Hawke's Salvation (6 page)

“Lauren, please, that’s not what I said, or even what I meant. I just don’t want Roman and Franki hurt either,” Lacy tried to explain.

“So you’re going to give it to them and hurt us?” The tears were sliding down Lauren’s cheeks now, and Lacy looked absolutely sick. She lifted her hands as if to reach for her sister-in-law, but Lauren spun away and walked from the room. Vin was quick to follow, and everyone turned to Drannon and Lacy to see what they would do.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Lacy said, choking on her own emotions.

“We’ll figure it out baby,” Drannon said, kissing her forehead. Michael began fussing again, and it seemed to draw Lacy out of her sorrow for a moment.

“I need to get him something to eat.” She took him from Franki and headed for the kitchen in search of a bottle. Drannon stared after her for a long moment as if unsure what to do next.

“If it means that much to Vin…” Franki started to say, but she stopped when Romeo turned a hard look her way.

The silence was thick, and after another moment, Drannon left the room without a word. Jeanette felt terrible watching the whole thing unfurl in front of her. This group had such a tight emotional bond, anything like this was unsettling.

It wasn’t long before Romeo and Franki also disappeared, and Jeanette, Hawke, and Marilyn were left alone to decorate the massive tree. Hawke finished stringing the lights and plopped down on the sofa, staring at the ornaments that were spread out on the coffee table.

“I guess there’s not much point in hanging all of those now, huh?” he murmured.

“Why’s that?” Marilyn asked, frowning in his direction. “Christmas is still coming. No matter how angry you guys get with each other, you always find a way to work it out. Everyone’s just emotional lately because so much has happened. We’ll finish decorating the tree, and by tomorrow, things will have worked out.”

Jeanette hoped Marilyn was right, but her experience and education told her there was more to this fight than met the eye. She didn’t know why both Romeo and Lauren had such a strong reaction to the godparent thing, but she couldn’t see an easy solution. In the end, someone was likely going to get hurt.

Pushing to her feet, she reached for a pretty glass ball and slid it onto a branch. One at a time, she began hanging the ornaments as if nothing else in the world mattered. Thankfully, it was all the encouragement Hawke needed to get back up and help.

Together they put every ornament on the tree, followed by a few sprinkles of tinsel. Hawke flipped the lights off in the room, and the tree glowed with colorful lights. It was magical to see the massive tree that just that morning had been standing in the sunshine, now adorned with all the Christmas joy and family moments that the boys had experienced over the years. Hopefully the sight of it would bring back their Christmas spirit.

She shivered when Hawke stepped in behind her, and his warmth seeped through her clothes. Her body responded to him even more obviously then before, and she cursed her choice to drink a second glass of wine.

“Thank you for helping.” He murmured in her ear, his hot breath dancing over the sensitive skin of her neck. His hands cupped her shoulders, rubbing down her biceps to her elbows and back up. “It turned out beautiful.”

She nodded, “It certainly did, and you’re welcome. I enjoyed it… well, most of it. I could have done without the drama.”

Hawke snorted disbelievingly, “You think that was dramatic? Hell, you should see how they act at Fourth of July when there’s only one bratwurst left on the grill.”

She laughed at the joke, and tipped her head up to meet his gaze. The Christmas lights reflected in their green depths and she felt caught in a trap. Her heart responded to his humor, almost as quickly as her body responded to the desire she could see on his face.

“Hawke, “ She whispered, her heart fluttering in her chest faster than it ever had before. “Don’t do this.”

He grinned playfully, “Do what, darlin’? Don’t do this?” His head swooped in and captured her lips. With her back still pressed against his front, he wasn’t able to give her the same sort of deep kiss as before, but it still reached into her belly and tangled with her soul.

There was something about Hawthorn Kapshaw that just tangled her all up. At this rate, she was going to need a life preserver to save herself.

