9. Hawk
Hawk
If I thought teenagers getting ready for school took forever, apparently it takes an entire Saturday for a woman to get her hair done.
I spotted Miss Hollifield in a chair at the salon when I stopped in to talk to Clara about the girls. But the way Miss Hollifield was hiding under that magazine made me think it was not the best time to say hi.
I grabbed a coffee at a little joint a couple shops away, but I’ve been hanging out on my bike waiting for what seems like hours.
Small price to pay.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but seeing her again like this felt like a fucking sign.
When opportunity knocks, you answer the door or you miss out. And when opportunity has tits for days, thighs that make you drool, and hazel eyes that make you forget everything around you, you yank that fucking door open.
I’m parked next to her SUV, scrolling on my phone, when the salon door opens. Miss Hollifield pushes on a pair of sunglasses, heading toward her car.
I tip my chin as she approaches, and I can see the recognition along with an instantaneous smile cover her face. The door is open, and I’m charging through.
“You were beautiful before,” I tell her. “But now, fuck me.” I let that hang between us without going too much further.
She takes the bait. “After one dinner?” She shakes the shiny hair she just had done, and her lips quirk up at the sides. “I thought we agreed this—” she waves a hand between us “—was a bad idea.”
I have to bite back the shit-eating grin that wants to spread across my face. “I don’t consider myself an agreeable kind of guy. You sure that was me, or you thought it was a bad idea?”
“You’re one of a kind,” she mutters, but her lips part now in a full smile as she cocks her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d accuse you of stalking, Mr. Greco.”
“I started out here on legitimate business,” I tell her. “But now, I’ve got only one reason to be here in this parking lot. That reason is you.”
My directness seems to rattle her a bit. She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and thinks about how to respond. Delicious. Something subtle but very, very sexy shifts in her then. If she had decided I was no good for her, she seems to be reconsidering.
She steps closer to me and lowers her voice. “Curious about hair color? Research for your next babysitting gig? I don’t know if you know this, but that place is full of curling irons. It’s very dangerous.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m all done playing house,” I tell her. “I’m here for something else entirely.”
She takes a deep breath, and it’s as if I can hear the wheels in her mind turning. “Hawk…” She rasps out my name, and the sweet hitch in her breathing makes my cock twitch just a bit.
I see my opening, and I take it, full throttle. “I owe you flowers, and you owe me a drink.”
“I owe you?” she tosses back. “I don’t recall putting myself in any kind of debt to you.”
I climb off my bike and lean against her SUV.
I decide to claim what I want. It’s the only way I know how to be.
“So, you’re telling me that fire that I know is in your eyes under those dark glasses isn’t because you see something you like?
If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I think you’re intrigued.
I think you might even be curious.” I lace my fingers together and crack my knuckles, and I can see the fine hairs on her arms lift. “Am I wrong, Miss Hollifield?”
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. I can’t help myself.
I lower my sunglasses and make sure she sees my eyes roam from the top of her beautiful new hair color, over the relaxed T-shirt with a deep V neck, and all the way down the snug black yoga pants. “Go on, Miss High School Principal,” I tell her. “School me.”
She shakes her head and chuckles under her breath. “You’re clever,” she says. “And persistent.”
“Keep going,” I tell her. “Big words turn me on. I bet you have a whole head full of them.”
She flares her nostrils. “Hawk…”
“Miss H.…”
She fumbles in her purse for her keys and clicks the fob to unlock the doors.
“You leaving so soon? We were just about to make plans.”
She shakes her head again, but she is grinning.
“One date,” I say, picking up on all the signs that she’s giving off.
Yeah, she’s out of my league. Yeah, she’s probably completely wrong for me.
And yeah, I’ve been known to throw every lick of sense I was born with right into the fire for a perfect ass and a pair of tits I’d like to get lost in. “Drinks. Tonight.”
“And then what?” she asks, putting a hand on her hip. “You lose interest?” She strolls up to me and trails a finger along the embroidered patch on my vest. “Hawk. You know, you’re a lot like one.”
“One what?” I grab her hand in mine and hold it.
She meets my eyes, looks down at our hands, and lifts a brow, but she doesn’t pull away.
