10. Ethan Hawke-Volpe
TEN
Ethan Hawke-Volpe
ETAIN
W hile Hawk and Drifter move their conversation outside, the severity of what’s happened in the last forty-eight hours makes my head spin. My life has been completely turned upside down and inside out, and I must be crazy because I’m still smiling. Not about the stalking thing or the Robert part, but because Hawk makes me feel safe and happy.
Finding out Robert was cheating stung. It was a betrayal, but it also made me come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t in love with him like I thought I was. I loved him, but wasn’t in love with him. Still, it hurt that someone I trusted threw what we had away in the blink of an eye. We could have stayed friends or at least remained civil. He could have told me his feelings had changed, and we might have been able to salvage part of what we had together. Then again, maybe not, but I would have felt like we made the decision together.
On the plus side, meeting Sasha and finding a friend in the midst of the insane changes going on is nothing short of a miracle. I used to be an outgoing person and loved meeting new people, but my sole focus became Robert, and I lost who I was. My bad, I mentally chastise myself.
In one fell swoop, I met a friend, found my place, and have found a full-time job. All the nervousness I had when I walked into the garage disappeared when I saw Hawk. The more I get to know Hawk, the easier it gets to open up to him. When Hawk laid it all out, I should have shut him down. I should have said I’m not ready for a relationship. It’s too soon. There’s too much going on in your club. There is so much I could have said, but instead, I kissed him. And it was hot! So hot!
He tastes so good, and the way his soft, firm lips moved over mine made my knees weak and my head spin. One kiss and I needed to change my panties.
It sucks that the Jackals are jerking Hawk and his brothers around. It’s a power struggle, and in the MC world, it’s probably uglier than I could imagine. It bothers me that a Jackal is sitting outside my place, watching my house. I got a creepy feeling when Gunner came to our table and eyed me like frosting on a cake he wanted to lick. Ewww! He makes my skin crawl.
Any normal woman would pack up her belongings and skip town, start over someplace else. I’ve never been normal. It’s like I’m a mix of rational and irrational. I’m an expert when it comes to money matters and planning. The logical side of me thinks ahead. But there’s this other side of me where I follow my gut and do what feels right, and staying where I am with Hawk feels right.
Being around Sasha feels right. I know there’s so much she isn’t saying, and I hope one day, she’ll trust me enough to share what’s going on with her. I want to be as good a friend to her as she’s being to me.
And Hawk, well, it’s crazy, and I can’t explain what I feel. I feel alive! Hawk was honest. Even about the ugly part about the club having troubles. He was giving me an out, making it my choice. And I pounced, kissing him like a desperate wanton, needing to feel his body against mine.
Well, Etain Rogan Huggart, you’ve signed up for a wild ride with Hawk and Redemption Riders. Is this safe? Who knows! What I do know is that I won’t forget my own dreams this time around.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t notice Hawk and Drifter coming back inside until Hawk comes into view. He watches me intently, tilting his head.
“Did I leave you alone for too long?” Hawk asks. He’s worried I’ve changed my mind. A normal woman would, but as I’ve already established, normal isn’t an option for me.
I push a mug toward him across the counter, then another to Drifter.
“Cookie?” I hold out a plate and give him a grin.
Hawk smiles. Drifter chuckles and takes a cookie.
“What’s the plan, handsome?” I ask.
“I’m spending the night, babe,” he says. I lift my brows. “Keeping you safe,” he adds quietly. As much as Drifter tries to give us space, I live in a tiny home. There’s no way he can’t hear us talking.
“Am I unsafe?”
“Not with Redemption Riders in your corner,” Hawks says, coming to me and putting his arms around my waist. His voice still soft, he says, “The Jackals are setting us up for a fall. We know this, and we have a plan. Last time, our man Phantom paid the price. This time, we’re ready for them. Gunner saw you today. And he saw me. He knows what kind of man I am and figured out you mean something to me. He’s trying to rattle me. For my piece of mind, I’m asking that you ride this out with me. There’ll be a Rider with you whenever I can’t be. I know it’s a lot to take seeing as you’ve already been through enough in the last few days to last you a lifetime, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Like a bodyguard?”
