by Jillian Hart
Easy. Her gaze had glued to Hawk and refused to move. She replaced the volume, chose the right one this time and moved into the aisle toward him.
“Victory.” He held up a book in triumph. “Now I won’t be bored on the flight. Hey, that looks like something my mom would like. Where did you get it?”
She pointed, not quite able to make her brain find the words. Maybe it was a delayed problem from her mild concussion. It was the only reason she could think of for her sudden aphasia. She had lost motor skills, too, since juggling the coffee, her purse and the book took all her concentration. She found her credit card and handed it to the kid behind the counter. An aisle away, Hawk grabbed a book, studied it with an unassuming nod and paced her way.
Something broke apart inside her, a barrier she had constructed a long time ago. The last fortification fell. The speakers overhead sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” and as the clerk shoved a credit card slip at her to sign, she felt her world shift. A quiet, sacred emotion ebbed to life within her—an intense, singular brand of affection she refused to name.
Shock rocked through her. When she signed her name, the letters were squiggly and didn’t look like her writing. Hawk approached the counter and stood next to her, handing over his merchandise to a second clerk, who greeted him and began tallying his purchases.
I do not love him, she argued with herself as she shoved the pen and receipt across the counter. It was impossible for her to love him. She simply would not allow it.
“Have a nice day.” Her clerk smiled at her, but his glance fell behind her shoulder, where another customer was waiting. She fumbled with the bag, the cup and her purse again, managing somehow to move out of the way.
“Great. One down, two more to go.” He joined her outside the entrance. “I still haven’t found the right thing for Pierce and Lexie. But we’ll trek on. Our spirits are high.”
What would life with Hawk be like? she wondered as they strolled to the next store. Unexpected. Joyful. Intrepid. She could not let herself picture her future with him. They were friends, nothing more. She would tell herself that until it was totally, entirely true.
“You’re looking a little pale. Are you feeling okay?”
“F-fine.” She was. There was no other alternative. “Where to next?”
“Look. A Christmas tree.” Hawk turned to the banister, gazing at the floor below where Santa sat in a red velvet chair and a long line of kids and parents waited to see him. In the middle of the plaza winked an enormous tree, dazzling with cheer and cuteness. But that wasn’t the tree Hawk pointed toward.
Across the way, in a nearly bare storefront, was a wishing tree, decorated with slips of paper hung by colorful ribbons. Most shoppers hurried by, without giving it a second glance. “Let’s go shopping for some kids. Want to?”
The words disappeared again. She nodded, struggling not to feel. She had to resist whatever this was threatening to take her over.
“Great. Mom always included gifts for the church’s charity tree in our Christmas traditions. After she lost interest in celebrating, my sis and I kept it up.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her through an oncoming throng of teenagers. “It’s something I do whenever I’m Stateside in December.”
“You know me. I think it’s a great idea. Chessie and I do the same thing for our church tree.” Her head rang but she was able to speak and walk at the same time. A major accomplishment considering the intensity of these new feelings. She was only slightly preoccupied as they searched through the names hanging on the charity tree. She watched him through the thick, fragrant boughs, concentrating as he read several requests, his amused reactions and the excitement on his rugged face.
“Here’s one. I’m taking it.” He unhooked a paper slip. “This kid would like a big yellow dump truck. As I’m especially fond of dump trucks, I know just what he wants.”
“I can see you as a little boy playing on a mound of dirt with your construction trucks.” Not hard at all to picture how cute he would have been, his dark hair longer and wind tousled, that cowlick at the crown of his head more pronounced. And those big blue eyes probably made his mom melt every time he trained them on her to ask for something. How could anyone say no to a face like that?
“What do you have there?” He sidled around the tree, sneaking dangerously close so that he could read the paper she held. “Oh, baby dolls. I have no experience there.”
“You had a sister. Didn’t she have dolls?”
“Well, let me rephrase that. I wasn’t exactly honest. My sole experience with dolls is very limited. Mostly hostage taking, kidnapping, ransom demanding-type missions.” He looked sheepish. “And before you say it, yes, I got into trouble big-time. Mom said a corner in the house is worn out because I spent so much time in it.”
“You? Getting in trouble? I can’t picture it.” They laughed together.
“It’s true. One corner of the living room is really dingy from me leaning against it all those years. I’m guessing you never got into trouble.”
“I never got very far being troublesome.” This man could make her laugh as nobody could. “Chessie was on the case. She was a very watchful big sister. The minute I stepped a toe out of line she was off to tell Mom about it.”
“Got to keep those younger siblings in line.” They laughed harder.
She pocketed the child’s name and searched for another. She didn’t know how it had happened, or the exact moment her soul had healed, but she was living again and laughing. If she was happy, that meant she could be hurt, too. She plucked another name off the tree blindly, her hand trembling. She didn’t want any more pain in life. She did not want to risk falling in love before she realized it.
Next to her Hawk chuckled at something he read. “This kid wants a big package of candy all to himself so his big brother can’t steal it from him. I’m surprised they wrote that on the request card. I’m going to find the best selection of chocolate and box it up for this fella. As penance for all the times I stole things from my little sister.”
