Chapter Sixteen
Margo stared down at the small chocolate cake with the single candle.
She looked at Hawkeye who stood sheepishly near the door. “Did you do this?”
He gave a jerk of his head. “Did you think I didn’t know it was your birthday?”
“I didn’t think anyone knew.” She swallowed hard.
“Hold on a second.” He grabbed a lighter from his pocket and lit the candle. “No birthday is complete without blowing out a candle and making a wish.”
Her thoughts were all wrapped up in his thoughtfulness. She’d expected to come back to the cottage and sleep, not to find a cake.
Hawkeye picked up the platter and lifted the cake to her. “Don’t you dare blow that candle out yet.” He began singing Happy Birthday to her and her heart swelled the size of Texas. He couldn’t sing but the effort he put into it made it the best rendition of the song she’d ever heard.
“Thank you.” She looked at him over the flame.
“Don’t forget to make a wish,” he said. “Hurry because it’s almost midnight and we need to do this before it’s a day late.”
She found his enthusiasm cute.
She closed her eyes for a single heartbeat then blew out the flame.
“Happy Birthday to you,” he said with a broad smile.
He carefully set the cake down on the table.
“We need plates and silverware. Oh, and a knife.” She stepped over to the drawer and retrieved the items.
“What did you wish for?” he asked as he cut a slice out of the cake and placed it on one plate.
“That’s against the rules.” She dipped the tip of her finger into the icing and licked it off.
“There are birthday wish rules?” He grinned.
She felt her nipples come to attention.
His smile seemed as sweet as the cake she was about to devour.
“Yes. One should never tell anyone what they’ve wished for. It won’t come true.”
“Is there an amount of time you can wait and then reveal what you wished for?”
“I think it’s always to remain between the person and the universe.” She forked a piece of cake and savored the taste of the rich, dark chocolate. “That’s so good. Did you make this?”
“As much as I’d like to say yes, no I didn’t. I wanted it to be edible.”
“I’ll forgive you,” she said around a mouthful.
“I’m handy with a grill but I get lost in a kitchen.”
“Try it.” She shoved a forkful of cake toward him.
He opened his mouth and accepted the bite. “That is good.”
“You’ll have to stop me from eating the entire thing.” She laid the fork down.
“It’s your birthday. You can do whatever you want,” he said with a chuckle.
“Can I?” She felt a little woozy from the sugar rush, or it was the nearness of the handsome man who looked sexy as hell.
“Sure, as long as it’s here at the ranch.
” He lifted a hand. “You have icing on your…” Before he gave her a chance to clean it off, he was doing it for her.
He slid his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip and if that wasn’t enough to erupt a tsunami inside her he licked the icing off his finger.
Holy cow.
His eyes glistened with something she couldn’t quite identify.
Her breath came in shallow pants.
Her body was aching with a need that came remarkably close to torment.
She had no clue if she should act upon the desire or wait for him to make a move. What if he was waiting for her to take the plunge? She wanted his kiss. He was a good kisser. Desperation swirled inside of her.
What would one of her leading, daring characters do?
He could read her mind because he took her empty plate, set it on the table. Then it came. They met each other halfway. He tasted like chocolate, and it was an aphrodisiac to her senses. His plush lips, the stroke of his tongue, all led her down a path of pure ecstasy.
Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against him. He walked her backward until they reached the couch and she dropped back onto the cushion. She gave a little whimper, but the sound was lost when he crawled on top of her, their lips connecting again.
She parted her lips to allow his tongue inside, enjoying the tender sweep over her lips and the roof of her mouth that tickled her senses. The languid pace of the kiss turned more exploring. His hands were on her shoulders, her neck as the kiss became almost desperate.
As a writer she always wanted to find fitting descriptions for everything. Explosive. That was a fitting description.
The richness of chocolate lingered on their lips as they continued to kiss and touch, but over their clothes as if an invisible line had been drawn.
His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging at the roots and sending a feverish awareness washing over her trembling body.
He scooped her up and laid her more comfortably on the couch so they both would fit without separating their lips.
She melted into the worn cushion, feeling the springs push against her back but she didn’t dare complain.
Too wrapped in the sensations he was provoking she could have been zapped with a cattle prod and it would have only added to her sensations.
He lifted his mouth and explored other parts of her. Her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, and the tops of her breasts exposed in the scoop of the dress’s low neckline. She slid her fingers in his hair, scraping his scalp with her nails. Where had his hat gone? At some point it had fallen to the floor.
He had nice, thick hair. She liked tugging it.
His kisses were that of a starving man. She’d gladly volunteer to be his feast.
He lifted her skirt, sliding his warm, callused fingers upward on her thigh, leaving a splattering of tingles along his path.
His mouth found hers again, but only for a peck before he pulled back, bracing himself on his knees as he hauled off his shirt.
The cowboy was built. She didn’t even notice the scars because all she could see was his broad chest and the dips and valleys of his six pack.
She made this wish when she’d blown out the candle.
To have him want her and make love to her.
Every woman should be devoured on her birthday.
She reached up and slipped her fingers under the straps of the sundress, pulling it down to her waist. His gaze fixated on her bare breasts, and she felt beautiful.
“My God, you have amazing tits,” he said on an exhale.