He nods. He must sense my hesitation. “It’s who I am, Ginger.”
“I don’t want to lose who I am,” I declare.
“I don’t want that either. I’m asking you to give me time to sort this out. After that, if you want to go back to school, I’ll be glad to date a co-ed,” he teases.
I giggle. That’s something else I haven’t done in a long time. Laugh. I’ve laughed more in the last two days than I have in two years.
“I think I might be crazy, but okay.”
D rifter hangs with us for a while longer, then finishes his coffee and takes two more cookies. Surprisingly, he’s got a great sense of humor. He’s intimidating as hell when you first meet him and would scare the life out of anyone in a dark alley, but he can be funny. He’s got the kind of dry sense of humor where you’re not quite sure if he’s kidding or not, but then his sly grin tells you he’s pulling your leg.
He’s handsome in a different way from Hawk. His light brown hair looks like soft sand from a Caribbean beach, and his chocolate-brown eyes are deep. They look like they hold a lot of secrets. He has a scar that runs across his temple close to the hairline, but that doesn’t take away from his good looks. It adds an air of mystery to his already mysterious nature.
Hawk is hotter, in my opinion, but that could be because I’ve already had his kiss, and it’s branded into my memory forever. I find myself staring at his mouth, and when he catches me looking, he squeezes my knee as he sits on the couch next to me. He whispers in my ear, “Keep looking at me like that, and Drifter’s gonna catch an eyeful of what I do to you with my mouth.”
Drifter is sitting in the armchair across from us. With the two of them in the living room, there isn’t much space for anything else.
“Hitting the road, Hawk. I’ve got to get me some sleep,” Drifter says, setting down his empty mug and rising from his seat. I’m sure he caught what Hawk was murmuring and is making himself scarce.
“We’ll meet you at the shop at eight. Gather the others for nine,” Hawk tells him. They clasp their hands together in some manly handshake, and Hawk walks him to the door, securing the lock before heading back to me.
I collect the cups and carry them to the sink. I hate leaving dishes until morning, so I give them a quick wash. Boy, oh boy, I’m becoming my mother! She always says, “Why leave it to tomorrow when it takes seconds to get it down today?”
“Babe, you look wiped. Go get ready for bed. I’d appreciate a pillow and an extra blanket if you’ve got one,” Hawk says, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter.
“You can’t sleep on the couch. Only half of you will fit on it.”
“Slept on worse.”
“You take the bed. I’ll fit on the couch.” It’s true, and I find it easier to fall asleep there. Maybe it’s from years of listening to the television drone in the background that does it for me.
“No way am I taking your bed, Ginger. And when I’m in your bed, you’ll be with me,” he states.
I want him in my bed, but this is moving very quickly. and I need to think with my head. The last time I let my heart lead me, it was a disaster.
“I’m not ready for that,” I say in a hushed tone.
“No, you’re not. I don’t force women, and I would never hurt you, Etain. You need time? I’ll give that to you.”
I let out a breath. “Could you sleep in the bed with me, but not…you know…?” I sound like an idiot, and I’m sure my face is matching my flaming-red hair.
He rests his cheek in his palm and bats his eyes. “You know?” He bats his eyes some more. “Know what, babe?” I bite my lip, and he reaches over to take my hand. “I can curb my baser instincts. We won’t take it there, until you’re ready.” ”There” meaning sex. I find it cute that he’s being so playful. It doesn’t stop me from blushing, but he’s been so adorable.
“We can share the bed. I trust you,” I tell him softly.
“Thank you, baby.” His fingers trace the apple of my cheek. “Go get ready for bed. I’m going to take my time to lock everything up tight.”