I release it immediately, leaving her wanting more.
“Hawks are hunters. They are fast. They go after what they want.”
“Guilty.” I lean closer to her, so close I can smell the expensive-ass products they used on her hair. I catch a glimpse of her neck, her collarbone, her ear, and goddamn, my mouth waters. “But I’m no predator. I just know what I want when I see it.”
“I’m not a hookup,” she warns, her stunning hazel eyes never leaving mine.
“I never thought you were.” My words are sharp because I mean them. “It’s not like that. So, if we agree this isn’t a hookup, you’ll come out with me tonight?”
She looks down at the hand I just released. Then, as though she’s readying herself to make a very bad decision, she sighs. “This can’t work,” she says quietly. “It never does.” She surprises me by leaning against her SUV beside me, our legs lightly touching.
That strikes me like an arrow to the chest. I know the feeling all too well. If I were smart, I’d pay attention to her words.
Maybe I am stupid as stone and should learn from my past mistakes, like Sadie. But I can’t. Something about this woman draws me in.
Maybe I’m hell-bent on self-destruction. I see a woman I can’t have, a woman I have no business wanting, and all I can think about is claiming her.
“I know that feeling,” I tell her, and I mean it. “I’ve been stomped on so hard by love I should have boot prints on my face.” I suck in a chestful of air and shrug. “And yet, here I am, practically begging the world’s most gorgeous high school principal to give me a chance.”
She snorts. “Hawk…”
“One drink. One night.” I turn and face her. “I piss you off, you leave. And I’ll delete your number from my phone.”
“But then you’ll show up at my next hair appointment or my school.”
I can tell by the sound of her voice she’s teasing. “You know I’m no stalker. This was serendipity.”
“Now you’re turning me on with the big words.” Her smile is looking more and more like a yes. “I don’t know anything about you,” she says. “What you do, where you grew up. You could be married, for all I know.”
I hold up my left hand. “Not married anymore. Legally divorced two years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“Don’t be.” I shrug. “She was a good woman. Just not good to me.”
A shadow crosses over her face. “I seem to have that effect on men too.” Her voice is soft. “I only ever wanted to belong to something, you know? Something bigger than myself. Does that make sense?”
I nod. “More than you know.”
She sighs and wraps her hands around her arms. “When you lose your parent, your family… I didn’t come up with this saying, but I heard it years ago and it’s stuck with me. Some holes can never be mended.”
She’s blinking now, her sunglasses held in her fingers so she can press the heel of one hand against her eyes. “I guess I grew up believing that I’d get my chance to be a mother and a wife. Have a family of my own. A do-over of all those things that I lost when we lost my mom.”
“And that hasn’t happened.” Yet.
She licks her lips and cocks her head at me. “Nope.” She leans close to me, and I get another whiff of her hair—it smells luxurious and rich. My mouth waters in response. “I never really make it far in relationships. I think I’m hard to handle.”
A throaty laugh rasps through my chest. “I could handle you, Miss H. I know I could. The question is how exactly you like to be handled…”
“Trouble,” she murmurs through softly pursed lips. “You are pure trouble. So, you’re divorced. What do you do for a living?”
I hold up one finger and wag it in the air. “You got one free question. Divorced, no kids. You want more, I’ll tell you over drinks.”
“I see.” She turns to leave and opens the car door. Then she turns back to face me. “What time and where?”
Heat spills through my chest at her words. I hold the door open for her while she climbs in. “I’ll pick you up.” I point to my ride. “Wear jeans. You’re going to be on the back of that.”
“I assume you have a helmet?”
I grin. She didn’t say no. And hell yes, I have a helmet. “Got you covered. Where am I picking you up?”
She sets her purse down on the passenger seat and pulls out her phone. She texts me her address, my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out to make sure she’s not fucking with me.
She’s not.
She’s sent me an address that I recognize—a really nice condo complex near the high school.
“Seven o’clock,” I tell her.
She nods and gives me a look that sends another flare of fire through my chest. “Looking forward to it, Hawk.”
I clap a hand on the SUV, and she pulls out of the spot. Hot fucking damn. She said yes. And now I just need to not fuck this up. Or let her fuck me over. I don’t think I could handle that again.