Chapter 11
BECCA
Exhaust fumes, restaurant food and the smell of him lingered in the evening air. I couldn't identify the precise scent, but it contained notes of sandalwood and citrus, along with something so uniquely Hawk.
He wore black trousers and a dark green button down shirt. The black tie he wore, he'd slid off the moment we stepped out of O'Rourke's. He looked more comfortable without it, and with the first couple of buttons of his shirt undone.
I got the distinct impression he was as at home in a fancy restaurant as I was. He seemed like a burger joint kinda guy, all the way. No matter how much money someone gets, you can’t change them deep down.
"Where are we going?" I should probably have taken back my hand when we stepped out onto the street, but I liked it where it was. In his. Strong, calloused, safe, and warm. "Will your friends mind us skipping out?"
"In reverse order: probably, and you'll see. At least we didn't eat and run."
As far as I could tell, the plates wouldn't have had enough food on them to give us the energy to run.
"Yeah, but someone else could have used that table," I said.
"Naw. Neil will have someone sitting there by now, knowing him. Sometimes he treats his staff with a table and a free meal. In this case, he'll probably send me the cheque."
"And you'll pay it?" Of course he would. Hawk wouldn't miss a few hundred dollars.
"Money isn't the enemy, you know," Hawk said. "It's just a thing. A means to an end."
"It's easy to say when you have means," I replied. I wasn’t suffering now, but tabloid writing didn’t exactly roll one in riches. Unless you were a creep like Harvey.
"I guess so." He stopped on the sidewalk. "This is the place."
We stood outside an open door. The sound of music and laughter came from inside. They were accompanied by the welcome rattle of plates and aroma of cooking carbohydrates.
"My cousin on my Dad's side owns the place. Best burgers and beers in town."
"That sounds more like it." It smelled even better.
He still held my hand as we stepped through the doorway. I quickly let go and looked around in surprise.
A sign just inside declared 'Waves on Bell St'.
To the right was a small restaurant with solid timber tables and tall-backed chairs which reminded me of thrones. To the left, a bar was half filled with people who sat around small round tables, or leaned on the bar.
None of that was as surprising as the woman who stood behind the bar. She gave a warm smile to Hawk, but when she saw me her face lit up. She hurried out from behind the bar and gave me a hug, heavily pregnant belly and all.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said. "Penny is forever running ahead, but that was the first time she's left my sight like that. I was so worried."
I hugged her back, careful of the bump. "You're welcome. I was happy to help."
Hawk looked at us both in confusion. "You know each other?"
"We've met." I told him about finding Penny at the mall.
"Penny takes after her cousin Conrad," the woman said teasingly. "Always running and getting into trouble"
Cousins? The little girl I helped was Hawk’s cousin? How small was Lowball Bay, again?
"Thanks, Vera." Hawk stuck his chin out at her and made a face. "This is Becca."
"It's lovely to officially meet you," Vera said. "You have dubious taste in men, if you're here with him." She jerked her head toward her cousin and grinned.
Hawk put a hand around his mouth and whispered loudly, "She's not wrong. I'm very dubious."
I laughed. "I already knew that." Isn’t that why we had this bet?
Hawk spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "What can a guy do when he's outnumbered but grab a burger, some fries and a beer?"
"Brody's in the kitchen, he'll help you out. Meanwhile, my replacement is here, thank the gods. I could eat a whole cow."
"Why don't you join us?" I offered.
Hawk groaned. "Vera will tell you all my secrets." The smile on his face told me he didn't mind.
"That would be great," Vera said. "I don't get to catch up with this hellion often enough." She patted him on the shoulder.
"Better make that beer a double," Hawk said with a shake of his head. He waved toward a table. "I'll get us food. Make yourselves comfortable. And Vera, try not to scare Becca off."
"No promises," Vera said over her shoulder as she slid awkwardly into a seat. She groaned. "Buy a bar, they said. It will be fun, they said."
I smiled. "It must be difficult when you're pregnant."
"Oh, it absolutely is," she agreed. "Luckily it's a little quiet tonight; Geena and Fargo are both off sick. If not for that, I'd be home with my feet up. Thank the gods Mom is watching the kids."
"You have more than one?" I asked.
Her eyes widened. "I have four!"
"Wow. Penny said your favourite number was five." I couldn't even imagine having more than a couple of kids some day. I don't think I could handle five.
"No kidding," Vera said. "After this, my favourite word is going to be 'no'. Or maybe 'snip snip.'
"Who are you snipping?" Hawk asked. He placed a tray down in the middle of the table. "Do I need my ball guard?"
"Probably," Vera said lightly. "But I was talking about Brody. Whether you need yours is up to her." She gestured to me with a smile I tried to return.
I did not want to think about Hawk’s balls, thank you. Okay, maybe I did, but that was no one’s business but mine.
"Ohhh." Hawk dragged the word out and flopped down beside me. "But five is an odd number."
Vera gave him a flat stare. "If you think I should have an even six, you can carry it and give birth."
I stifled a laugh by stuffing a french fry into my mouth. It was good, and there were a lot more of them than haute cuisine.
