Nighthawk & The Return of Luke McGuire

by Rachel Lee

  “Definitely,” she admitted.

  Luke joined them then, smiling at his little brother. “So, you liked that little run?”

  “Oh, man, yeah! This is a lot cooler even than what I thought you were doing.”

  Thank goodness for that, Amelia thought.

  “When can we do it again?” the boy asked eagerly.

  “We’ll make another run tomorrow, if you want.”

  “Yeah, I do, a lot…but after this, I mean.”

  “You going to stay straight?”

  “I will, I promise. She won’t even recognize me.”

  Amelia saw Luke suppress a smile. “I know you’ll try,” he said.

  Clearly Luke knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Just like he knew he was going to have to fight to stay a part of his brother’s life.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Sgt. Stavros talked her into this one. Maybe he can talk her into a trip every summer. And I’ll go annoy her in person if I have to. Maybe she’ll let you go just to keep me away.”

  David exulted as if it were a done deal, but Amelia knew that wasn’t going to be easy, either. Jim had confronted Jackie with the truth about her son and told her that she was going to lose David if she continued to force the separation between brothers. Amelia suspected Jim had also made contact with Luke an unofficial condition of David not being charged with the attempted forgery, although Amelia had never intended to press charges anyway.

  In any case, Jackie had reluctantly allowed this weekend trip. And left open the possibility of future ones.

  “I don’t get how she can still hate you, now that she knows the truth,” David said.

  “She won’t change, Davie,” Luke said. “I don’t think she can. There’s never going to be love between us. But maybe, someday, we can have peace.”

  “Hey, David!” came a yell from behind them. “Get on over here if you’re eating lunch with us!”

  “Coming! Save me a burger!”

  The boy took off running to where Gary, Diane and their two girls, Jennifer and Jessica, were surrounding a barbecue. Amelia watched him go, then turned to find Luke studying her intently.

  “So,” he said, “are you going with us tomorrow? Or staying here with Diane?”

  He was giving her, she realized, an easy way out. She and Diane had hit it off rather well, so there was a good excuse if she’d hated the river and didn’t want to go back.

  To her own surprise, she wanted to.

  “I’d like to go with you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “I…it was wonderful.”

  He must have seen that she really meant it, because he grinned. “I knew you’d think so.”

  “Oh? And just how did you know that, Mr. McGuire?”

  “Because,” he said, pulling her into a bear hug, “underneath all that calm and cool, you’re a class-five, lady.” She shook her head, more in wonder than denial. Amazingly, Luke saw the difference. “It’s always been there inside you, Amelia. You just buried it so deep it took a while to break loose.”

  She laughed. It was so insane. What she’d done today was insane. Virtually every moment since she’d met him had been insane. She was insane, and she was loving every minute of it.

  “You know,” he said, his voice suddenly husky, “David’s going to be busy for at least an hour over there.”

  Amelia knew instantly what he meant. Heat pulsed through her. Luke had come up on his motorcycle last week, then she had driven up this weekend with David, and because of the boy’s presence, they had tried to be discreet. Amelia had stayed in the main lodge, rather than being where she wanted to be, in the small cabin on the river, in Luke’s bed. It had been a long week for both of them.

  “Maybe longer,” she said hopefully.

  He kissed her then, a quick but potent promise of things to come. “I wonder how fast I can get this stuff stowed?” he muttered.

  “Not fast enough,” she said, meaning it, and loving the shudder that went through him. Then he released her and began gathering the last of the gear.

  “I think David likes Jessica,” she said, trying to control the need that was rising in her as she watched him move with that smooth, economic grace.

  “He’d better watch out for Gary, then,” Luke warned. “He’s like a grizzly when it comes to protecting those girls.”

  Amelia smiled. “I like him. He’s a genuinely good guy.”

  Luke nodded as he stacked everything away in a locker. “He let me leave at the height of the season, when he couldn’t really spare anyone, no questions asked.”

  “I’m glad he did,” she said softly.

  Their gazes locked. “And unless I miss my guess,” he said, his voice rough, “once he notices we’re gone, he’ll keep David so occupied he won’t even miss us.”

  “Now that’s a friend,” she said.

  By the time they reached his small cabin, they were already at a fever pitch. Amelia began to tug at his shirt before he even had the door closed and locked; she’d lost her shyness about this days ago, when he’d told her quite bluntly nothing that turned him on more than her being so hungry for him she couldn’t wait.

  They left a trail of clothing across the living area, kissing each other fervently as they went, and were naked by the time they hit the door to his small bedroom, their hands busy searching out those special places they’d discovered with hungry caresses, as if they’d been apart much longer than a single week.

  They went down on the bed hard, grace and care forgotten, finesse abandoned as they sought the shortest path to what they so desperately needed. In unspoken agreement Amelia lay back, pulling Luke with her, barely giving him enough time to handle protection. She moaned as he slipped between her legs and she felt the thick, blunt hardness of him and knew he was as hotly aroused as she was. She was on fire; she felt as if she’d been an eon without him, and she was in no mood to wait any longer.