She shook her head, liking him more by the minute. He would be a tough man not to fall for, and she refused to do it. Whatever happened, she would not surrender her heart to him.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m going to put this up right now.” Hawk tugged the store bag from his truck’s backseat. September’s street was alive tonight, with a caroling group serenading at the far end of the cul-de-sac. “Every other house has got at least one outside decoration up.”
“It’s late, Hawk. I’ll go plug in my tree lights and it will be festive enough. You don’t have to go to the trouble.” Cute. She really thought he would opt out?
“It’ll be fun.” He intended to stay until the job was done. There was more decorating to do. He was no quitter. “Hey, there. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, getting my shopping bags.”
“No, you aren’t.” He couldn’t believe her. He grabbed her bags before she could. “Please go turn on the porch light so I don’t trip over my own feet.”
“That’s something an Army Ranger does a lot? Trip in the dark?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be very good at my job.”
“So why did you say that?” She searched through her keys, but he caught her watching him.
Nice. Maybe things were progressing better than he thought. “I just wanted to make you laugh, sunshine.”
“And why is that?”
“Because when you’re happy, I’m happy.” He followed her up the steps and into the house. “Where do you want these?”
“Just put them anywhere.” She dropped her purse on the coffee table and hit the switch. Merry lights blazed on the little tree, chasing away the dark. She whirled to face him, more beautiful to him by the moment.
Yep, he was definitely in big trouble here. With every passing second, he loved her more. He didn’t know love could do that, increase exponentially until it felt too big to hold and too impossible to b
elieve. But standing here with her was real.
“Look.” He pointed to the ceiling. “Mistletoe.”
“How convenient. You decided to stand there on purpose.”
“True, but that doesn’t change the fact. We have to kiss.” He hauled her into his arms while the tree lights blinked as if in agreement. “Tradition.”
“And you think I’m a traditional girl?”
“I know you are.” The evening had been the best of his life. Being in her company, talking and laughing, had been priceless. Infinitely tender, he lowered his lips to hers. Just one brush of a kiss, that was all he meant, because he didn’t want to pressure her to feel something too soon. That might frighten her. He would die before he hurt her or scared her in any way.
Yep, he meant the kiss to be one light tender caress. Chalk it up to good intentions. But her fingers curled around his as if she were holding on, as if she were swept away, too, by the incredible evening and the closeness they’d shared.
When he broke the kiss, he thought he saw an answering affection on her dear face, but then she spun away and her hair hid her expression like a curtain, shielding him.
I love her so much, Lord. His heart opened wide with prayer and thanksgiving. Thank You for this time with her. Loving her was the sweetest thing he’d ever known.
All his life he had worked at keeping a safe distance between him and everyone else. His best buds and lifelong friends, Pierce and Tim, had gotten the closest. But that was friendship. This—his chest swelled, his soul expanded—this was something else entirely. Wonderful. Scary. Amazing. She had to love him back—in time. She was his future, his beloved, his everything. He knew it beyond all doubt.
“I’m going to go put up your new yard decorations.” His cheerful step knelled in the shadows. “Now you won’t be the Scrooge of the neighborhood.”
“I didn’t know I was.” Chuckling, she followed him to the door, but he was already hiking down the walkway, at one with the dark. She flipped on the porch light, realizing she’d forgotten that earlier. Probably because Mark Hawkins scrambled her brains. He short-circuited her system. His kiss was such perfection, it erased the memory of all other kisses that had come before and made her want to dream about a future with him—not that she was going to.
No, there would be no dreaming allowed.
“Where do you want ’em?” He kept just out of reach of the light like an intruder clinging to the shadows, like a thief come to steal her heart.
He was talking about decorations, and she was trying to hold on to her careful emotional balance. The foundation on which she had built the last two years of her life. She rubbed her forehead, fighting to think.
“I’ll try it along the walkway first, yeah?” Unaware of her struggle, he ripped open the box, the cracking sound of hard plastic ricocheted in the quiet. He extracted a stack of stars and their long white connecting cord. “If I march them across the lawn, they might compete with the tree. I have to say, that tree does look good from here. You know how to pick ’em.”
Could she banter back with him? No, because she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Her brain had ground to a halt out of sheer panic. Neither could she move out of the doorway. She stood half in, half out. The cool night air danced over her and she shivered.
“That doesn’t look half bad.” The shadow in her yard stopped to study his work. One white star rose up out of her flower bed. Hawk gave it an adjustment, as if it wasn’t standing straight enough for him.
You would think being unable to see him in the dark would make it easier. But no, her mind—the one that couldn’t think of a single word in the English language—remembered every line and hollow of his face, every curve and edge. She didn’t need light to know that with the angle of his jaw, he was frowning. And because he was thinking something through, a handsome crinkle would dig into his forehead.
