Hawk's Promise

by Nola Cross

  The next thing he knew, her hand was on his cheek, turning him into the kiss. Oh, hell.

  For a second or two he sat ramrod straight, not resisting but not participating either. Maybe she’d give up and quit if he didn’t respond.

  And then out of nowhere he remembered those voices in the coatroom, that familiar, sexy laughter, and a spear of pain pierced his chest. Desi wasn’t sitting around waiting for him. She had moved on. He needed to do the same. Why not start with Rosa? She was cute and fairly smart, and she’d made it clear she was available.

  He relaxed his mouth and allowed himself to return the kiss, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. It was some overpowering tropical scent that complemented her gold skin and dark hair, and it swirled around them in the close confines of the SUV, making him feel as if he’d just downed a couple of whiskeys. She’d unbuckled her seatbelt by now and scooted closer to him, pressing her breasts against his arm. The nearby streetlamp threw a harsh, bluish light on the soft mounds, making them look almost artificial.

  “Oh, Hawk,” she moaned, pushing her tongue between his lips.

  The woman sure knew what she was doing when it came to kissing, he thought as his traitorous body began to respond. Her tongue stroked against his and he let himself deepen the kiss, exploring her small, hot mouth. He hardly noticed when she reached over and turned the key, shutting off the engine. From somewhere came the vague realization that the rear of the SUV was still sticking out into the traffic lane. It seemed like something he should worry about later.

  After a moment she put her hand over his and guided it to her breasts.

  “Touch me, Hawk. I know you want to,” she breathed.

  Out of curiosity more than anything he gave one heavy globe of flesh a light squeeze, skimming his hand over the slippery blue fabric. The next thing he knew she had pulled down the stretchy bodice of the dress, and his fingers came into contact with bare skin. Was that an erect nipple beneath his palm?

  “Mmm. Yes.” Her purr was followed by a renewed frenzy of deep kissing.

  And then she grabbed his cock.

  He reared back. “Whoa!”

  “What is it?”

  “We can’t do this, Rosa.”

  “Why not?” She stuck out her lower lip and batted her eyelashes at him as she stroked his growing erection.

  Was the woman batshit crazy? “Well, for one thing we’re in a public parking lot.”

  “Okay. Let’s find a hotel. That way we’ll have all night to get to know each other. I’ll show you an awesome time, Hawky.” Her clever tongue found its way into his ear.

  To his chagrin, his slacks tightened even more under the skilled movement of her fingers. Holy shit! He had to stop her now.

  Resisting the rude urge to push her away, he lifted his forearm, creating a barrier between them. “No hotel,” he said.

  “You wanna blow-job then? I can do that right here. Everyone says I’m great at it.” She ran her tongue in a provocative circle around her lips and smiled at him as she fumbled for the zipper on his slacks.

  As he stared down at her, his thoughts whirled. In spite of his body’s automatic response to her attention, there was no way he was letting Rosa into his pants.

  There was just one woman he wanted.

  With that stunning realization, it was like a bomb went off in his heart and a cascade of images tumbled through his mind, all featuring Desiree: Desi cooking in his kitchen, tendrils of dark hair curling on her slender neck; Desi feeding him chocolate cake, bandaging his hands, organizing his medications like a real nurse. Desi’s sweet, soft mouth doing amazing things to his cock.

  He put his hand over Rosa’s and moved it back to her lap. “Rosa, the truth is I’m in lo—that is, there’s someone else.”

  “You mean that girl from Portland? Dizzy or whatever her name is? Miguel told me all about her. He said you guys broke up.”

  “I guess you could say that, yeah.” Fool.

  “So what’s the problem? I’d never send you away, Hawky. If Dizzy was stupid enough to do that, then she deserves to lose you.”

  He didn’t answer. He started the car again and backed out into the street, then headed for home. After a minute or two Rosa shrugged and scooted back to her side. From the corner of his eye he saw her adjust the neckline of her dress and buckle her seatbelt. Then she gave a deep sigh and took her cellphone from her purse. In a moment she was absorbed by whatever was on the little screen.

