by Cat Johnson
Pitiful. That was the only word she could think of to describe this long-distance, one-sided, dead-end relationship with him. Just plain sad.
Emily rubbed her face hard with both hands, then focused her sleepy, bleary eyes on her email inbox. Frowning, she noticed that there wasn’t anything new from Hawk.
Fighting the disappointment, she left the other twenty or so emails from friends, family and spammers unopened and went to the cupboard to grab a coffee mug, making excuses for the lack of word from Hawk the entire way. She’d read online yesterday that there were bad rainstorms in Afghanistan. That must be it. No internet because of the weather.
Pouring the aromatic liquid into a large ceramic cup, Emily assured herself that tomorrow, the next day at the latest, she would find an explanation and an apology from Hawk. That she’d obviously become addicted to hearing from him every day was not at all reassuring.
With a sigh, Emily carried her coffee into the bathroom. She might as well shower and get ready for the big day. Emily let out a short laugh at that thought.
It was the day of the wedding. Not her wedding, but Katie’s. At least Katie and BB got to have a big day. Emily had started to doubt she ever would. Certainly not with Hawk. Most likely not at all if she didn’t get over her obsession with him and move on.
She grabbed her new navy blue dress and hung it behind the bathroom door so any wrinkles would steam out while she showered.
Emily shot the offending item of clothing a dirty look as envy overwhelmed her. While she wore her stupid blue dress today, Katie would be in a long white dress.
Okay, so as pregnant as she was, Katie wouldn’t be wearing a traditional white wedding dress with train and veil, but it was still a wedding dress. Katie would no doubt look beautiful in the champagne-colored, simple, chic dress. It totally suited her personality and the high empire waist accommodated her rapidly growing baby bump.
Of course Emily was happy for her friends, but she still couldn’t fight the depression she felt.
Hawk was a dirty rotten bastard who had slept with another woman the same night he’d made love to her. So why couldn’t Emily stop her heart from clenching each time she thought of him. If she didn’t feel so miserable all the time, she’d think she was in love with him, further proof of how pitiful she was.
What had started many months ago as physical attraction and perhaps infatuation had grown into something more as she read his words in her apartment each day.
Emily shook her head. If this was love, it sucked. Perhaps she was better off without it. She was definitely better off without him. If only she could learn to actually be without him. That would never happen as long as she used his daily emails as a crutch. But the thought of never hearing from him again sent her into a heart-racing panic attack.
With her head beginning to ache from lack of sleep and too much thinking, Emily stepped beneath the stream of hot water. Hopefully it would wash away her bad mood as well as all thoughts of Hawk so she’d be able to enjoy Katie and BB’s special day.
Emily needed to have her wits about her today, because after the nearly two-hour train ride to upstate New York, Emily would be serving as Katie’s maid of honor. With all of BB’s siblings and his team there, Emily alone would be representing Katie’s side.
BB may have won the battle to have the ceremony and luncheon afterward in his hometown in New York with his massive family and his best friends from Zeta in attendance, but Katie had still managed to brutally cut down the guest list to fewer than three dozen.
Maybe from among those there, Emily would meet a nice single man who would steal her heart and make her forget all about David Hawkins.
Not likely, but she could hope.
Hawk listened, uncomfortable as his first sergeant praised his heroism before pinning the medal on his chest. A frigging medal for saving the lives of five civilians during the Bagram bombing.
The problem was, Hawk hadn’t done anything. Pretty Boy Dalton and his Zeta boys had ridden in to the rescue. The most Hawk had done was relay Dalton’s damn instructions from over Emily’s satellite phone and then watch helplessly as they whisked Emily and the others away in the waiting helo.
Having to watch another man rescue his girl...talk about feeling impotent.
The only good thing about Zeta’s dramatic rescue had been, with Emily on her way to safety, Hawk was free to run to his tent and grab his weapon. It had felt damn good to finally have the M16 in his hands and be doing something, anything, besides just sitting there. He’d found Pettit and Wally in the nearest bunker and another piece of his scrambled world settled back into place.
The Black Hawk attack had done much to rattle the insurgents within the perimeter. It hadn’t taken long before they were all either captured or had fled. Hawk had helped when and where he could, always wondering about Emily’s location and wellbeing until he’d finally pinned down someone affiliated with the USO who could give him confirmation she was safe.
And that was the last he’d heard about her. Not one more word in months. That was no fault of his, because he emailed her every damn day. She never once responded, but he did it anyway. Every day, he held on to some small hope that there would be a response from her. Every day, he found instead disappointment. He finally realized exactly how she had felt when he hadn’t contacted her after Germany.
He’d screwed up once, but he wouldn’t do it again. So he wrote every day he could. He would continue to do so until she changed her mind or he got shipped home and could see her again in person and change her mind for her.
“You don’t look as happy as I thought you would, Sergeant. Something wrong?” His first sergeant draped his arm around Hawk’s shoulders like they were old drinking buddies.
“This is just all a bit unexpected.” Not to mention undeserved.
His commander laughed. “Most good things in life are, Sergeant.”
Like meeting Emily had been.
