by Nola Cross
Hawk ignored the way his gut clenched as he sized up the competition. The guy had three or four inches on him but was thinner, wirier. A runner type.
Yeah, I could take him.
He winced. Like that would solve anything.
Hawk shrunk further back into the dark corner, his hands clenched into painful fists. He shouldn’t have come. That was obvious. What had he hoped to accomplish there anyway? It was pretty clear that Desi had other things to think about besides spending time with a broken-down car mechanic.
He picked them out of the crowd again just to torture himself. In the low-cut cocktail dress she was stunning, more beautiful than he remembered. Sure, she had looked sexy and cute in his kitchen wearing her shorts and t-shirt, but this latest look was sleek and sophisticated, all grown up. He was blown away.
Why had he never seen it before? She was so out of his league.
All he could think about was getting out of there without her seeing him. Hugging the back wall, he started for the door.
“There you are!” Tracy appeared out of nowhere, grabbed his arm, and leaned heavily against him, her eyes unfocused. “I couldn’t find her.”
“Are you okay?” He stepped back a bit, hoping her body would shield him from the view of the dancers.
“Sure I am. Sure.” She leaned closer, squinting at him. “Hawk the Beautiful. Hawk the Magnificent. And the Yummy.” Champagne sloshed from her glass onto his shoes.
“Listen, Tracy, I gotta go.” He started toward the door again.
“But what about Desi? And Paul? Don’t you wanna meet Paul?”
“Paul?”
She nodded and took a sip from her glass. “Yep. Paul. He’s gonna be a doctor. Did you know that? He’s such a great guy. You’ll like him. I like him. Desi likes him too.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
“He’s moving in. Isn’t that cool?”
“Moving in?”
“Uh-huh. To Desi’s house.”
A strange white heat rolled through his body. Part of him knew there had to be more to the story, but Tracy was in no shape to explain things. And he was in no shape to hear any more about this Paul guy tonight. He just really needed to leave.
“Sorry.” He peeled her hand off his arm and waved his cellphone at her. “I just got a text from my neighbor. My cat is sick, and I have to get back right away.”
Concern creased her brow. “Oh, poor kitty.”
“Goodnight,” he said.
This time he made it past her and out the door. The stifling air of the reception hall gave way to the cool, dark April night, soothing his flaming cheeks, returning a spark of sanity to his thoughts.
He glanced over his shoulder. No one was following him. Good. He just needed to get to his car, back to his real life, his house, the garage. That’s where he belonged. When he let his mind flick back over everything that had just happened, all he knew for sure was that Desi had looked like she belonged in that tall guy’s arms.
He clicked the fob to unlock his car and slid into the seat, resting his head for a moment on his crossed arms. Unbidden, his head filled with a raunchy fantasy of Desiree pleasuring the guy the way she had pleasured him yesterday morning. The blood raged through him like a flash flood boiling down a dry creek bed. His ears were ringing too. He couldn’t think straight.
Why the hell did I come? What business is it of mine if she fucks another guy?
He wasn’t ready to make the kind of commitment she wanted. He had no claim on her heart.
So what was with this knife twisting in his gut?
Chapter 19
Desi scowled at Tracy across the roof of her car. “Trace, it doesn’t make any sense at all that Hawk would drive two hours to come to the party and then leave without talking to me.”
“I know, but I swear he was there.” Tracy held up three fingers as if taking a scouting oath.
“Yeah, well, what I think happened is you had too much bubbly and imagined it all. Come on. Get in and we’ll go get you some coffee.”
“Ugh. Good idea. I could use about a gallon this morning.”
They drove in silence for a minute or two, and then Tracy leaned toward her.
“I didn’t imagine it. It was Hawk. He was wearing a suit and everything. He looked so hot.”
“Uh-huh. You know how you get when you drink champagne.” Desi shook her head. Tracy had a history of not being able to hold her liquor, but this was the first time her friend had also been delusional. It just wasn’t realistic to think Hawk would show up at the engagement party when he hadn’t even bothered to answer the text she’d sent the day before.
“He asked where you were,” Tracy went on as if Desi hadn’t spoken, “and I went to find you. But you weren’t around anywhere.”
“Right.” Desi turned the wheel and they pulled into the short line of cars at the neighborhood Starbucks. Even though she’d had just two glasses of champagne herself, Tracy’s insistence on repeating her story was starting to give Desi a headache.
“Then he said his cat was sick and he had to go.”
“His cat?” How did Tracy know about Norman? For a moment Desi considered the possibility that it was all true, and then she shrugged it off. Lots of people had cats. It was just a lucky guess. “Let’s talk about something else, Trace. Like which bedroom do you want and what color would you like to paint it?”
Things could not be working out better with plans for the new living arrangements. Paul had come to the party last night and her dad had seemed to like the guy. He’d given the okay for them to go ahead and start getting the spaces ready for her two new housemates. She and Paul had had a chance to talk some things over in the quiet privacy of the coatroom, and he planned to start moving his stuff in at the end of the month.
“I’d like Dovie’s old room if that’s all right with you,” Tracy said now, “and I’m thinking a melon color with white trim on the closet door and around the windows. And of course I’ll have the carpet cleaned.”