  Luke responded to her urgency with his own, taking only a split second to guide himself and then plunging home in one hard, swift stroke. They both cried out, and for one short, intense moment they hung there, breathless, feeling the rightness of these two bodies locked together.

  And then the blaze ignited. Luke began to move, and Amelia moved with him, reaching, clawing, climbing.

  It hit them hard and fast, on his third stroke. Amelia, startled by the swiftness and fierceness of it, cried out his name as her body convulsed. The moment her muscles clenched in that racking spasm of pleasure, Luke slammed into her once more, then let out a throttled groan as he clutched her so tightly it should have hurt but instead felt wonderful. Her name broke from him in a stunned voice as he exploded along with her.

  He collapsed atop her, his breath coming in harsh, broken gasps. Amelia felt another echoing pulse of that eruption, her body tightening again, and Luke shuddered in response. For a long moment the only sound in the small room was their rapid breathing.

  “Wow,” Amelia finally managed, albeit weakly.

  Luke lifted his head, looking, for the moment, as stunned as she had sounded. He swallowed; then came another set of quickened breaths. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, shaking his head.

  That counted as a wow, Amelia decided.

  When Luke finally rolled away from her, he did it with a jerky, awkward motion that was totally unlike him. He sat on the side of the bed for a moment, then stood. He walked over to the single window in the bedroom and stood looking out over the rushing water. Amelia watched him, loving the way the light came in the window and gilded his body, making him look like a beautifully carved statue, all gold and dark in the sun.

  Slowly, as the dizzying fog lifted, she realized he’d moved in that same disjointed way when he’d walked across the room. She sat up, the tiniest of furrows appearing between her brows. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, remembering lessons learned. And at last he spoke.

  “This place saved my life, Amelia. Until I found the river, I w
as just existing. Too many times I used to wonder why, used to think both the world and I would be better off if I didn’t. Every day was the same. There was nothing to look forward to, not one damn thing that made me welcome a new day.”

  She hurt for the boy he’d been. But beneath that ache, although his words weren’t particularly ominous, an uneasiness began to bubble inside her. She grabbed for something to put on; she might be shockingly brazen with Luke, but she wasn’t quite up to standing naked in front of a window yet, even if the likelihood of being seen was virtually nil. She had the T-shirt half on before she realized it was Luke’s. It was still warm from his body, carried his scent, so she finished pulling it down.

  “Then the river became my life. It’s what gives it meaning. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

  The ominous feeling grew, and Amelia suddenly realized the real reason she’d felt the need for clothing: for protection. He was talking gently, almost pleadingly. As if begging her to understand.

  And she did, all too well. He was making it as clear as he could that this was his life. And the next step was no doubt to explain that she had no part in it. The knowledge hit her like a blow; this was why he wouldn’t even look at her. The only thing she could think was that his timing stunk, no matter how he might try to let her down easily, to do it after the kind of explosive passion they had just shared.

  She sat on the edge of his bed, wishing she trusted her legs enough to move, to run, to escape what she was very much afraid was coming.

  “I could live on another river,” he said. “Maybe not even on a river, but close. But I could never, ever live in Santiago Beach again. I just can’t, Amelia. I don’t ever want to go back there.”

  So there it was. She should have known, she supposed. She’d been a fling, a distraction when he’d been stuck in ancient history, but now he had his old life back, and she wasn’t part of it.

  With an effort greater than it had taken to face Snake, Fargo and the rest, knives and all, she gathered the shreds of her poise around her. She couldn’t let him see how much this hurt. She wouldn’t. No matter what it cost her.

  “I understand,” she said stiffly.

  He turned from the window then. For an instant she broke and let herself look at him, drinking in the sight of his powerful, beautiful body, wondering how long she could live on the memory.

  She turned away, gathering up her jeans and underwear, tugging them on haphazardly. “I’ll go back to the lodge. And I’ll pass on tomorrow, thank you. I’ll take David home as soon as you’re back.”

  Despite her efforts, her voice was strained. She was no good at this. How did more sophisticated people do it, have an affair and walk away so casually? How did they hide the pain? Didn’t they—

  “Amelia?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “It’s all right.” It wasn’t. It would never be all right.

  He grabbed her shoulders, turned her to face him. When she still wouldn’t lift her gaze, he tilted her head back with one hand, gentle but insistent. She looked at him finally, surprised to see he looked a little disturbed himself.

  “Is Santiago Beach that important to you?” he asked. Amelia drew back slightly, puzzled. Luke let out a weary breath. “I know you’ve lived there for a few years, and it’s your parents’ house, and you’ve got the store, I know all that, but…it’s not like you were born there, is it?”

  For a moment she just stood there, barefoot, dressed in her jeans and his shirt, looking at him. “What,” she said slowly, “does where I was born have to do with anything?”

  Luke released her then, grimacing disgustedly. “God, I knew I’d screw this up.”

  He seemed to abruptly realize she was dressed and he was not. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, still with that jerky, nervous motion that was so unlike him. At least now she knew why, she thought painfully.

  “Screw what up?” she finally asked.