How the hell he had managed to screw it up so badly and so suddenly, Hawk still didn’t know. Being able to do nothing about it besides cool his heels for the remainder of his deployment might possibly drive him insane.
The sound of a helo in the distance captured Hawk’s attention. Tensing, he frowned. It sounded like Lou’s chopper, but he wasn’t due in anytime soon.
He squinted at the horizon until it came into view. “Could that be mail call already? Seems like we just got it.”
His first sergeant laughed. “You looking a gift horse in the mouth? Mail call and supplies can’t come often enough as far as I’m concerned.”
Hawk smiled. “Yeah, guess so.”
Lou swooped in fast and dropped the chopper in a messy landing. He came running across the camp straight toward them.
Hawk’s smile faded as instinct kicked in. “Something’s wrong.”
Taking off in a jog that turned into a full-out run, Hawk met the old man not far from where he’d landed.
“Lou. What’s the matter?”
Wheezing with what sounded like it could be his last breath, Lou gasped. “Satellite’s down. Couldn’t get word to you. I came to get you.” The breathless man shoved papers into Hawk’s hand.
He looked down and saw the American Red Cross logo on the letterhead and his heart stopped. AmCross orders only came through when family was dying or dead and the soldier needed to get home fast. And these orders had his name on them.
Hawk was anxious to get back to the States, but not like this. He tore into the envelope and skimmed down the page. He saw his sister’s name and his stomach twisted. She was the only family he had left in the world.
The first sergeant was next to him in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“My sister.” Hawk looked up, still in shock. “I have to get home.”
He knew that he had to move, had things to do, but he couldn’t seem to function. It seemed as if his brain had stopped working.
His commander took hold of Hawk’s shoulders and physically turned him bac
k toward camp. “Go. Throw what you’ll need in a duffle and get on that helo.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Hey there, Emmie.”
Emily glanced up from her desk as a familiar Australian voice from months past filled the room. In the doorway to her office stood the cameraman. Mel looked different, and pretty good actually, without the head-to-toe body armor and camouflage he’d worn in Bagram. He cleaned up good in boots, jeans and a white button-down shirt that set off his tanned skin.
“Mel. What are you doing here?”
“I was in New York for a job. Jai and I met nearby for a cuppa and he suggested I stop by and see you.”
She was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Mel reminded her of Afghanistan and the last time she’d seen Hawk.
“So how you been, love?”
Emily shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Keeping busy.”
Mel took a step closer and propped his jeans-clad butt on the edge of her desk. “Jai told me you still have dreams about the bombing.”
Emily scowled. “So much for confiding in Jai.”
“Don’t be like that, Emmie. He and I have been through it ourselves enough to know what you’re feeling. He’s just concerned about you.”
“I guess.” She sighed.
“Well, if you need to talk, Emmie, you give me a jingle.” Mel dropped a business card on her desk. “If I’m in the country, I’ll come running. If not, there’s always the phone or email.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“And if you wanted to give me a call to go out, I’d like that too.” Mel continued, golden eyes twinkling as he smiled at her.
Emily looked up at him with surprise. “Like on a date?”
He laughed and nodded. “Unless you’re still with Hawkins.”
Now it was Emily’s turn to laugh. “I don’t know what I am.”
“Well, love, I have a policy. If a woman isn’t sure if she’s with a man or not, that’s invitation enough for me.” Mel sobered and laid a hand over hers. “What’s wrong, love. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t look so sad.”
Mel read her too easily, and he already knew she’d slept with Hawk, so what the heck. Emily could use someone to talk to at the moment.
She let out a sigh. “The morning of the attack I saw Hawk coming out of Kerri London’s tent half-dressed. Mel, he must have slept with her...” She left the rest of the horrible truth unspoken. He slept with Kerri right after he was with me.
Mel looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you, love? Maybe not since it happened right before the bombing.”
“What happened?” Emily sat up straighter in her chair.
“Pettit found Wally plonked, starkers and arse over tit with an Air Force Sheila. With Wally in the cactus, Pettit ran and got Hawk out of the shower that morning and brought him to Kerri London’s tent.”
Emily’s heart began to pound. She didn’t understand half of what he had just said, but she grasped enough to know it was important. “Mel. Please, for God’s sake, could you speak English this once and tell me what happened again?”
“Sure, love.” Mel grinned. “Wally was in Kerri’s tent naked and drunk with the Air Force woman who was assigned as Kerri’s liaison. Sex on base with a woman he outranked could get Wally in huge trouble. So Pettit ran and pulled Hawk out of the shower. That’s why Hawk was coming out of Kerri’s tent early in the morning half-dressed. He was trying to keep Wally from getting court marshaled.”
That she understood, and it was wonderful. Wonderful and horrible at the same time. She’d ignored Hawk’s emails for months because she’d made the wrong assumption. She’d tortured both him and herself rather than just ask him.
“Mel, you know all this for a fact?”
“Abso-bloody-lutely.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He nodded. “Spot on. It’s a yes. Wally told me himself after I found him emptying the bourbon-soaked contents of his belly on the ground outside my tent. Pettit backed up the story. So there’s no need to chuck a spaz.”