“That’s a good idea,” Desi agreed. “You’ll have a nice fresh start in there.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask about the furniture. The bed and dresser.”
“I guess I assumed you’d be bringing your own, like Paul is doing. I thought I would donate Dovie’s stuff to the church sale next month.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea. Her taste and mine aren’t much of a match.”
Desi laughed as her car inched toward the ordering window. “What? You’re not into vintage?”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Well, no offense, but just kill me now.”
* * * *
The next few days seemed to dissolve as Hawk spent more and more time at the garage. He’d figured out how to pull on a pair of bulky work gloves over the silver ion gloves, and was now able to assist the guys with some of the less strenuous restoration tasks. Between work, Sarah’s visits, physical therapy, and doctor appointments, he was able to keep thoughts of Desi at bay for most of the day.
Evenings at home were not so easy. Reminders of her seemed to be everywhere, from the carefully folded clean laundry in his dresser drawers to the handwritten sticky notes still decorating the kitchen cupboards. On top of that there was the invitation to her father’s wedding, which had arrived the Monday following his ill-advised appearance at the engagement party. And the email she’d sent him two days later.
Hi, Hawk.
Well, Dad’s engagement party turned out great. Lots of people came. He and Seville seem happy together. He’s spending more and more time at her place, so I’ve been working on getting the house ready for my two new roommates to move in. Did I tell you Dad agreed to that? Of course you already know Tracy. I’d like for you to get to know Paul too. He’s a pre-med student, but he’s also into classic cars. He drives a ’65 MG. I think you two would get along great. I hope your physical therapy treatments are going well. Did you ever get those fancy gloves that Dr. Hunter talked about? Please let me know how you’re doing.
Thanks again for the beautiful roses.
Desi
So it was true. The tall guy from the party was going to move in with her. He slammed the lid to his laptop down and strode to the kitchen, almost running over Norman on his way. Working quickly, he grabbed every last sticky note from the cupboard doors and tossed them in the garbage. Then he erased her notations from the whiteboard. At least now he could cook and eat without having her memory right in his face.
After that he didn’t check his email for three days. There just wasn’t anything he could think of to say back to her.
Two weeks later Dr. Hunter released him to return to work full-time. His palms had scarred over and were just a little sensitive now, but thanks to the daily practice he’d put in doing his exercises, he hadn’t lost any function in his hands. Now he only wore his gloves at work as a protective measure.
The one downside to making a full recovery was missing Sarah’s visits. Over the course of his treatment, he’d grown fond of the nurse, and she’d made it clear she felt the same way. On her final visit she had promised to keep in touch. Knowing how life goes, he doubted they would, and that put a catch in his throat when he told her goodbye.
That evening, he and the guys went out after work for a beer to celebrate his recovery. Tony and Jim left early to go home to their wives, and he and Miguel ordered another round and a plate of nachos to share. Miguel leaned forward across the table, his dark eyes glittering with curiosity.
“So, my friend, how are things going with you and the beautiful Desiree? Has she been back to see you? Have you gone to see her?”
Hawk had been careful not to talk about Desi around the guys at the garage. She wasn’t any of their business, and he wasn’t about to set himself up for their ribbing, good-natured or not. His impulse at the moment was to smack the expression of feral interest from Miguel’s face, but of course he couldn’t do that in the busy neighborhood tavern. Maybe if he admitted part of the truth…
“We’re not in touch anymore,” he said. Miguel could hardly make rude comments about that statement, could he?
“Ah. Perfect. My sister Rosa is needing an escort to a dinner. I told her I would see if you were available.”
“A dinner?”
“Si. For her work. Some kind of annual stockholder’s thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on, amigo. You’re going to pass up a free seafood dinner at Seattle’s best dockside restaurant?”
“I wouldn’t want your sister to get the wrong idea about my intentions.”
“Too late.” Miguel grinned and took a long swig of his beer. “She’s had wrong ideas about you for years.”
“And that’s just why it’s a bad idea.”
“Or a great idea.” Miguel’s dark brows waggled.
“I don’t think so,” he said again. He cast about in his mind for some new topic of conversation.
Miguel was quick. “Tell you what. I’ll have Rosa call you and give you the details. Then you can decide.”
“Don’t do that.” Now he was starting to feel railroaded.
“No? Too bad.” His friend squinted one eye at him and then abruptly changed the subject. “I got a good look at those plans for the new addition. The customer service entrance from Trager Street is going to be a big improvement.”
Relieved to be discussing something other than Miguel’s hot-blooded sister, Hawk nodded and dug into the plate of nachos.
Still, he wasn’t all that surprised when his phone chimed later that evening. The call came from an unfamiliar cellphone number, but the voice on the other end of the line was one he knew all too well.
“Hawk? It’s Rosa Sanchez. How are you?”
He almost groaned out loud. “I’m good.”
“That’s awesome. Hey, Miguel says you were talking about taking me to the company dinner next weekend. That would be so awesome. Thank you!”
“I haven’t—”
“Do you have a nice suit?”
