Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
A sudden crack of thunder split the air, loud and jarring. Lexi flinched and turned to look out of the glassless window. Fat droplets of rain began to fall, pockmarking the dry dirt of the clearing outside.
She’d known it was coming, of course. The heavy, oppressive heat of the last few days had been a warning, the jungle holding its breath for this exact moment.
Within seconds, the rain came down in sheets, thick and relentless. It drenched the clearing, transforming the dirt into slippery mud and sending workers scrambling for cover under the broad, sheltering mango and eucalyptus trees at the jungle’s edge.
“Come inside!” she shouted toward Hawk and Dan, who were struggling to throw a tarp over the mini-cement mixer and a pile of freshly mixed concrete. Moyo was nowhere to be seen. She hoped Hawk had sent him home before the storm hit.
Hawk lifted his head at her shout, his soaked shirt clinging to his chest and shoulders, every muscle defined under the wet fabric. Lexi couldn’t help but stare as he and Dan sprinted toward the clinic, rain streaming off them like they’d just emerged from a river.
“This storm’s going to shut us down for the day,” Hawk said, stepping under the doorway’s shelter and shaking the water out of his hair.
Dan wrung out his shirt, his teeth flashing in a quick grin. “Might as well send the guys home. No sense in waiting this out.”
Hawk nodded, and Dan disappeared into the rain to dismiss the crew.
“Moyo?” she asked.
“He’s already gone,” he told her.
“That’s good.”
She tried not to stare, she really did, as Hawk leaned one arm against the doorframe, gazing out at the storm. The man looked infuriatingly good even soaking wet. His curls, usually tousled and boyish, were slicked back from the rain, making his angular jawline and high cheekbones even more pronounced. His soaked shirt clung to him like a second skin, and she could see every inch of the broad shoulders and hard chest beneath.
A chest she remembered touching, clinging to as he kissed her.
Oh, God. That kiss.
She sucked in a breath, then busied herself with straightening the papers on the desk, anything to distract herself from the fact that just the sight of him had her feeling overheated in a room that was already muggy from the humidity.
“How’s Ayo doing?” Hawk’s gaze shifting over to her.
“Still recovering,” she said, glad for the change in subject. “Patrick’s working with him now. Want to check in on him?”
“Sure.”
She led the way, through the narrow doorway and down the short corridor to the recovery room. He followed, his boots squeaking on the concrete floor. Inside, Patrick was gently stretching Ayo’s injured leg on a mat. The young gorilla turned his head at their entrance, his big brown eyes wary, but he visibly relaxed when he saw her.
“He’s still pretty jumpy.” She crouched down and stroked Ayo’s fur. “Loud noises, sudden movements—everything sets him off.”
Hawk stood back, watching quietly as she murmured soft reassurances to the little gorilla. There was something so steady about his presence, the way he seemed comfortable just observing.
“They’re a lot like kids, aren’t they?”
“They are,” she glanced up, surprised at the astuteness of his comment. “Come on, I’ll introduce you properly.”
She beckoned him closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, he joined her on the mat. She spoke to Ayo in a low, soothing voice, telling him Hawk was a friend and someone she trusted.
Hawk gave her a look that sent a flutter through her stomach. “If you trust me, I guess that’s good enough for him.”
Ayo seemed to agree. The little gorilla let out a chattering sound that almost sounded like a laugh, his lips pulling back in a wide grin.
“You’re in,” Patrick said, grinning up at Hawk.
Lexi laughed. “Want to hold him?”
“Uh … sure,” Hawk said, clearly uncertain but game.
She carefully handed Ayo over, watching as this big, rugged man cradled the young gorilla with surprising gentleness. Something futtered deep inside her, in the vicinity of her heart.
“You’re a natural,” she teased as Ayo climbed onto Hawk’s shoulder and started tugging playfully at his damp hair.
“Hey, easy, buddy,” Hawk said with a chuckle. “I might need that later.”
Lexi laughed.
“I’ll take him before he pulls it all out.” She lifted Ayo off his shoulders and placed him back on the mat, where he immediately went over to Patrick.
“I’ll take him back to his cage,” the veterinarian said, picking up the gorilla.
“Okay, thanks Patrick. I’ll clean up and then lock up the clinic. See you tomorrow.”
Hawk said goodbye, and Patrick left via the back, taking a clinging Ayo with him.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Hawk offered, as they walked back to the treatment room.
She glanced at him in surprise. “You don’t have to. You must be exhausted, you’ve had a long day.”
“So have you.” He put his hands on his hips. “But I’m here, and I’ve got nothing else to do.” That simple statement shouldn’t have made her heart skip a beat, but it did.
They worked side by side, Hawk carrying the bucket of soapy water and wielding the mop like a pro.
“You’re full of surprises,” she said, when he got started.
“Military discipline,” he said with a growl. “Made me into the man I am today.”
“Remind me to thank them,” she teased, as he carried on cleaning the floor.
They finished in record time, and once they were done and had washed and dried their hands, she turned to face him. “Thanks for your help.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She hesitated, wanting to say something else but not finding the words.
“I should go,” he said, filling the gap.
Lexi glanced out of the glassless window. “It’s still pouring. You’ll get drenched again.”
He grinned. “I’ll survive.”
And then he was gone, swallowed up by the storm. Lexi stared after him, her heart pounding for reasons she wasn’t ready to admit.
