Feels Like the First Time

by Marina Adair

  Hawk turned back to the ladies, all of who were giving him a stern look. “What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”

  Concern filled Bitsy’s gaze. “The only reason a woman would be doing heavy lifting in shoes like that was if she’d been wronged.”

  Hawk turned back to watch Ali disappear back into her shop, only to return dragging another keg. “And you assume I’m the problem?”

  The women shared a secret look, followed by a giggle that made Hawk’s jaw clench. It was Fi who spoke. “Honey, you’re a man, you’re always the problem. Now make us proud, and go down there and apologize.”

  Completely confused, Hawk looked back toward the alley. Ali was halfway between their properties, her breathing labored, those little legs of hers really working as she tugged one keg after another across the asphalt. She looked a little ragged, a little sweaty, and completely sexy.

  Hawk rested a hip against a tree and took a moment to enjoy the view. Every time she went to give the keg a pull, that heart-shaped ass of hers leaned way back, pressing so hard against her pants, he could make out every curve. It wasn’t as inspiring as his dream had been, but it was a close second. Plus, it was proof that she was back in town and they could get on with that talk they had coming.

  All that huffing and puffing had him wondering, though. Maybe the ladies were right, and he’d somehow messed this up. A thought that had his smile fading, until Ali looked his way and stopped short at the sight of him standing there in jeans and bedhead.

  But instead of laughing at waking him up, she gave a shy little oops followed by a wave.

  Hawk threw his head back and laughed.

  “You ladies go on with your theories, but I wouldn’t put any money on them,” Hawk said, strolling toward his keg thief. “She’s isn’t mad.”

  “Then what’s she doing?” Fi called out.

  “I think she’s flirting,” Hawk chuckled to himself as he walked down the alley.

  He reached the stack of kegs and kept going until he was in her direct path. She was back to business and didn’t notice him until he was right behind her, lifting the keg out of her hands.

  “Hey, I was moving that,” she said, looking up at him and—damn—the woman was adorable.

  Her hair was in one of those cute ponytails she favored, her face was morning fresh and makeup free, and her expression was indignant.

  “I can see,” he said, lifting it up with one arm. “But I can get the job done faster.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeing reason. And when those big mossy eyes met his from beneath her lashes, he felt everything inside him man up and take notice. “Carry on then.”

  Hawk moved the keg to the docking bay and stacked it next to the others. “Is that all?”

  “Yup. Sorry if I woke you,” Ali said. Only she didn’t sound sorry at all. She sounded guilty.

  “You didn’t wake me, the alarm I set on my docking bay did,” he said, reaching up to dismantle the blinking red light. “What are you doing?”

  Ali’s gaze, which was on his bare chest as he stretched to reach the alarm, jerked up to his face. And she sputtered.

  “I meant with those.” He pointed to the kegs with his chin.

  “Oh.” She straightened and smiled, big and proud. “I’m giving you your kegs back?”

  He pulled the cable out of the electrical plug and stuffed it in his pocket. “And why would you do that?”

  “Well.” She took a big breath, as if she’d been contemplating the meaning of life, and giving him back his kegs was the answer. “I don’t think it’s right to keep your stolen kegs anymore.”

  He grinned. “You didn’t seem to have a problem holding them hostage a few weeks ago.”

  “Right,” she whispered to herself, then squared her shoulders. “Well, at that time, we were just friends, then we became kissing friends, and now we’re sexy friends and it doesn’t feel right to hold on to your things without your permission.”

  Hawk crossed his arms, sure to flex a little for her benefit. “Sunshine, most women would thank me for the best night of their life, then kiss me.”

  “I’m not most women,” she said, not sounding insulted at all.

  A truer statement had never been made.

  “But if it would make you feel better.” Ali set her hands on his chest, and slowly rose up on the tips of her toes, her hips brushing against his thighs, then higher until Hawk’s stick was making a reappearance. When she still couldn’t reach his lips, she crooked her finger for him to come closer.