  He’d no doubt catch hell for this from Miguel, but at the moment he didn’t care.

  It was a long hour’s drive in the darkness back to Tacoma. Keeping his eye on the flow of traffic around them, he let his thoughts drift, his mind filling with a daunting list of self-damning realizations. Rosa had assumed that Desi had bailed on him, when he was the one who’d run out of that reception like a twelve-year-old schoolboy.

  Coward. That had been his way forever, the way of his father too. When things get tough, the Ironcloud men get out. Disappear. Pretend it doesn’t matter. Wasn’t that why he’d joined the army? And why he’d re-enlisted even though he suspected his mom needed him? His belly roiled with self-disgust. Maybe his mom would be alive right now if he’d stayed close by, making sure she saw the doctor when the symptoms of cancer had first appeared.

  The awful truth began to sink into his soul: he loved Desiree. He loved everything about her—her big heart, her laugh, her wit and intelligence. Not to mention her beautiful body. It had taken just a few minutes in the company of someone else for him to see that with clarity.

  Fine lot of good it did him to realize that now. It was probably too late. She was no doubt thrilled to be hooking up with Paul, the future doctor. Maybe the two of them would open their own medical clinic or travel together to third world countries, bringing medical care to the indigent. It sounded like something Desiree would want to do, help others.

  He had nothing to offer her but a pre-war Craftsman bungalow, an old striped cat, and a stake in his garage. He wasn’t much of a prize.

  Chapter 20

  The day of the wedding dawned warm and sunny, unusual for late April in the Pacific Northwest. Muttering a prayer of thanks to the weather angels for the small miracle, Desi came downstairs early and crept into the kitchen, careful not to wake her dad who was asleep in the living room. Seville had invoked the old tradition of the groom not seeing his bride on their wedding day, so Jordan had returned to spend one last night on the old leather couch.

  Desi put on a pot of coffee, scrambled some eggs, and made toast for the both of them. Minutes later she stood over her slumbering father, marveling at the change in him. The gaunt look was gone from his cheeks. Even his arms and legs had filled out some. His hair and beard were always neatly trimmed now and his eyes were clear. Could it be true that all this time—through so many years of addiction and shame—all he had needed was to feel loved?

  “Bless you, Seville,” she whispered just before she leaned over and touched his shoulder. “Dad? It’s time to get up.”

  One eye cracked open.

  She set his cup down on the coffee table next to the plate of eggs. “Hurry and eat your breakfast. I’ll let you have the bathroom first.”

  He stretched and sat up, his wooly hair tousled. Then he gave her a happy grin.

  “Today’s the day,” he announced. “Best day of my life aside from the day you were born.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. He’d never said anything like that to her before.

  “Really, Dad?”

  “True as dirt. I may not have showed you how I felt, but you’ve always been my princess, Desiree. You’ve always been my special girl. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” Tears welled in her eyes as she bent and gave him an awkward hug around the neck.

  “Okay. Okay.” His voice was gruff as he attempted to disentangle himself from her embrace. “Let me get at these eggs now before they get cold.”

  Desi sat down across fr
om him and nibbled her toast. After a moment her dad cleared his throat.

  “You heard anything from that young man of yours?”

  “What young man? Oh, you mean Hawk?” He wasn’t her young man. He’d made that pretty clear over the past month of dead silence.

  “Of course Hawk. Is he coming today or not?”

  “He didn’t RSVP. So no, I guess not.” The toast was suddenly so dry she couldn’t swallow.

  “Hmph. Too bad.”

  “Too bad?” Wow, it was a morning for surprises. Her father had never liked Hawk and made no secret of it. Why did he care whether or not Hawk came to the wedding?