"I'd like to see that," I said once I swallowed.
"Me too," Vera said. "Wouldn't he look cute with swollen ankles and nipples that leak milk at the worst possible moment?"
"Next time I have one in my hand," Hawk said, his face half-obscured by a huge burger, "I'll stuff a ball up the front of my shirt and you two can live the dream." He nodded and bit down.
"He'd do it too," Vera said. "He keeps the kids in laughter all day when he has the time to visit, or when they visit him at work. The oldest two love game day. Penny, she's number three, loves the hot dogs."
"Game hot dogs are the best," I agreed.
"With ketchup and mustard," Hawk said. Apparently he managed to down the huge bite he'd eaten.
"You're a Neanderthal," Vera told him. "Who puts both on a perfectly good hotdog?"
I coughed lightly. "Um, I do."
Hawk laughed at the look on his cousin's face. "See, I told you I wasn't the only one."
Vera shook her head and started on her fries.
“To be fair, I have a digital pen pal, Chris, who grew up in Chicago. He plays American hockey. And he would kill us both if he found out we put ketchup on hot dogs,” I said.
“Why?” Hawk wondered. “And who is this Chris, again?”
“Apparently there is a real reason, but I have no idea.” Was he jealous of me having a guy friend? Seriously? Or was I reading too much into it?
"This is where you got to." A man with a receding hairline and a pleasant smile sat in the chair beside Vera, interrupting us. He placed a bowl of soup in front of himself and began to eat.
"Only after I ran a marathon and washed every window in the city."
Brody, apparently used to his wife's humour, nodded. "You got over your fear of heights, then?"
"Not a chance," she shot back. "It's a perfectly rational fear, along with the fear of running marathons."
"Or a fear of being watched by ducks," I said. When they all turned and looked at me, I shrugged. "What? It's a thing."
"Ducks are pretty scary," Hawk said, his expression deadpan. "I wouldn't want one watching me, especially if it was on my plate, surrounded by orange sauce."
"If a dead duck looks at you," Brody waved his spoon at Hawk, "don't go eating it."
"That sounds like good advice," I said.
"What can I say? I'm a wise guy," Brody said.
"You're a wiseguy," Vera told him.
"That too," he said with a nod. "Did you tell her about the time a chicken chased Conrad around the yard?"
Hawk smacked his hand against his forehead. "Crap, no, not that story."
"Oh yeah, that story." Brody grinned. "Go on, Vera, it's hilarious."
“Yes, please do,” I encouraged, making Hawk groan again.
While Hawk groaned, Vera spoke.
"My dad and his are brothers. They've always been pretty close, but they razz each other out every chance they get. Now, his father is terrified of chickens. Always has been."
"He's not scared, he's allergic," Hawk said.
"Whatever." Vera waved the fry in her hand, in the air.
"Anyway, my father decided he'd play a trick on his brother.
He borrowed a hen from one of the neighbours and put her in the yard.
Uncle Jacob never even saw it, because Conrad did first. Conrad, being Conrad, decided he'd grab that little ole chicken and take her back before his Dad got home. "
I glanced at Hawk and he shrugged. It seemed like a nice thing to have done.
"Anyway, he tried to grab the chicken, but he had to run around the yard about a hundred times and still couldn't catch her. Then she got pissed with him. She turned around and started to chase him." Vera laughed. "He squealed like a little boy."
I laughed. I could picture young Hawk bolting around, an angry chicken right on his heels.
"She tried to peck the crap outta me," Hawk said. "I didn't want her to spoil my pretty face." He patted his cheek.
"Some women like scars," I pointed out.
"Not ones caused by a chicken beak, or claws," Vera said.
"I could have said they were from fingernails," Hawk said.
"You were twelve." Vera looked disgusted, but on the verge of laughing.
"Good point," Hawk said. "That wouldn't have been cool. Anyway, what Vera hasn't said is that I caught the chicken and got rid of her. She was tasty." He patted his flat stomach.
"Is that when you learned to run so fast?" I asked.
Vera let out a scream of laughter. "I never thought of that. It probably is. Breaking news, Hawk Florence owes his career to a chicken."
We all laughed then.
When we finally stopped, Hawk gave me a serious look. "I owe more of my career to Becca."
"I'm happy to share," I said sweetly. "The chicken deserves her moment in the sun, too."
"The chicken deserved her moment in the pot," Hawk said. "Hot tub for one."
I almost made a joke about him eating me, but bit it back. I didn't want him to assume too much, and wasn't quite up to flirting in front of members of his family.
If we were alone, would I have said it? I wanted to. More than that, I liked the idea of him eating me. The thought of his head between my legs made my skin feel a little warmer. I bet he knew how to make a woman come hard.
He said something to Vera. I couldn't hear over the blood in my ears as I watched his tongue move.
I swallowed and hid my face behind a big sip of beer, hoping it would cool me down.
Get a grip, I told myself. Great, now my thoughts were between his legs. How big—
I downed another gulp.
"Tell Becca about Conrad's cooking escapades," Brody said.
"Hey, I'm a great cook," Hawk protested.
"Now, maybe," Vera said. "But back then…"