“Yeah, okay.” Emily couldn’t interpret any more of Mel’s Aussie-speak. Her mind was already on Hawk. She had to email him, but she hadn’t heard from him in two weeks. What if she’d lost him? If only she could see him. If he was back in Germany maybe she could fly there, but Afghanistan...
Then another thought hit her. “Mel, I haven’t gotten an email from him in two weeks. What if something happened? Can you use your connections and check?”
He frowned. “Didn’t you know, love? He’s here.”
“What do you mean he’s here? Is that some sort of slang again?” She didn’t dare hope.
“No. I mean he’s here in the States. Emergency leave. He told me his sister was in the hospital for emergency surgery and there were complications. He got sent home to be with her since she’s his only living relative.”
Emily frowned. “How do you know this?”
“He flew home through Kabul. I saw him there when he was waiting for a flight out.”
A frantic feeling hit her. She had to get a message to Hawk that she was sorry before it was too late.
“I need to get on my computer. I have to look up his sister and get an address or a phone number. I have to find out where she lives. Shit, what if she’s married and has a different last name? I’ll never find her.” Even if she wasn’t married, how many Hawkins were there in the United States? Emily’s head was spinning.
“Wait. I know. Katie. I’ll call Katie. Maybe she can use her military connections. But she just had the baby and it’s still early. I don’t want to wake her up.”
Mel held up a hand. “Why don’t you let me see what I can do?”
Shaken and desperate, Emily nodded. She was willing to try anything.
Mel whipped out a cell phone that looked nearly as big and complicated as her laptop and punched a few buttons. He rose and walked closer to the door to speak. Curious, Emily had to fight the urge to follow him and listen in.
When a few minutes later she saw him take out a small notepad and pen, she nearly jumped from her seat.
Finally, Mel came back to her desk wearing a grin and holding a piece of paper.
“Is that—”
“His sister’s address and phone number.”
“How did you get it?”
“Connections, love.”
Finally, Emily got up the nerve and grabbed the paper he held out for her.
“Pennsylvania?” she read.
Hawk was in Pennsylvania. So close. Only one state away. “But what if he’s not still there?”
Mel shrugged. “I saw him a little less than two weeks ago. They wouldn’t send him back so soon. Not counting travel time, which can take days each way, they usually give the blokes at least a solid two weeks at home for emergency leave.”
Emily’s hopes surged. “But wait. What if his sister died? I can’t bust into her home looking for him while he’s grieving. Can I? Then again, maybe he needs me now if she did—”
“Emmie, dial the bloody number or I’ll do it for you.”
Glancing at Mel, she predicted he would do exactly that. She took out her cell phone and dialed the number. She noticed her hands were shaking.
“Hello,” a female voice answered the phone.
“Um, hi. I hate to bother you. I was actually looking for David Hawkins. I was told he might be there.”
“Can I ask who’s calling?”
“Um, it’s Emily Price. I worked with him, not in the Army, but he did a job for my marketing company—”
“Of course, Emily. He mentioned you. I have to say, it’s a pleasure to meet you, even if it is only on the phone. You’re the first woman in thirty years that I’ve ever seen throw my brother off balance.”
Emily swallowed hard. “Me? Are you sure he was talking about me?”
Hawk’s sister laughed. “Yeah, pretty sure. But I’m sorry to tell you, David’s gone already.”
Her heart fell. “He is?”
“Y
eah. He had to get back, so I’ve got a friend staying with me to help out until I’m totally back to one hundred percent.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks. And I hope you feel better.”
“Emily, wait. He doesn’t have a cell phone when he’s deployed, but he checks in with me a few times a day with his calling card. Give me your number and I’ll pass it along to him.”
But what if he was too mad at her to call? It didn’t matter. Emily had to take a shot. “Okay. Here’s my work number and I’ll give you my home and cell too.”
Not having a cell phone never bothered Hawk while he was in Afghanistan, or even in Germany. But while in New York City trying to find Emily and having to check in with his sister often, it really sucked.
He had pretty much memorized his phone card number and was very familiar with every working pay phone in the city. And now, leaning against the tiny metal shelf, pen and scrap of paper in hand, Hawk made his third phone call in the last hour. First had been to call his captain to ask him to contact Hank Miller and get Dalton’s number.
Then the call back to his captain to get the info he’d obtained from Miller. Armed with Dalton’s number, he was on his hopefully final call before the only one he wanted to make—to Emily.
“I don’t know about this, Hawkins. I don’t feel comfortable giving Emily’s information out. I mean, she never even told me you two had a history together.”
After all Hawk had gone through, Pretty Boy had the nerve to question his intentions toward Emily like he was her damn father. “Well, we do.”
“Maybe as far as you’re concerned. But Emily—“
Hawk took a deep breath to steady his temper. “Look, Dalton. I’ve still got more than half of my time left to serve in Afghanistan. I’m here in the States for another two days and then I’m gone again. But I’ll be back here as soon as Uncle Sam lets me. I’m not looking for a one-night stand.”
