“Yeah, she, this calm and prim lawyer-type, was drinking her tea and telling the Austin Thing all about her duties in the Cincy chapter. Then somebody mentioned your name and she started squawking like a crazed chicken. Prof Echelson thought she was choking to death and nearly started the Heimlich. Finally she calmed down enough to say something about going to senior prom with you at Western Hills High.”
The stir turned to a weight that might sink him.
“Your high school sweetie just transferred into The Austin Underlight.”
* * *
Jolie barely kept a rabid glare frt bid glaom spearing every damn male in the room. Just what she needed. Mid-kiss, Hauk had jerked away from her like he suddenly realized she carried a deadly disease and threw all his clothes back on…just in time for some old girlfriend to show up?
Not okay.
“Ashley’s here?” Hauk asked softly.
She was going to vomit from the reverence in his tone. She was still shaking from their kiss. The one she’d just about lost herself in while he couldn’t backpedal out of it fast enough. No freakin’ way. She was a great kisser. Did he not notice what a damn fine kisser she was? Stupid boy.
“Is she outside? Now?” Reverence was shifting to terror.
“Yeah. She wants to see you. We thought we’d, you know—” Brayden hesitated just a bit, “—warn you first.”
Hauk nodded, lifted those metal eyebrows, tugged his hoodie tighter around his face. Oh, God. This Ashley chick hadn’t seen him since the fire.
“She, uh, she knows, right?” Brayden asked. “’Cause we, uh, we didn’t bring it up.”
Hauk barely nodded. “She knows.” But that didn’t seem to comfort him much.
If Ashley knew about something that had happened to Hauk six years after high school, that meant they were more than prom dates. And he was scared shitless to see her again. This wasn’t potential rejection by a stranger. This was potential rejection by somebody who meant a lot to him—or had at one time, anyway.
Well, crap. Was she supposed to go comfort the guy who’d just ejected himself from her arms? So he could greet his old girlfriend? Hell, no. That was not her job.
But Hauk shot her a panicked look, turning to her—not Brayden, not Travis—for support. She shut her eyes, trying to block sympathy from intruding on her anger.
Didn’t work. She could still see him, looking at her for help. Hauk never asked for help, and he’d helped her plenty. She felt herself relenting. He acted like his scars didn’t bother him, but Jolie knew better. This was his nightmare. If she walked out right now, she’d be deserting him to face his worst fear by himself when five minutes ago he’d helped her face one of hers.
She scrubbed a hand across her face and took the two steps back to where he was now standing. “Is she a reasonably decent human?” she asked.
“Ashley? Well, yeah. She’s…last I heard, she was working for the DA’s office back in our old neighborhood in Cincinnati.” His face lit up with a touch of pride. Jolie was really going to puke. “She graduated from Yale Law and went back home to fight for a bunch of blue collars who can’t pay her what she’s worth.”
Of course she did. She probably fed orphans in her spare time and saved puppies from abuse by neighborhood rapscallions. Jolie was going to hate her. But she gave Hauk an encouraging smile. “Then it’s going to be fine. Smile. You have really nice eyes when you smile.” She bumped shoulders with him, and he gave her a little version of that grin.
The one that was probably killer back when Saint Ashley knew him.
“Thanks.” He nodded at Brayden. “Let her…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Saint Ashley had better be nice, or Jolie would poke her eyes out.
A moment later, a little blonde thing walked shyly into the room. Hauk’s ex-girlfriend was petite and delicate-boned, with soft gray eyes. Her face was pretty enough, if nothing special, but she had uncommonly fabulous hair flowing past her waist with a smooth thickness that was rare on a blonde. Her natural look was elfin, but her fashion choices overly conscious, as if she’d stepped out of a fairy tale into a knockoff version of Jackie O’s wardrobe. Ashley’s pencil skirt and sweater were upscale but not couture, her shoes conservative and her opal jewelry an odd but interesting choice that worked on her.
“Wesley?” she asked. Nobody called Hauk by his first name anymore.
Jolie put a hand on Hauk’s back to steady him, and together they watched Ashley see him for the first time. Her eyes opened in shock and her jaw trembled.
Hauk stiffened. Jolie pressed harder, leaned a little closer.
Ashley managed a sad smile. “Wesley. Oh, God.” She shook as she walked across the room, her low heels digging into the mats with each precarious step.
Jolie never felt heavy, she’d been a ballerina for crying out loud, but the way the waif-like Ashley moved made her feel large and inelegant. Particularly here in the training room, with her muscular shoulders and sweaty curls clumping to her forehead and the back of her neck. The feeling was ridiculous, because of all the petty, self-centered traits Jolie knew she had, she also knew she was damn pretty. Nobody should make her feel ugly.
Ashley opened her arms, and Hauk reached down to pick her up in a hug.
Saint Ashley’s beatific expression finally broke as she looked over Hauk’s shoulder. Pain and horror at what had happened, at the difference that she alone in this room knew, filled her face. She caught Jolie’s eyes, shook her head and mouthed, “Oh my God.”
At least the girl would put that façade of acceptance back on before Hauk could see her face again. Ashley may have grown up in the same blue-collar part of Cincinnati, Ohio, that Hauk was from, but she’d gotten herself out and was sticking her toes into Jolie’s home world of manicured expressions and easy lies. Most of the time Jolie hated the pretenses of society, but sometimes—like right now—those white lies like, “Everything’s fine,” and, “It doesn’t bother me,” were needed.
Hauk’s looks didn’t bother Jolie anymore.
But everything wasn’t fine.
“I should probably get to the stage to help Catrina set up,” she said and marched for the door, trying desperately to keep her faux calm plastered in place.
“Oh, Jolie!” Hauk called.
She stopped, wishing he had words that would make the last five minutes go away like they’d never happened. Some magic phrase that would make her and Hauk normal friends again, with no awkwardness or disappointed hopes. But that wasn’t possible.
Hauk had put Ashley down, and her smile was back firmly in place, almost as if it was natural. Good girl.
Hauk parted his lips as if he wanted to say something then glanced around the room at all the people and changed his mind. “I’ll see you at the benefit,” he told her instead.
“Yeah. I perform at six.” Please be there. “After that I’m up for guard duty. Just lemme know where you need me.”