  Hawk didn’t need a second invite. His pulse raced harder and faster as he dipped his head until his mouth was hovering, and then she made the final move. And what a move it was. Ali slanted her head, taking his lower lip between her two plump ones, and gave a long, slow tug, the impact nearly knocking him to his knees.

  Only she wasn’t done. Oh no, his girl let it go with a pop, only to repeat the same sweet torture on his upper lip—this time using her teeth. And Hawk lost all good sense.

  Maybe he’d never had any around Ali. It would explain why it had taken so long for him to get to this point. With his hand on her waist and her tongue teasing his lips. Because had he known just how hard she would rock his world, he would have kissed her years ago.

  A round of applause and a few flashes went off in the distance, and Ali pulled back with a sweet smile. “Thanks, Hawk.”

  She started to go back down on her feet, but he pulled her up against him. “Thanks for what, sunshine?”

  “For being you,” she said softly, and Hawk’s heart rolled over and showed its soft underbelly. Because everything about this woman disarmed him. “And I really am sorry that I woke you.”

  He looked at that soft, sweet mouth and groaned. “I’m not.”

  Without warning, Hawk picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, then headed toward Main Street.

  “What are you doing?” she said, smacking his butt.

  “Finally getting some sleep…ladies,” he said as he walked past the Steppers and their flashing camera phones. Ali put up a fight the entire way up the stairs and into his apartment, but she was smiling while doing it.

  “What’s up with the shoes?” he asked as he walked down the hallway.

  “I was breaking them in. I figure if I could lug kegs in them, walking down an aisle will be a snap.”

  With a chuckle, and a smack on that fabulous ass, he tossed her on the bed, and before she could scramble up, he stretched out next to her and pulled her snug against him.

  With one arm he covered them with the blanket; the other was cupping her boob like he owned it. Then after nuzzling the back of her neck, he finally, finally closed his eyes.

  Damn, she felt good in his bed.

  Just as he was getting comfortable, his body settling into the idea of catching some much needed Z’s, Ali rolled over in his arms, her face inches from his. “Are we really sleeping?”

  He opened one eye. “Yes. And this time when I wake up, the first thing I want to see is sunshine.”

  Chapter 12

  Ali looked at her reflection, at the billowing yards of tiffany blue silk, and smiled. No matter how many people looked at her funny, she couldn’t seem to stop.

  The smile had started Wednesday morning, when Hawk had dragged her to bed, and lasted straight through lunch, when he finally let her come up for air. It stuck with her through shoe shopping with Bridget, and the argument over the Hump-Day post on Instagram: Stanley Cup’s Stick, MIA—although the town agreed on the Missing in part, there was heavy debate as to what the A stood for.

  Now she stood on a chair in the middle of Sweetie Pies, during one of the most competitive games of coupon bingo in history, and she was smiling so hard, her cheeks hurt.

  “I can’t believe you drove all the way to Boise to get this dress,” Bridget said, holding Ali’s hair up.

  “Of course she did, she’s a good sister,” Bitsy said, neck-deep in silk, her head stuck up under Ali’s dress.
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  “I realized how important this was to you, and you’re right, it is…a special day.” She refused to say once in a lifetime. “So I called the magazine and told them that I had to be on the road to the airport by six p.m. They moved the interview to before the photo session, so I can make the red-eye, arriving in Florida just in time for the family brunch at Jamie’s parents’ house.”

  “And your dress should fit like a glove,” Bitsy said.

  “Thanks, Ms. Cunningham, for doing this on such short notice,” Ali said to the small woman moving beneath the dress.

  Bitsy poked her head out from under the skirt and smiled around the needle in her teeth. “I’m no Raoul, but I’ve won the town’s quilting bee six years running. And if my hands are good enough to stitch a life-size wall hanging of the mayor,” the older woman whispered, “then I think I can hem a dress by next week.”

  “I-27,” a voice said over the loudspeaker, which was really a microphone hooked up to an old boom box. “I-27.”

  Bitsy paused, glanced at her card and screamed, “Bingo! I got bingo.”