H
awke likened
the feeling of kissing Jeanette to that of a drowning man breaking the surface for air. The more of her he got on his taste buds, the more he wanted. With a gentle push, he turned her so they were face to face before continuing his sensual assault of her lips. He could taste the wine on her tongue as it danced with his, and when she lifted her hands and tangled her fingers in his long hair, he wanted to shout with triumph.

Her nails scraped across his scalp, and she tugged lightly on the strands pulling him closer. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for from her when he’d first kissed her, but having had to work for it all these long months made it even better.

Their lips broke apart, and they both panted for air, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. He loved the hazy look of desire she wore, and the way her full lips were parted, swollen and begging to be tasted again.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to stare at his mouth.

“Stop thinking so hard, Doc. Let your body tell you what to do instead of your head this time.” He pressed his lips to the arch of her neck, and continued trailing a path of damp kisses down to her pulse point. He could feel her blood racing through her veins just under her soft, white skin, and for once, he understood why vampires were so appealing. He wanted nothing more than to consume Jeanette, and bind her to him in such a way that she would never think of leaving him.

“Why don’t you let me take Michael in with Todd tonight? They can have a sleepover, and you and Drannon can have some time—” Nolan’s voice shattered their powerful moment, and they stepped apart jerking around to look toward the door where the intruder stood. Lacy and Nolan both gaped at them for a moment before they recovered.

“Uh, thanks Nolan, but we have to figure out how to work things out with kids in the mix. Eight months from now we’ll be dealing with a newborn,” Lacy said, adjusting the baby in her arms. “Goodnight Hawke. Jeanette, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night.” Hawke barely managed to growl out the word before Lacy booked it up the staircase, and Nolan disappeared down the hallway with a short, awkward wave goodnight.

Turning back, he noted Jeanette’s soft pink flush had deepened into a crimson blush that stained her cheeks and throat. Embarrassment. She was embarrassed to be caught with him, and it stung.

He shifted another step away from her and shoved his hands in his front pockets in an attempt to disguise the mammoth erection he had. Clearing his throat, he nodded to the door. “Go on. I get it. It was another moment of indiscretion that you’d rather not discuss ever again.”

Jeanette’s head jerked up, and her eyes found his. For just a moment, they registered hurt, and Hawke was confused. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, darlin’. Every time we’ve had a moment together, you’ve made it pretty damn clear how you felt afterwards. I figured this time wouldn’t be any different.”

Jeanette swallowed so hard he saw her throat bob, and she glanced at the open doorway into the kitchen again before shaking her head. She seemed to be having some sort of silent argument with herself.

“I’ll probably regret it, you’re right, but I don’t think I’m ready to say goodnight yet.”

With that one sentence she managed to simultaneously steal the oxygen from his lungs, and fill his chest with pride and ego. She wanted him. She wasn’t embarrassed that she’d been caught with him. She was just embarrassed to be caught making out under the Christmas tree when the whole family was around. That was a relief.

Reaching for her hand, he drew her knuckles to his lips. “Good, because I’m not sure I could have gone another night without you. I want you so much it hurts, Jeanette.”

A small smile curled her lips and she pulled him closer. “Show me.”

J
eanette didn’t know
what had gotten into her. She’d never been so ballsy and brave with a man in her life. Something about Hawke pushed her to be stronger than normal, and to grab what she wanted with both hands. Which would likely be a very inappropriate move in the main house with all the family still around.

Hawke seemed to sense that she wasn’t as comfortable as she let on, because instead of kissing her again, he tangled his fingers with hers, and winked before pulling her through the house to the back door. They paused long enough to pull on winter gear before tumbling out the door into the dark. Snow was falling lightly, and the temperature had dropped significantly.

“So much for the warm weather.” She surmised, wrinkling her nose at the sky.

“It’s December in North Dakota. It’s supposed to be cold. Isn’t Philadelphia cold in the winter, too?” Hawke asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close as they walked. Instantly she felt warmer, and she wasn’t so sure it had anything to do with his arm.

