Chapter 3 #2
“They’re still at the part of the story where they think they know each other, but they’re both super wrong, and they want each other but aren’t ready to admit it. There’s so much unresolved sexual tension it’s practically clogging the air.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You know?”
“Huh? Oh. Sure. Yeah. I can… I can imagine that,” I agreed. The kitchen was stiflingly warm, but I fought the urge to tug at my collar.
“So they’re in the front hall arguing—tension crackling like lightning in the air—when Lady Catherine comes looking for them.
And they dislike each other, but they dislike Lady Catherine even more, so they duck into this closet without really thinking about it.
Except once they’re in there together… they’re committed.
No matter how uncomfortable it gets, they can’t leave or make a single sound because Eli’s reputation would be in tatters if they were caught.
They’re stuck in that tiny space with Darcy pressed up against Eli’s back.
Thigh to thigh. Practically cheek to cheek. ”
“Oh. Uh-huh.” I swallowed hard, trying not to look like I was imagining Hawk and me in that position, even though I very much was. “Wow. Yeah. That sounds—”
“The problem is,” he went on solemnly, “there’s still that pesky sexual attraction. Even though they want it to go away. Even though they’re pretending it doesn’t exist.”
“That’s… rough.” I cleared my throat. “So, anyway—”
“So when they’re forced to be that tightly fitted together—rubbing up against each other with every breath, sharing the same air—they can’t hide their attraction anymore. Darcy sees that Eli is hard under his breeches, and Eli notices Darcy’s breathing getting fast and choppy…”
I knew my breath was coming faster, but I couldn’t stop it. I stared into Hawk’s golden-brown eyes, and I couldn’t have looked away even if the roof collapsed.
“So they get naked, right there in the closet.” Hawk’s voice was only a whisper now.
“Unbuttoning the falls of their pants, all quick and dirty, but trying to be so, so quiet, too, so that no one can hear them. Darcy ends up on his knees, rimming Eli. And Eli… he’s never done that before, but it feels so good he can’t help moaning.
So Darcy gets to his feet, grabs Eli by the throat, and pins him against the wall—” Hawk demonstrated with a hand around his own throat.
“—then kisses him to keep him quiet while he finishes him off with his big, strong hand.” Hawk licked his lips like he was tasting a kiss there.
“I can’t decide if I’d like that or not. ”
My throat clicked with the effort of replying. “Erk” was all I managed to get out.
“Do you like that?” he asked, head tilted to one side like we were just making casual conversation now.
I was not feeling casual. Not in the slightest. My dick was hard as a rock, and I was in very real danger of lighting something on fire again… probably myself. Spontaneous human combustion in Little Pippin Hollow! Film at eleven.
“Nn-hn. Hnh?”
“Anyway.” Hawk shrugged. “Yeah, fine. Hiking tomorrow.”
I managed an affirmative-sounding noise.
“Good,” Hawk agreed. “We’ll take the Red Trail to Glassy Ridge. I have some… frustration that I need to work off.”
He chucked the soggy, charred rag in the trash, then moved to the stove, putting away the onions and cleaning out the pan with competent efficiency while I watched, my brain still flatlining as all the blood in my body abandoned it.
When he was done, he turned to me. “You ready?”
Ready? I blinked, still thinking about closets and rimming and…
He reached up to flip the light switch on the wall, and his T-shirt rode up again, this time revealing the hot turquoise band of his underwear.
I stared at the pale skin over firm muscles until it imprinted in my brain and wondered what it would feel like to run my fingertip over that smooth stretch of skin, to sneak the finger under the elastic band and follow the trail with my tongue…
“Erk,” I said again.
Hawk rolled his eyes and strode to the back door. “Eight a.m. tomorrow at the first pull-off leading to Fogg Peak. Maybe bring some of those oatmeal cherry cookie things, unless you have any Thin Mints left. Don’t be late.”
“Nuh,” I agreed, now thinking of cherries again.
If my brain-to-mouth connection had been working, I’d probably have asked him about his plans for the night and whether they included finding a random stranger on an app—or that weirdly perky Simon character—to take his virginity. Instead, all I could do was watch him walk away again.
This was getting to be a habit, and I didn’t like it one bit.
Thankfully, my mom distracted me for the first part of the evening by grilling me on this month’s business expenses so she could update the books for the diner.
The Bedlington terrier she’d recently adopted had taken an unhealthy liking to my shoelaces and tried to trip me up at least three times while I chopped vegetables for our late-dinner summer salad.