  “Last time you called bingo, you had just put markers on the numbers that looked good,” Fiona accused.

  “I can’t help it if I pick winners,” Bitsy said, and with a promise to be back in a flash, the older woman marched her winning card up to the judges’ table. Leaving Ali and Bridget alone for the first time since their argument.

  “She’s right, you know, you are a good sister,” Bridget said, taking a seat on the chair and spooning off a piece of apple pie. “You made it all work.”

  Ali shrugged. She’d been making things work her whole life, so figuring out how to merge two schedules wasn’t as difficult as it sounded. Leaving her dad to his own devices for two days, that had been the challenge. But Bridget had assured her she’d keep an eye on Marty, and since Ali was working really hard on letting go of things that didn’t matter, so she could grab on to what did, she’d gone. Plus, it was a chance for Bridget to see just how far Marty had come in his recovery—and more important, how far he had yet to go.

  “How was he?”

  Bridget leaned back in the chair and laughed. “A handful. I had no idea how much help he still needed. If I didn’t remind him to take his medication, he’d just pretend he didn’t have to. And who tapes a Snickers bar under the coffee table?”

  Ali laughed, enjoying the connection that came from talking with her sister about Marty, rather than arguing. “I once found a candy bar taped to the back of the toilet tank. I told him if he was that desperate, he could have it. But now that I’m back, you can focus on the wedding.”

  “I didn’t mind being with him.” Bridget picked up an extra spoon and offered it to Ali.

  Ali took a bite, let the gooey goodness melt on her tongue. A little bite of heaven right there in Destiny Bay.

  “Dad said you took care of his flight and travel,” Ali said. “I know he doesn’t say much about his finances, but a flight to Florida would have been hard for him to afford.”

  The money he’d already spent on the party, the tux, the dance lessons had made a dent in his monthly allowance. Ali had paid her dad good money for his shop, and if Marty was careful, he could live off that and his retirement for a good long while.

  Bridget shrugged. “It was no biggie. Jamie and I decided that since we moved the wedding to Florida, we’d cover his costs. We’ll cover him, too. I mean, look out for him while he’s there. So I’ll fly out Monday and Jamie will bring Dad with him Tuesday.”

  Ali nodded, unsure how to bring up a topic that had been bothering her for a while now. How did she tell her sister that she needed help, without letting Bridget think that Ali couldn’t handle Marty’s growing needs?

  Ali would never want Bridget to feel obligated to pitch in; Marty deserved more than that. Just like she’d never want him to think that his illness was a burden on Ali.

  “Dad’s loved having you here,” Ali began, testing the waters.

  Disappointment darkened her sister’s eyes. “He’s spent half the time down on the boat.”

  And there it was again, her family’s incredible communication skills hard at work. Sometimes Ali wondered how they managed to stay together as long as they had. “Well, then join him on the boat.”

  Bridget rolled her eyes. “So you and he can bond over knots and wind speeds? No thanks.”

  “I won’t come over.”

  Bridget paused, spoon in her mouth. “Are you serious?”

  “Sure, I’ll come by to check on the groceries and his meds, but I’ll leave the rest of the day to you two. You can help him wash down the deck, or polish the handrails, whatever sounds fun,” Ali said, wondering why sharing always ended up with her left out. “I know he’s really enjoyed these last few weeks. And he’s looking forward to spending time with you at the wedding.”

  “Thanks,” Bridget said with a smile. “It means a lot. And you don’t have to worry about the groceries and meds, I can handle that.” Ali went to argue and Bridget held up a hand. “I’m already there, it’s silly for you to come out. Plus, don’t you have the project you’re working on for the Galleon Orchard?”

  Yes, she did, and it was due for delivery next week. With hours still left to go on it, Ali could use some quality focused time with the piece. But she wasn’t willing to risk everything they’d done in Marty’s rehab for a few extra hours. “He can be a handful, and it’s important that he sticks to the doctor’s plans.”

  “I did it for two days, I can finish out the week.” Bridget went quiet, and looked down at her pie. “Plus, it would be good practice for when he comes and visits us.”