There were many parts of her body she could complain about, but she liked her breasts. They were neither large nor small and were firm.
He touched one nipple, rolling the bead between his fingers, his eyes glazed with desire. Lowering his mouth, he flicked the nipple with his tongue and sucked the nub into his mouth. She arched into him, offering her body for his pleasure. Like the candle, she had a flame that needed extinguished.
She watched in admiration while he lavished his attention on her breasts. Her core pulsated with need and all she wanted was for him to fill her. To unite their bodies in a dance as old as time.
Tilting her head back on the arm rest, she closed her eyes, relishing in the deliciousness of his mouth teasing her flesh.
Opening her eyes, her breath caught. She saw something in the window. There was someone standing outside. Then in the blink of an eye the person was gone.
Margo gasped, shoving Hawkeye’s shoulders.
He lifted his head, staring at her in confusion.
Her voice, it wouldn’t work.
“What’s wrong, Margo?”
She lifted her hand and pointed toward the window. “Someone. Outside.” She forced the words through her quivering lips.
He lifted himself to his knees, staring down at her. “What? I’m not sure…”
His brain must have been in a fog because he wasn’t listening and comprehending.
“Hawkeye, there was someone standing outside the window. I saw them,” she whispered because she was afraid to speak too loudly.
Then clarity came to him.
Jumping off the couch, he reached for the front door, nearly pulling it off the hinges as he disappeared outside.
She pulled her dress up, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Getting up, she walked to the open door, a rush of colder air blasted her skin.
Where did Hawkeye go?
She searched through the fog. Seeing nothing. Hearing only the faint yips of a pack of coyotes in the distance.
Stepping out onto the porch in her bare feet, she slipped on the wood covered in dew but caught herself on the rail. She must be still a little tipsy.
“Hawkeye?” Her knees shook. She drew in a deep breath to settle her worry.
She heard soft footsteps in the grass. They grew louder. Was it Hawkeye?
Holding her breath, she wouldn’t have been able to draw oxygen into her lungs if her life depended upon it.
Then he appeared. The angular lines of his face were hard.
“Anything?” she asked.
“Let’s go inside,” he said gruffly.
Without any hesitation she walked inside and he followed, closing and locking the door behind them. He remained silent, just watching her.
“Did you see him?” she said more forcefully.
He shook his head, his expression of confusion had returned. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“I saw someone. I know I did. Do you believe me?” She wrapped her arms around her waist for comfort. She knew someone had been watching them.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you. Maybe it was someone coming to the door, they saw us and took off.”
She gave her head a jerky shake side to side. “No. They weren’t at the door. They were standing at the window looking inside.”
“Did you get a look at who it was?”
“No. It was too dark.” Disappointment flooded her.
He came to her and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face onto his chest, allowing herself to relax against him. She started to doubt herself. Maybe she had just seen a shadow. Maybe she was drunk and didn’t realize how much.
“I’m sorry, Hawkeye,” she whispered.
He pulled back and used his thumb to lift her chin. “Look at me.” When she did, he said, “What are you apologizing about?”
“Maybe I’m mistaken. I did have too much to drink. I don’t think I’m still tipsy, but I’ve had a lot happen over the last week. My mind…it’s super sensitive.”
“It’s okay. You have every right and reason to be paranoid. I think what you need is a good night’s sleep,” he said so sweetly that she wouldn’t have been able to argue.
Although she tried to defend what she saw, she had no clue what was real.
“Can I get you anything? Water?” he asked.
“No.” She looked up at him, ready to be vulnerable. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”
Without hesitation, he nodded. Did she sense his relief? That he didn’t want to leave. “I’ll stay. You do what you need to do for bed, and I’ll take care of the cake and the lights.”
She went to the bathroom and washed her face with cold water. She slipped off the dress, grabbed the T-shirt off the hook and pulled it on, and didn’t bother picking up the dress before she shut off the light and left the bathroom.
Hawkeye was climbing into bed. He’d taken off his shirt and jeans but the moment between them had passed. Real life had creeped in.
She climbed in beside him.
“I have to be up early to do chores, so I’ll be gone before you wake,” he said.
She nodded against the pillow then slid closer to him.
He wrapped his arm around her, and she laid her head on his chest, liking how she fit perfectly in the crook of his arm.
She could hear the strong beat of his heart, and it lulled her.
This was what she missed. Just being near someone who wanted to comfort her.
Listening, she patterned her breath with his. It helped to slow her pulse and get her nerves under control.
He nuzzled his nose in her hair. “You smell so good.”
“It’s the face wash.”
“Try and relax. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He kissed the top of her head.
She tried her best. She wasn’t afraid now being here with him. He offered her safety and support, but she still wondered who could have been outside.
“Hawkeye?”
“Hmm?” he asked in a sleepy tone.
“Do you think the men who killed Leo could have found me?”
He didn’t answer right away. She respected that he wasn’t quick to make promises or silence her fears.
“The men involved, they aren’t peeping types. They come bearing guns and aren’t afraid to use them. So, the answer’s no. I don’t think they’ve found us.”
He was probably right.
“I just can’t shake the fact that it looked like someone was there.”
His thumb traced an invisible circle on her skin. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
She closed her eyes, and she fell asleep listening to the rhythmic, strong beating of his heart. There was something indescribably comforting lying cradled in his arms.