  Jordan shrugged. “There was just something I wanted to mention to him.” He set his empty plate aside and stood. “Thanks for breakfast, Desiree. It’s going to be real different for me living at Seville’s place. But at least I know I don’t have to worry about you. You’ve got a level head on you, girl. You’ll be fine.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, she watched him disappear down the hallway to the bathroom.

  A few minutes later Paul emerged from his room, dressed in jogging shorts and a colorful t-shirt. He’d moved in two days earlier and had already settled in.

  “Good morning.” He grinned at her as he went to the kitchen sink to fill his sports bottle. “Great day for a run.”

  “Or a wedding,” she said.

  “Right.”

  So far it seemed as if Paul was one of those perpetually cheerful people who enjoyed buoying other people up. Tracy had been so smart to suggest him as a housemate. Everything was working out great with the new living arrangements. Everything was going great at school too. She’d just aced a pop quiz that half the class had failed. And her dad was like a new man.

  Overall, she’d have to say her life was amazing.

  Except for this thing with Hawk. Desi experienced a familiar, anxious squeeze in her belly as she wondered for the nth time why he wasn’t answering her emails. Whatever his reasons might be, he’d made it clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. After his caring guardianship of the past few years, it seemed so strange for him to disappear from her life. The only logical conclusion she could draw was that her unschooled attempts at making love to him had somehow put him off. A familiar wave of embarrassment washed over her. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time—scary but good—but it had cost her friendship with the man she loved.

  I’m such a chump.

  “You okay?”

  Paul’s look of genuine concern brought her plummeting back to the present. She managed what she hoped was a smile as she set her plate of uneaten eggs on the counter. “Sure. Fine. Just thinking about the reception this evening. Hoping we ordered enough shrimp cocktail.”

  “You can never have too many shrimp cocktail,” he said. “I can make a meal out of them myself.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be keeping my eye on you tonight.”

  He laughed. “In that dreamy piece of satin fluff you’ll be wearing, I’m pretty sure all eyes will be on you.”

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet?” Crap. She was threatening to tear up all over again. Good thing she hadn’t put on her makeup yet. “Are you sure you’re not straight, Paul? ’Cause I could get used to hearing compliments like that.”

  “Sorry. Taken.” He’d introduced Desi and Tracy to his boyfriend, Wesley, the day he moved in.

  “Oh, well. Story of my life.” She shrugged and gave him a little wave as he slipped out the front door.

  * * * *

  Hawk had just settled next to Norman on the couch, with a lunch of ham sandwich and a cold beer, when his cellphone rang. He scowled at the unfamiliar number. The area code was from Oregon, and he immediately thought of Desiree. He was hyper-aware that today was her father’s wedding. He let it ring four times before deciding to answer.

  “Hawk? It’s Jordan Taylor.”

  “Jordan! I was just remembering that today’s the big day.”

  “That’s why I’m calling. We haven’t heard from you.”

  Hawk felt a twinge of guilt mixed with irritation. He should have responded to the invitation, let them know he wouldn’t be there. But the truth was he’d been on the fence these last couple of weeks. Part of him wanted to go, to be around Desi again, even if it hurt to see her with some other guy. And part of him—his wiser self—knew it was time to cut his losses and let her go. She deserved so much more than he could give her.

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. I wasn’t sure I could make it.”

  There was a long silence. Hawk moved his sandwich out of the reach of Norman’s exploratory paw.

  “I think you should come,” Jordan said.

  “It’s not a good time. We’re busy at the garage.” It wasn’t a lie exactly; South Bay Classics had been jumping all week. Jordan didn’t need to know the business was closed on Saturdays.

  “You should come anyway.”

  He felt his blood rise. This conversation was starting to remind him of the old high school days, when Desi’s dad had made it a point to order him around, made his life miserable. “Why’s that?”

  “Desiree needs you here.”

  “She does?” Last time he checked, Desi was doing just fine without him.

  “That’s right. I’m tired of seeing my girl moonin’ around like a love-starved pup. She won’t admit it to me, but I know you’re the reason. If you care about her, you need to get your ass down here.”