“Oh definitely. Winters can be nasty there. I’m just more of a warm weather girl. I like snow from inside the house where it’s warm and dry,” she said with a giggle. Good grief, she was acting like a teenager.

They reached her cabin in what felt like record time, and she quickly dug for her keys. She pushed open the door, sighing with pleasure as the warm air hit her face. Hawke stepped in behind her and shut the door with a firm click that seemed to echo through the small space. Even though he’d been there before, she was still amazed how much smaller the cabin felt with him inside.

“Uh...” She fumbled for what to say to him, as she removed her outer gear. “Do you want a drink? I have some wine in the fridge…or diet cola?”

Hawke shook his head, and toed off his cowboy boots leaving them by the door. She noted how neatly he hung is stuff on the hooks, and wondered if that was for her benefit or if he was always so careful with his stuff. It seemed rather a contrast to his normally chaotic personality.

“Why don’t you give me the tour?” he suggested softly when she’d finished placing her own damp boots near the door. She nodded and took his hand in hers again, leading him to the door of her office first.

As they stepped inside, she looked around with a completely different set of eyes than normal. Her diplomas hung on the wall behind the desk next to her licenses, but otherwise, nothing adorned the walls yet.

“This is my office. It’s still pretty bare. I’ve been meaning to find some bookshelves for that wall so that I can unpack my books, but I haven’t had time to go into Minot. Montford’s selection is pretty bleak.”

“So this is where the magic happens,” Hawke teased, surveying the small changes she had managed to make to the room. “I like your stapler.”

She cocked her head in confusion and then realized what he meant. Reaching for the novelty item she laughed. “This was a gift from my best friend back home. I used to collect owls, and she found this in some tourist shop when she was on vacation. Monica loves to travel. In fact, she’s in Tibet for the holidays.”

“Tibet? Why Tibet?” he asked.

Shrugging, she let him take the stapler from her. “Who knows why Monica goes where she goes? She’s a photographer, and she does some freelance writing, too, but she has always had a restless spirit. She calls it itchy feet. She can’t stand to stay in one place for very long before she has to move on.”

“The complete opposite of you.” Hawke commented, returning the owl shaped item to the desk. “Why owls?”

“My Uncle Craig started it when I came to live with them. I wore glasses as a kid, and he always said I looked a bit like an owl. I was pretty quiet back then.” She paused and shrugged. “I’m sure the emotional trauma of my parents death played into my inability to bond with others quickly.”

Hawke nodded but he didn’t reply. Instead, he moved across the room toward the bathroom door. She followed and her heart rate increased the closer he got to her bedroom.

“You own this place. Surely you’ve been inside the Huck Finn Cabin before?” she asked, as he picked up her perfume bottle and sniffed it. His eyes drifted closed as he inhaled the scent she regularly wore, and he smiled.

“Sure, lots of times, but it’s different now. You’ve made it your home, so it’s like discovering a whole new place. What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the flat iron on the counter.

“A hair straightener.”

He gave her a funny look, “Why would you need a hair straightener with short hair?”

She instinctively reached up and patted her dark pixie cut self-consciously. “I don’t roll out of bed with it looking like this. Sometimes it stands up, and I look like Alfalfa from the
Little Rascals
.”

Laughing deeply, Hawke shook his head. “There’s no way you could ever look that bad. You’re too beautiful.”

She felt his words all the way to her core, and she didn’t know what to say in response. That was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her, even if it wasn’t true.

Before she could respond, Hawke reached for the closed bedroom door and pulled it open. She held her breath as he got his first view of her private sanctuary. Compared to the rest of the house, this room looked as though she’d lived here for decades. She’d hung her parents wedding photo above the dresser, and a half-burnt candle and bronze cross sat below. Above the bed was an abstract painting in purples and greens that she’d found at a flea market years before. She’d fallen in love with the chaotic lines the artist had blended into a fluid masterpiece and had to have it.