  Appetite lost, and regretting the few bites of pie that were turning in her stomach, Ali set her spoon down. “He wants to come visit? When?”

  “Jamie and I have been talking to Dad about him coming to our place maybe one week a month,” Bridget said, and Ali felt sweat bead on her forehead. “It might be nice for him to get a change of scenery.”

  “Have you talked to Dad about this?” Ali asked, a strange panicky sensation working its way up her throat. “I mean, does he like the idea?”

  “Of course he likes it. He said the sail would do him good, especially to get him ready for when grandkids come along.”

  Ali was going to be sick. Sure, this was exactly the kind of help she’d been hoping for. The kind of relationship Marty had dreamed of. But instead of one big happy family, Bridget was asking him to come into her shiny new world. Alone.

  Not only wouldn’t she be a part of it, she wouldn’t be there to make sure her dad was taking care of himself.

  “Are you okay?” Bridget asked.

  No, she was one Kodak moment away from a complete meltdown. Surely, everyone could hear her heart thrashing against her chest, because really? Bridget thought that Marty was in any condition to sail to Seattle? Alone?

  “The doctor said it might be a while before he’s ready to go far on the boat alone.”

  “I know, Ali. I’m not a complete idiot,” Bridget said, crestfallen.

  Ali felt like a jerk. “I don’t think you’re an idiot, it’s just been a while since you’ve spent a lot of time with him. Two days is nothing, a whole week? He’s…” Ali searched for the right words to explain the situation, and settled on, “He’s different now.”

  “Which is why I want to spend more time with him,” she admitted. “Plus, Jamie will be gone a lot for work, and it gets lonely in that big house. Dad can have his own room. On the bottom floor so he doesn’t have to do the stair thing.”

  Marty would like that, and his doctor would like the idea of Marty relaxing. And Bridget had every right to want some time with her dad. Even if it did make Ali nervous. “I could drive him one way, at least until he’s cleared to drive the distance by himself.”

  “We’ll work it out,” Bridget assured her, repeating what their dad had said the other week, and Ali found herself smiling. Believing that maybe Marty was right, and this wedding was exactly w
hat the family needed to come together.

  To finally work together.

  “We always do,” Ali said.

  They both settled into comfortable silence, nibbling on the pie, when Bridget’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and smiled. “It’s Jamie.” She answered and put the phone to her ear. “Hey, baby.”

  Ali heard Jamie’s muffled voice, and Bridget looked up at Ali. “Hanging with my sis, and eating pie…No, she found the dress here and will bring it with her, but tell your mom she’ll make it to the brunch…The family brunch.” Bridget’s face fell. “No, it’s on Thursday morning…But it’s at your parents’ house.”

  Bridget held up a finger, then turned her back for privacy and whispered, “I understand, but you promised that you wouldn’t leave me alone with your mom and my mom.” She hovered further into the phone. “I know it’s important, but I worked really hard on this party, and your mom is so excited.”

  Ali could tell by her sister’s tone that she was excited as well.

  “No, I get it. I know, it’s what you do…yeah. I love you, too.”

  Bridget hung up and turned back to Ali, her eyes big and her smile bigger. “Jamie got a call from Nolan today. I guess he’s willing to meet and wants to do it after the shoot, thank you for the introduction.”

  Ali paused. “So while I’m flying out to Florida, the groom will be flying back to Washington?”

  “Ironic, huh?”

  Ali would have gone with sad. If it had been that important to Bridget that Ali be at every pre-wedding event, then she could only imagine how important it was to have her fiancé by her side. “Nolan is a pretty laid-back guy. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind meeting Jamie some other time.”

  “There is no other time. Jamie needs to get started on this project the second we get back from our honeymoon. So unless I want to spend a day or two alone on a boat in the middle of the Gulf, it’s better he gets it over with,” Bridget said, and there was a resignation in her tone that Ali knew all too well. It was the same thing Ali had seen as a child, every time she’d looked in the mirror.