  He straightened and raked a hand through his tousled hair. Tousled by her eager, clutching hands. She fought down a wave of now unwanted heat as she waited for him to answer. It took him what seemed like forever.

  “I guess I should have thought more about where to start. I was going to tell you about all the people who use River Park as a starting place for backpacking or camping trips. The experienced rafters or kayakers who head out on the river on their own, because they like the solitude over a group.”

  He was sounding like he had with David, instructional, explaining the differences between a paddle raft and an oar raft, a hard-shell kayak and an inflatable. Or, she thought rather more grimly, like he had when warning his brother not to get cocky, that in one El Niño-driven year thirteen people had died from lack of judgment, tackling rapids they’d had no training for, or with inferior equipment. That was about how she felt right now, adrift in a raft she had no idea how to steer.

  “And you were going to tell me this because…?” she prompted when he didn’t go on.

  “I just… I mean, these people, they’re pretty much roughing it. Not the ones in the big RVs, I mean the real campers. They might have a radio, but no TV, and after a long day of hiking, they’re ready to unwind and relax. And most of them do it with a book.”

  Amelia went still. The point of this had something to do with her, obviously, but she couldn’t for the life of her see what it was.

  “Thing is, a lot of them forget about that until the last minute. They’re always asking us if there’s anywhere around they could get a book or two. And there’s only a little rack in the grocery store up in town, and most of what’s there is as old as Davie.”

  Her breath caught. “Luke—” she began, but now that he was rolling, there seemed to be no stopping him.

  “There’s a little storefront that’s vacant, right next to the grocery, where most people go before they start out. And rent’s pretty cheap here. You could move your stock, couldn’t you?”

  She stared at him as it finally got through to her. He swallowed tightly and finished in a rush.

  “I talked to Gary first thing when I got back yesterday. He said he’d sell me the plot the cabin’s on, and I could expand it, add plenty of space, whatever you wanted. It’d take a while, but—”

  “Luke McGuire!” she nearly shouted. He shut up, startled. “What, exactly, are you asking me?”

  He let out an exasperated breath. “Cut me some slack, will you? I’m no good at this, anyway, and I’ve never asked anybody to marry me before.”

  All the tightness in her chest, all the emotions, all the tears that had built in her in the past few minutes, were released at once. Her eyes filled, and she sat down suddenly on the edge of the bed.

  Looking worried, Luke knelt beside her to look up into her face. “Amelia? Are you crying? I know I come with a lot of history but I didn’t think that mattered to you.”

  She looked at him, a slow, brimming joy welled up inside her. The adventurous spirit he had called up in her burst free of the last restraint. There were, she realized suddenly, more ways to settle down than her parents’ quiet, sedate way. She knew there would be difficult times, but they would tackle them like Luke tackled difficult rapids.

  She smiled at him through her tears. “Does this mean I can keep the shirt?”

  He gaped at her, sitting there in his Whitewater West shirt. Then a slow, lazy grin curved his mouth. “Only if you say yes.”

  “I like your blue one, too,” she said thoughtfully.

  Luke burst out laughing. “Honey, you can have any shirt of mine you want.”

  “All of them,” she decided, looking at his bare chest. “That way you won’t have any to wear.”

  It became a deep, joyous belly laugh, and Amelia thought it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. “I’m going to take that as a yes,” Luke said.

  “Oh, please do.”

  She leaned forward then, and kissed that spot she particularly liked, where the taut, fit muscles of his abdomen met. She felt him suck in his breath,
then let it out again on a gasp as she moved upward and flicked her tongue over his nipple.

  It was much, much later, as she lay sleepily snuggled next to him, that she knew they’d both found the right kind of paradise.

  Epilogue

  Amelia McGuire tapped the big envelope with her name scrawled on the front in a bold, looping hand against her fingers thoughtfully. When Charlie had dropped it off at the store this morning, while Luke was out on a one-day run with some return Whitewater West customers, he’d commented on the postmark, which had set her heart to thrumming.

  When? she wondered. When should she tell him? He was due back any minute. Should she do it now?

  She lifted the flap and pulled out the letter once more. She didn’t need to read it again; she already had most of it committed to memory, anyway. Instead she pulled out the photograph and stared at it. And as had happened every time since she’d first seen it, her eyes brimmed with tears.

  It had to be special, she thought. As special as this was. And she hastily began to plan.

  When Luke arrived back late in the afternoon, he was startled to find their little table set up out on the porch, with tablecloth, dishes and candles.

  “I thought we could enjoy the sunset,” she told him.

  In the year since she’d left her old life behind and started a new one with him, she’d done this periodically, both because she herself enjoyed it and to show him that she had no regrets, that she was coming to love this place as much as he did. She even made river runs with him every couple of weeks, learning from him on the water, unceasingly amazed at the depth of his knowledge and skill. And proud of him for the way he had continued to see his brother, until his mother had resigned herself to visits every few months.

  And while sunsets weren’t quite as spectacular here as they were on the coast—in fact, sunrises were much more amazing—they still enjoyed unwinding at day’s end together like this. Soon, when the construction was finished, they would have a deck on the river to do this on, but for now, this would do nicely.