“Dammit, Peony,” I muttered for the tenth time. “Move out of my way.”
“Aww,” Mom cooed, scratching the cute little runt under the chin. “He likes you. You should have seen what a jerk he was to the UPS guy the other day.”
“Attempted murder isn’t the same thing as like,” I grumbled. “And who decided to give the dog a name that sounds like pee on me? That seems incredibly short-sighted.”
“It’s because he’s fluffy and sweet like a peony flower. Isn’t that right, my angel? Yes, it is. Yes it is.”
I grunted. “He looks like the byproduct of a sheep getting a little too friendly with a stuffed teddy bear.”
“Hush. Don’t listen to him, Peony. You’re perfection.”
The dog scurried away, probably to mount an attack on some unsuspecting throw pillows in the living room.
“What has you in a bad mood?” my mom asked idly as she turned back to the laptop she’d set up on the kitchen island. It may have seemed like she was only listening with one ear, but I knew better.
“Bad mood? Pssht. I’m in a fine mood.”
“Okay.” She clicked a few keys on the keyboard.
“Business is going okay, right? Revenues are pretty comparable with last year. We’re fully staffed for the first time in months. If things keep up, I might be able to put aside a little savings to update the kitchen, if my bookkeeper agrees.”
“Mmhmm. I do.”
“My house has a solid roof, finally. Oh, and the addition I was telling you about is almost done—the fireplace is in, and Remy Fortnum’s making me some shelves that’ll be perfect for the space. Exactly as I pictured.”
“How nice.”
“There was even a sale on socks at the Save-a-Ton, and I got a whole bunch of those wool ones I like,” I said a little desperately. “So.” I set my jaw. “There’s no reason at all for me to be in a bad mood or even a less-than-wonderful mood. Obviously.”
She nodded without looking up. “You sure you don’t wanna use my blender for that, honey? It has an excellent puree function.”
I looked down at the carrots I’d been chopping and discovered they’d been diced into a fine pulp. “Dammit.” I walked over to scrape the mess into the sink before starting again.
“So… how’s Hawk?” she asked, deliberately, carefully casual.
I nearly sliced my finger with the sharp blade before slapping the knife down on the counter and holding up my hand in surrender. “Can we not do this thing? This thing where you speak in code and act all nonchalant?”
Her eyes finally came up to meet mine, sparkling with amusement.
“Oh, I’m chalant. I’m very chalant. And I’m pretty darned sure something happened between the two of you.
First clue was that you’ve been irritable and distracted this whole week.
Second clue—” She pursed her lips. “—is that Hawk isn’t here with you when he never misses a chance to visit Peony, which leads me to deduce that the problem is with him… ”
“Deduce,” I scoffed. “Okay, Sherlock Holmes.”
“And third—” She shifted so her elbows were propped on the island, and the scuffed gold band she still wore after thirty years of widowhood glinted dully in the overhead light.
“—I was at the library the other day and overheard Hawk asking Lars Yetzer if they have any copies of Mars and Venus in the Workplace.” She sniffed.
“I almost intervened to tell him Venus and Mars are irrelevant if he’s having a problem with you, and outdated in any case, but I didn’t.
Because I’m not the kind of parent who tries to interfere in her son’s life… ” She lifted her chin a notch. “Much.”
The revelation that Hawk was frustrated enough with me to seek out a book about workplace relations made my stomach hurt. “Wait, he asked for that book? Are you sure?”
She hesitated. “Well, yes. I don’t know why, of course. Could be that he’s trying to improve his relationship with Katey… though I thought she was pretty easygoing now that she’s put away her obsession with Hawk’s brother.”
“She kinda had to since Webb and Luke are married now,” I muttered. “But there were a few moments last spring that were a little hairy, so it could be that. Or maybe it’s Crys. She can be… direct.”
I wasn’t sure yet about my newest employee.
Crystal Hardin had moved to Little Pippin Hollow a few months ago, just when our business was picking up for the summer season.
She’d already accepted a part-time job as a bartender at the Bugle when she’d come to me asking to pick up a few shifts a week at Panini Jack’s.
It had seemed serendipitous at the time, but then she and Hawk started getting closer to the point where I felt a little… left out.
“Nah, those two are thick as thieves,” Mom corrected, reading my mind as usual. “I doubt it’s anything to do with her.”
“Well, it’s nothing to do with me either,” I said firmly, despite my fears to the contrary. “Hawk and I are friends. As usual. As always. In fact, we’re going for another hike tomorrow.”