“I do, but—”
“Awesome. My dress is light blue. Can you wear a blue tie?”
“Rosa, I didn’t say I would go,” he blurted.
A long silence ensued, during which Hawk struggled not to feel like a complete ass. After a while she gave a deep sniff—was she crying?—and went on. “But I already RSVP’d we’d be there.”
There was another long pause, punctuated by more sniffling sounds.
Oh, hell.
“Fine,” he ground out. “When should I pick you up?”
“Next Saturday at five. The dinner’s at seven with cocktails before. We’ll need to allow plenty of time for the drive into Seattle. You know where Pike Place Market is, right?” A miraculous transformation seemed to have taken place; she was all sunshine now.
“Fine. Saturday at five. I’ll get your address from Miguel.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait. And don’t forget the blue tie.”
“Blue tie. Right.”
* * * *
With the wedding just a week away, Desi’s proverbial plate was more than full. She sat at the kitchen table on a Saturday morning studying the daunting task list in her phone. There were way too many unchecked boxes left to suit her. Flowers and cake to pick up. A final fitting of her bridesmaid dress. Her hair appointment and manicure. How was she going to attend classes, study for Friday’s quiz, and get everything done before next Sunday afternoon? For a small wedding it had certainly ballooned into an elaborate event.
Tracy sat across the table from her, nursing a cup of coffee. She’d moved in a couple of days ago and was still getting settled. Was it fair to ask her friend to help out when she was still living out of cardboard boxes?
Tracy must have been on the same wavelength. “Have you heard back from everyone who was invited to your dad’s wedding?”
“All but three people have responded.”
“Is one of those people Hawk, by any chance?”
Desi wrinkled her nose. “Good guess. I just don’t get it, Trace. Not one word since the roses. I’ve texted him and sent him two emails and nothing.”
“Unless you want to count him being at the engagement party. Just sayin’.”
“Are you going to stick to that crazy story of yours forever?” Desi fixed the other girl with a grumpy frown. She was tired of hearing about how hot Hawk had looked in his suit, especially since it had all been a figment of Tracy’s champagne-soaked imagination.
Tracy leaned across the table. “Well, what if—just for one second—you consider that maybe it isn’t just a story. What if he was there for real? Is there anything he might have seen or heard that could have pissed him off and made him leave?”
That idea had never occurred to Desi, since she still hadn’t accepted Tracy’s story. She thought it over now and couldn’t come up with anything that might have upset Hawk. Besides, the whole idea was just silly. He wouldn’t have made the trip there and not said something to her, no matter what he might have witnessed. They were better friends than that, weren’t they? She had thought so. But that was before he’d shut her out completely.
What was going on?
Again she remembered how eager she’d been to waken him that last morning, to show him how much she wanted to be with him, even though he wasn’t able to reciprocate. He had seemed to enjoy himself at the time. But maybe that had all been an act. She cringed as she left the table and put her dirty coffee mug in the sink. Maybe the awful truth was she was just that bad at oral sex.
* * * *
Nobody had said anything about interminable speeches. Hawk shifted on the straight-backed dining chair and pretended to take a sip from his long-empty water glass. He had to admit that the extravagant seafood meal had been delicious, and with the three other couples at the large, round table Rosa had been unable to get too personal with him. That had been a relief, because on the drive there she’d been flirty as hell. He’d begun to regret getting roped into the whole affair and planned to make an excuse to leav
e as soon as dessert was served. But he hadn’t expected the last hour’s procession of gabby vice-presidents all patting themselves on the back and expounding on how well Gingham Tech had done the past year.
Rosa was a lab assistant for the computer chip manufacturer. He doubted she was listening to the speeches either. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when something warm rubbed against his ankle. He almost jumped out of his chair. Glancing down, he discovered she had removed her stilettos. Silver toenails gleamed in the darkness under the table as she pushed his pant leg higher. About the same time, her hand closed on his lower thigh and squeezed.
Keeping a poker face, he removed her hand and set it back in her own lap. “Not now,” he whispered, mindful of the other couples around them. He shuddered inwardly to think Rosa’s co-workers might get the wrong impression about their relationship.
Her cheeks colored and a happy smile bloomed on her too-red lips. “Okay. Later,” she whispered back.
“No, I mean—”
The room erupted in applause as the final speaker thanked them all for coming and wished everyone a safe trip home. Hawk was the first one in the room to rise. Then he had to wait as Rosa slipped her shoes back on and gathered her sequined bag and wrap.
In the car, things got trickier. He’d no sooner turned the key in the ignition than her hand was back on his thigh.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? I thought you said later. Now is later.” She turned in her seat and leaned toward him, making sure he got an eyeful of her more-than-ample cleavage in the low-cut blue dress. One sneeze and she’d be popping out of the thing, he was sure of it.
Averting his eyes, he threw the SUV into reverse and backed out of the parking space, just missing a zippy red sports car that came out of nowhere behind them. The close call threw him for a loop. Putting the gear back in Park, he blew out a sigh of relief. Just as he got himself collected, Rosa lunged forward and planted a big, wet kiss on the side of his mouth.