I do my best not to scurry off and to look somewhat cool when I walk away. I even put a little jauntiness in my step, but inside, my belly is full of butterflies. Not because I don’t trust Hawk, because I do. But because I don’t trust myself. I loved our kiss, and I jumped him the last time. I can’t be certain I won’t do it again.
Hawk
F uck me, she has a perfectly rounded ass, and as she walks away, I think my patience is being tested to the limits. I get where Etain is coming from; she walked out on a relationship she thought was based on mutual trust, and in a little over forty-eight hours, our lips were seared together in a kiss that is burned into my brain forever.
The timing of our getting together sucks. With the Jackals on the prowl and Robert wreaking havoc and screwing with Etain’s mind, the smart thing to do would be to wait it out before we start on us. When I saw Gunner looking at Etain, though, there was no way I could hold off.
Women come and go, and I can usually take ’em or leave ’em, but not Etain. It was an instant connection. I felt it so deep that I swear my heart was speaking to hers. She felt it too. Even in the diner, when our eyes met, there was a moment between us. Giving her a job and a safe place was my way of keeping her in town until our business with the Jackals was over. Plans don’t always go as planned, and that means that I need to take Etain into account and protect her until this is done.
I give Etain some time before walking into the bedroom. The room is lit by a lamp on the bedside table, and in the center of the bed is Etain in a purple tank top, her bottom half covered by the sheet, drawn up and tucked into her sides. Her face is scrubbed clean of makeup, her hair frames her face, and she’s more alluring than ever.
“Got an extra toothbrush?” I ask.
She grins. “I left one by the bathroom sink for you.”
I want to climb into bed, take off her top, and suckle on her breasts until she begs me to take her. Instead, I go into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. It’s not enough to cool me down, so I turn on the shower, strip out of my clothes, and let the cold water rain down on me. Still, the image of Etain waiting for me in bed has me stroking my cock and relieving myself of the pent-up sexual frustration I’m experiencing.
By the time I return to the bedroom, Etain has shifted over to one side to give me space. I text Shooter to have a prospect bring me fresh clothes for the morning before I climb in beside her with a towel wrapped around my waist.
“If you’re trying to tempt me, it’s working,” Etain murmurs.
“Sorry, babe. I wasn’t planning on staying.” I chuckle. I lift my hands so she can see them. “I promise to be good,” I tease.
Her big green eyes grow wide. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
I burst out laughing and she rolls over onto her side with her back to me. I settle in beside her, but can’t help pulling her to me so that we’re spooning. “Be good, baby. Don’t take advantage of a helpless man.”
“You may have to distract me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Your real name’s not Hawk.”
“Not entirely.”
“I feel a little ridiculous wanting to jump your bones and not even knowing your real name,” she mumbles.
“Ethan Hawke-Volpe is my name.”
“That’s why they call you Hawk.”
“Not really. I got the name in the army. I was part of a scouting patrol, and I was always able to spot trouble way before anyone else. I have a keen sense of danger. A gut instinct that hasn’t let me down yet, and eyes like a hawk. It stuck, and soon, the entire troop called me Hawk.”
“It suits you. I should have trusted my gut instinct a year ago. I knew things weren’t right between Robert and me. I ignored it,” she murmurs.
“It was meant to be this way. I never would have met you if you’d done it a year ago,” I whisper.
“I guess you’re right. Do you have family? I mean, besides your club brothers.” I go to move my hand, but she clenches it tight to her belly. I don’t like talking about my family. My parents are snobs, and my older sister, Tara, took off to the farthest college as soon as she could to put distance between them. She settled in California, met a good man, and got married. No kids yet, but they’re trying.
“I do. I’m close to my sister. You’ll meet her one day soon. She’s cool and smart and feisty. Her husband, Donnovan, is a good guy. He’s in construction, renovating mostly. They’re happy, and I’m happy for them.”
“Are your parents still, um, around?” she asks cautiously. She’s assuming my parents are dead. There were times when I was a kid that I wished them dead, but they’re still very much alive.