Another week passed quietly, but the routines of the clinic continued at their usual frantic pace. One morning, just after six fifteen, she found Dan in the clearing outside, setting up his camera equipment. She had already been up for a while, having checked on the wounded silverback that Noah, the field vet, had brought in overnight. Pausing to watch Dan adjust his lens, she asked, “What are the cameras doing here?”
He straightened slightly, smiling at her before returning his focus to the camera. “We’re filming the building progress today.” He positioned the lens towards the clinic. “Rex wants a stage-by-stage account of the revamp.”
“You don’t mind, do you?” Hawk came up behind her, making her jump, or maybe it was just her heart. She hadn’t heard him approach.
“Of course not. I was just curious.” She smiled and nodded to the clinic. “Coffee?”
His early morning visits had become a habit—one she secretly looked forward to.
At first, they’d talked about their days, and what they had planned. He’d listened, really listened, in a way that most people didn’t, and their talks had begun to feel … comfortable. Intimate, even. But she’d kept up her guard, carefully steering away from anything too personal.
“I heard you had an eventful night,” he said, as they walked toward the clinic together.
“Yeah, a lone silverback showed up, ousted from Bongi’s clan. He’s got some nasty wounds on his neck—probably from challenging Bongi or another alpha. It was a long night. I just checked on him before I spotted Dan.”
“Was he trying to take over the clan?”
Lexi quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve been reading Robert’s books.”
A small grin tugging at his lips. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to know what I’m talking about.”
“Well, you’re spot on. If a male’s strong enough, he can challenge the dominant silverback, especially if the leader’s aging, like Bongi. Otherwise, the only option is to go off and start his own clan.”
“That’s rough.” Hawk’s gaze was thoughtful. “Bongi must be on constant high alert now.”
“He has to be,” Lexi agreed, pouring the coffee. “I’ve asked the rangers in that area to keep an eye on him in case he’s injured, too.”
Hawk took the mug she handed him, their fingers brushing briefly. His voice dropped a little as he said, “Not so different from us humans, huh?”
Lexi chuckled. “Strip us down to the basics, and we’re not so different from our ancestors.”
They sipped their coffee in companionable silence for a moment before Hawk set his mug down, his expression shifting to something more serious. “Lexi, there’s something you should know.”
“Oh, what’s that?” She glanced up, her heart skipping a beat at the expression on his face.
“I got a call this morning from my finance officer. The board’s pressing for me to get back to New York. The share price has stabilized, and we’ve got a potential new project in Ecuador.” He paused, taking a slow breath. “Long story short, they need me back.”
Lexi froze, the words hitting harder than she’d expected. She set her coffee down carefully, keeping her expression neutral. “How do you feel about that?”
Hawk looked away, his broad shoulders dropping slightly. It was such a small movement, but it spoke volumes. “I have to go. That’s not really up for debate. I was hoping for another week or two here, but I can’t keep delaying. It’s my company, and there are decisions that only I can make.”
Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady. “Well, you’ve done an incredible job. You helped us rebuild, along with boosting the company’s image. I hope you feel it’s been worthwhile for you.”
“It has, obviously.” He ran a hand through his hair, the curls still damp from his morning shower. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed for this long.”
It had been almost a month.
“The board have been patient, but I can’t blame them for getting restless. If I were in their position, I’d be frustrated too. They must be wondering what I’ve been up to in the jungle.”
“Don’t you give them updates?” she asked quietly, searching his face.
Hawk’s lips curved into a rueful smile. “Of course, but they don’t understand what it’s like here, why it’s so hard to leave.”
Lexi swallowed, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
“I know you understand.”
She nodded, and before she could help it, she’d reached out and rested her hand on his. It was meant as a simple gesture of comfort, but the moment their skin touched, something shifted. His hand was warm and solid beneath hers, and for a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.
When she looked up, his eyes were already on her, searching. There was heat there, a deep, intense heat that made her mouth go dry.
God help her, she felt it too. And that terrified her.
Breaking the moment, she pulled her hand back and wrapped it around her coffee mug. “So … when do you think you’ll leave?”
He hesitated, unable to meet her gaze. “Tomorrow. Robert’s having a farewell dinner for us tonight.”
She gasped, unable to help herself. “So soon?”
He looked away. “The building work is almost complete. The rest can be done without me. There is no reason to delay any longer.”
Except for me, she thought silently, then chastised herself. Silly, she was the one who’d suggested they stay friends—and thank goodness she had. If she’d slept with him, if she’d fallen for him, his leaving would have been a hell of a lot harder.
“How are you getting to the airport?”
“We’ll head to Kinshasa with a UN vehicle and fly out from there. Rex and Dan will come with me, of course.” He scoffed. “We’ll finally be out of your hair.”
Lexi fought tears. She liked having them in her hair. Not them.
Him .
The idea of never seeing him again through her into a panic. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. They were just getting to know each other. Really getting to know each other. Plus, Hawk was such a dominant figure at the sanctuary. Their alpha male, their silverback. Even though Robert was the chief warden, Hawk was the one who pulled the strings. “It won’t be the same without you,” she whispered.
Hawk stared at her. “I don’t want to leave either, but I have no choice.”
She nodded, willing herself not to cry.
“Lexi…” He started to say something, then stopped, shaking his head. “I’d better go. There’s still a lot to do. See you later at the Lodge?”
“I’ll be there.” She couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice.
Then he was gone, striding into the sunlight, leaving her standing there, her heart breaking into a trillion tiny pieces that she feared she might never be able to put back together again.