A rich emerald green comforter covered her bed over equally elegant Egyptian cotton sheets that felt like silk against her skin. An antique, blown glass lamp replaced the utilitarian one that belonged to Crawley Creek on the bedside table, and here and there, accessories and pieces of her life dotted the surfaces of everything. Allowing him in here was like opening her chest so that he could see her heart beating live and in person.

“Is green your favorite color?” he asked, catching her off guard.

“No, actually, yellow is, why?”

He gestured to the bed. “Just taking a guess based on your style.”

She shook her head. “Oh no, I actually ordered the comforter and sheets after I got to Crawley Creek. I love shopping online. It was the color that caught my attention, it reminded me of—”

She choked on her words when she realized what she’d been about to say, and Hawke’s eyes narrowed.

“Reminded you of what?” he prodded, lifting an eyebrow.

For a moment, she considered making something up. Telling him it was green like the grass, or the trees, but instead she heard herself saying, “Your eyes.”

Hawke’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Really?”

She nodded, feeling heat creep over her cheeks again.

“I’ll be damned.” He turned to look at the bed again with his hands planted on his hips. When he turned back he was grinning like a loon. “That’s perfect.”

“Huh?”

He moved too fast for her to avoid him, and he swung her up in the air with his arms locked just below her hips. Kissing her hard, he laughed again. “It’s perfect because you were thinking of me when I was thinking of you. Which means you wanted me, too, you were just denying it.”

Jeanette started to protest, but he loosened his grip so that she slid down his front slightly. The mound of her pussy pressed against the hard ridge of his zipper-covered erection, and she inhaled sharply.

“Exactly,” he murmured before he captured her mouth again, this time with even more gusto than before. He nipped her lips and suckled her tongue, tempting her to do the same thing for him. Their mouths mated together as if they’d always been meant to do so, and Jeanette felt her head spin. Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, she sank deeper into the embrace, welcoming him against her body as well as into her heart.

Hawke didn’t disappoint. His hands covered the curve of her ass, kneading the muscle through her jeans until she was afraid she might combust. Ripping her lips away from his, she groaned when he continued his assault on the bare skin of her throat. He went as far as he could before the neckline of her shirt got in the way and he was forced to stop. With a huff of frustration, he tipped her weight onto one arm, and shoved the hemline of her shirt up above her breasts, exposing the pillowy mounds in her pretty, white lace bra.

“Fuck me stupid,” he murmured, burying his face in her cleavage and leaving wet kisses all over the exposed skin. Jeanette inhaled, holding her breath so that the pink of her areolas slipped just above the lacy edge of the material, and she was rewarded with a love bite just where she wanted it.

Hawke managed to turn with her in his arms and prop her ass on the top of the dresser so that he could use both of his hands to release her bra, and push it out of the way. Still wearing her shirt and tangled bra, she tossed her head with appreciation as he began a lethal assault on her sensitive nipples. He plucked and tweaked and twisted before kissing and caressing them again. Jeanette could feel her climax building inside her belly even though all he’d done so far was play with her breasts.

“Hawke, we need to move to the bed,” she moaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair when he sucked her fat nipple between his lips and teased it with the sharp edges of his teeth.

She felt him unbuttoning her jeans, and she tipped her hips first one way and then the other so that he could ease them from under her ass. He jerked them roughly down her legs and off her feet, and then dropped to his knees between her thighs and pressed his face against the white of her panties.

“You smell delicious,” he murmured, making her giggle.

“If I’d known this would happen, I would have worn something prettier,” she admitted, pulling her shirt and bra over her head and tossing them aside. She might not have been in silk or satin, but the way Hawke looked at her sitting there in just her plain Jane cotton panties she felt like a goddess.

“I like you just the way you are. Polished on the outside, like a perfect diamond, but underneath, you’re warm and soft. Perfect.”

When he slid his fingers just under the edge of her panties into her dripping folds, she gasped, “Oh God.” She let her head fall back against the wall behind her as he pushed the crotch of her undies aside and spread her open. His breath was hot against her sensitive skin, and she felt completely vulnerable.