“They live.” I manage to get the words out.
“You’re not in touch with them?”
“Not unless I have to be.”
“When was the last time you saw them?” She turns her head to look over her shoulder at me.
“Tara’s wedding. They arrived the night before the wedding and caused more chaos than a tornado. In just twelve hours, they managed to upset everyone and threatened not to come to the ceremony if Tara didn’t accede to their demands. Tara was in tears. Donnovan was ready to string my father up by his neck. Mom insulted Tara at every turn, saying everything they’d planned was quaint, according to my mother.” Even a year later, it burns my ass that hurricanes Mandy and Coran blow into town to tear apart their own daughter’s wedding. Of course, our parents would only throw out the insults when I wasn’t in the room. They knew I would never allow their bullshit.
“Quaint is good, isn’t it?” she asks innocently. “I like quaint. Small and personal, simple and elegant. That’s the way I’d like my wedding to be.”
That’s good to know for the future, I decide. “Not to Mandy Hawke-Volpe. To the illustrious parents, “quaint” is another word for cheap. Our mother and father are all about society’s dos and don’ts. Prestige and influence. All kids must attend Ivy League schools, and the men must marry debutants and have two-point-four kids, and a froufrou dog named Precious,” I grit out through my teeth.
She senses my anger, and her fingers strum soothingly along my arm. “We don’t have to talk about them. I didn’t mean to get you upset.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “You might as well know that I hate them. They don’t know what love is and never will. They had kids because it was the appropriate thing to do after getting married. If surrogacy had been an option back then, they would have opted for that so Mom didn’t suffer stretch marks. Some people aren’t meant to have children, and Mandy and Coran are two of them. I got out by joining the army as soon as I turned eighteen. My father lost his mind. Not because I could get killed, but because he was concerned with what people would say. To this day, he tells everyone that I joined to serve my country. And that’s partially true, but I did it to escape the hell I was living in. The pretentious environment where the servants are banished to the other end of the mansion.”
“That’s a mighty big step for a young man. Looks to me that you turned out pretty darn great, though.” She turns in my arms to face me. Her palm cups my cheek. “You rose above the despair and made something for yourself that you’re proud of. I see the way the guys look up to you and respect you.”
“Each and every one of those men has greatness. In our club, I might be the president, but I consider us all equals.”
“And that’s why they recognize your leadership. They know you’re in it with them and for them. It’s too bad your parents haven’t figured out the gifts they’re throwing away. One day, they will, and hopefully, your heart will be big enough to forgive them,” Etain says with a hopeful grin. I want to tell her it’s not fucking likely that’ll happen.
Instead, I say, “Maybe. Someday.” I brush my lips over hers, then over her eyelids. I feel her body relax, her head resting on my chest.
“Your parents did one thing right,” she murmurs.
“What’s that?”
“They gave you an awesome name. Ethan Hawke-Volpe. Strong and sexy, just like you.” Etain places a light kiss on my pec.
My parents were more interested in themselves than they ever were in Tara or me. They weren’t physically abusive. In order to be that, they’d have to be present in our lives. Our nanny, Tilda, was more of a mother to us than our own. It was Tilda who got us ready for school, made our lunches, played games with us, and taught us how to be kids and have fun.
As soon as we were old enough for boarding school, Tara and I were shipped off, and Tilda was no longer employed. But Tilda would come to parents’ day, knowing that our own parents wouldn’t be there due to some charity event that they just couldn’t miss. After the army, I drifted for a while, but I always found work and I made sure that Tilda was taken care of. Tilda now lives in a cottage by the lake, as she always dreamed of, and although she needs constant care, I make sure she has all she needs, because she is my mother. An egg or a sperm donation doesn’t make a parent. Love does. Tilda taught me that.
But I’ll acknowledge that my parents did give me a cool name. I haven’t been called Ethan in so long, and it sounds so much better when Etain says my name.
I hear her steady, even breathing. “Sleep, baby,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.