  Okay, now he was pissed off. “Since we’re laying things on the line, Jordan, I don’t think you’re any kind of authority on love.”

  There was another pause, and then the older man chuckled. “Well, you’ve got me there. I was a rotten father to Desiree, and I treated you like shit too. And I’m sorry.”

  Wait. Is this really Jordan Taylor I’m talking to?

  “But here’s the thing,” Jordan continued, “what I know now is the love of a good woman can save a man. It can bring him back from whatever hell he’s put himself in.”

  “I’m happy for you.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “Listen, boy, whatever story you’ve been making up in your head about why you don’t deserve to have a good woman, you gotta realize it’s just not true. It’s all a load of crap, just keeping you down. You’re a fine young man, and my Desiree is as good as they come.”

  He brushed the other man’s praise aside. “What about this Paul guy? I heard he was moving in with Desi.”

  “So?”

  “So are they together, or what?”

  “He’s not the one she wants.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You need to talk to Desiree about that—in person.”

  Hawk growled in frustration. “I gotta hang up now, Jordan. Someone’s at the door.”

  “We both know that’s bullshit.”

  “Congratulations again on your marriage. I hope you and Seville will be very happy.”

  Before the other man could respond, he pushed the button to end the call. He sat for a moment, digesting the odd conversation. Jordan Taylor was the last guy on earth who should be passing out tips to the lovelorn, but somehow his words had felt true and compelling.

  Hawk fingered the feather charm, his absent gaze fixed on the trees outside his window. If he wasn’t such a loser in the relationship department, he might consider following the older man’s advice.

  * * * *

  Desi shifted her weight from one foot to the other, keeping the smile plastered on her face despite the cramp in her left calf. Next to her, the other two bridesmaids—Seville’s two grown nieces—fidgeted as well. The wedding party had been standing there for twenty-five minutes, motionless, as the write-your-own vows went on and on. Who knew that her dad and his fiancée were so sentimental?

  She glanced at the couple now and was stunned at the look of adoration her dad was beaming at Seville as he lifted her veil out of the way. She hardly recognized him.

  The preacher was wind
ing down at last. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jordan, you may kiss your beautiful bride.”

  The crowd in the little church broke into applause as her father took his new wife into his arms. His tenderness astounded Desi, and her eyes filled with tears. Somehow she managed to dab them away before they ran down her face. As she averted her gaze, a movement in the back of the church caught her attention. A man in a dark blue suit had just slipped in the door.

  Oh. My. God. Hawk!

  A low buzzing started in her ears. Her knees wobbled. It was all she could do to remain standing in her four-inch heels as prickles of perspiration drenched her chest and underarms. And then their gazes locked for a second, and her cheeks bloomed with a pulsing heat before he turned away and slid into an empty spot in the back pew.

  What was he doing there? For days she’d been struggling to accept that she’d probably never see him again. Her heart had ached, yes, but in a way it had been a relief not to worry about running into him today, on top of all the hoopla and the preparations she had been asked to help with. Now there he was, looking even handsomer and more intense than she remembered.

  Wait, were his hands still bandaged? She hadn’t had the opportunity to look. He must be healed by now or perhaps still wearing the silver ion gloves the doctor had promised. At least they would have that to talk about if he stayed for the reception.

  A joyous swell of organ music filled the room, and her dad and Seville began their walk back up the aisle together. Then it was Desi’s turn to link arms with her cousin Evran and follow the happy couple out of the church. Her heart was already leaping about like a caged animal. The closer she got to where Hawk was sitting, the more she was afraid she might pass out. Should she acknowledge him or ignore his presence? She decided to keep her gaze trained on her father’s back.

  Somehow her legs kept carrying her forward and breath kept moving in and out of her lungs. They were almost at the back of the church now, almost home free. Then, just before her dad passed through the arched doorway, she saw him lean a little bit toward Hawk and gave him a thumbs-up.