That man could make her forget. He could make her want to believe. For a few hours tonight, he had. She had been like Cinderella at the ball, feeling beautiful as if she were in a gown and slippers, princess quality with a real live prince on her arm. Sure, they were only shopping, not dancing at a fancy ball, but the feeling was the same. The kiss had sealed it.
She didn’t want to stop believing—not yet. She wanted this evening with him to go on forever. Laughing in his truck, shopping on his arm, choosing dolls and trucks in the toy store with Hawk at her side had made her happy and alive and full of hopeful joy. Hawk’s kiss made her whole, even in the places she thought would always be scarred. New and powerful feelings beat against her defenses, wanting to be set free. Hawk had done this. He had walked into her life and made her love him.
No, she thought. I do not love him. I will not love him. I am in control of my heart.
“Hey, beautiful. What do you think?” He stood on the lawn, graced by the jewel tones of the Christmas tree winking through the window. He looked like a gift. He was everything she thought she would never find. Everything she was terrified of losing again.
“Just need to plug these in.” Like the athlete he was, he stalked through the flower beds, hurdled the porch rail and snaked the cord through the railing posts. Red, gold, blue and green light dappled him as he knelt in front of the big picture window. The stars on the lawn burst into majestic white, glowing with steady promise. He bounded to his feet. “Mission accomplished.”
“You were right. Those look great in the yard.” The decorations shone like hope in the dark, light chasing away the clutches of an endless night.
“Sure you don’t want any house lights?” He strolled toward her, fully illuminated, everything revealed—the crease in his forehead, the affection in his eyes and the memory of their kiss on his lips. “I could come back with a ladder.”
Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that kiss? Because it hadn’t been a friendly kiss. It had nothing to do with mistletoe and tradition and everything to do with what was budding between them. A romance.
She wanted to deny it. Friendship was not necessarily romance. Going Christmas shopping wasn’t specifically dating. But that kiss, that had been romantic. Sweetly, softly romantic.
“I could come back with dinner. Maybe I could grab some takeout.” Hawk leaned against the railing, appearing casual. But he wasn’t. He was asking her out on a date. On another date.
Just as today had been. Fear raked through her. She stumbled and grabbed the door frame for support. Her mind raced over all the times she and Hawk had been together—he’d brought flowers to the hospital, pizza to her house and flowers to dinner. He’d taken her out to eat, gone riding with her, told her about what he wanted from life—marriage and a family one day. That was not only dating behavior, but courting talk.
“September, are you all right?” Concerned, he came to her, his hands curling around the curve of her shoulder, his tall shadow falling across her, obliterating the light.
All right? She thought he needed her friendship. She certainly needed his. But that had been a fool’s path. From the moment he took her hand in the mine shaft, she had never been the same.
“Hawk, you are asking to come over with dinner out of friendship, right?” Her hands came up to land on his chest of their own volition. She ignored the secure feeling of being in his arms and the reliable thump of his heartbeat beneath her palms. “It’s not a date?”
“Well, that depends.” His baritone dipped deep and low, infinitely tender. So tender it made every part of her soul want to dream of him. His grip on her tightened slightly, as if he wanted to draw her closer, but held back. “It can be a date if you want it to be.”
“What does that mean?” Confusion ripped through her. “Either it’s a date or it isn’t. Either we have a friendship or we don’t.”
“It doesn’t have to be that black and white. Couldn’t we just hang out and see where this goes? I don’t think we need to worry about labeling or examining it.”
“Then basically you are saying yes. It is a date. You just don’t
want to call it that.” She started to shake, feeling vulnerable as if a ledge at her feet had given way and she was falling. The painful crash was only a matter of time. A painful, shattering strike of bone to earth and rock that would destroy her all over again. Love hurt. It was as simple as that. Life was uncertain at best, and she did not have the strength to hurt like that again.
“It’s a friendly date.” Ever gentle, Hawk didn’t push. Calm, he didn’t move toward her to pull her closer into his arms. Nor did he let go of her. “I want to see you again, September. I want to hang with you.”
“You’re trying to make this casual, but it’s not.” She could see it now. A plea resonated in the cool air around them, a silent emotion she could feel from his spirit to hers. She could not deny the connection between them. A mysterious bond she had never had with Tim or anyone. A tie she had to break. “I agreed to being friends. You know that.”
“Have I ever asked anything of you other than friendship?”
No, she answered truthfully. But there was one thing that had not been friendship for her. “That kiss. That was not friendly. It might have started out that way, but it wasn’t how I ended up feeling.”
“I didn’t intend for things to go from friendly to serious in five seconds flat.” Sincere, ever honest, that was Hawk. “I’m sorry if it was too fast. We can hit the brakes. Keep it casual.”
“Go back to being friends?”
“Whatever you want, September. As long as you please let me stay in your life.” He didn’t falter, he didn’t back down. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“You mean that’s all you’re asking for right now?”
“Yes.” He winced, as if telling the truth cost him. “I’m here as a friend, September. Nothing more.”
“But you feel more?”
“I can’t say that I don’t.” Tension corded in his neck. That had to hurt, too. “Can you say the same?”
