Chapter 11
Icame awake slowly, too comfortable to be yanked out of sleep. The light peeking around the edges of the blanket covering the window had the clarity of daytime but was dim enough to tell me it was overcast and probably still snowing. Relief spread through me. I didn”t want to leave the cabin yet.
Despite the trip here. Despite my sprained ankle. Even though someone had tried to kidnap and probably kill me, I didn’t want to leave. Maybe that made me crazy. I didn’t care.
I”d had a great night. Dinner with Hawk had featured in my fantasies for a while. In reality, it had lived up to—no, surpassed—my hopes. He wasn’t chatty. Of course not. He was Hawk. He was never going to be chatty. That was okay, though, because I could go either way. Sometimes I liked to talk. Sometimes I loved the quiet. Talking to Hawk had been weirdly comfortable, considering we hadn’t exchanged more than a few words in the past year. I could have sat and talked to him all night.
I blinked at the light, finally registering why I was so comfortable. It wasn’t the feather duvet and fleece blankets. It was that my mattress was a long body, hard with muscle, warm, and smelling of spice and Hawk. Somehow I’d inched halfway across the bed, ending up mostly on top of him, my thigh snuggled between his, my hip squarely on top of a very impressive erection. Was that for me? I wanted to think so. I really wanted to think so. If it was for me, I might get my hands on it one of these days. But he was human, and that wonderfully thick cock could just be a morning thing. Nothing to do with me at all.
And how had I gotten all the way over here? I gave a mental eye roll. Had I really thought I wouldn’t? I should have known I’d gravitate to Hawk in sleep, just like I wanted to when I was awake.
I didn”t move. I was too warm, too blissfully comfortable, and exactly where I wanted to be. The second Hawk woke, he’d be gone. He wouldn’t like this at all. Or, based on the hard length pressing into my hip, he liked it way too much. Which was exactly the reason he”d want to get the hell away the second he realized I was on top of him.
I stayed where I was, savoring the feel of him beneath me, the solid rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear. I felt it the second he woke up, his shoulders tightening, the sharp intake of breath just beyond my ear. Any second now, he’d disappear. Mentally, I braced, keeping my body relaxed, my breath even.
He shifted beneath me, and a gentle weight came down on the top of my head. His hand stroked my hair in a slow sweep. Once. Again. His fingers combed through the strands at the base of my neck, lingering, the tips warm on my skin before they moved away. Hawk drew in a long breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. His hand lifted, the backs of his fingers stroking the side of my cheek, moving down to gather my hair, combing his fingers through the strands, every tug against my scalp setting off fireworks in my brain. I was in heaven.
Unexpected tears pricked my eyes. We’d started out with me lying on top of him, but now it was something more. His hand on my hair felt like… I didn’t know what. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched me like this. With care. With longing. With reverence. I didn’t know what to do. I’d dreamed about kissing him, touching him, Hawk touching me. I hadn’t dared to dream of anything like this.
I hadn’t known I wanted it. How much I needed it. Especially from Hawk.
With a jerk, he yanked his arm back, his body suddenly stiff. A second later, I was facedown on warm sheets, the blankets settling over me. I didn”t know he could move that fast. A door closed with a sharp click. He’d fled to the bathroom. I stayed where I was, curious what his next move would be.
When he was done in the bathroom, would he come back into the bedroom? Or was he going to double down on the disappearing act?
I didn’t have to wait long for my answer. The bathroom door opened. My eyes closed to slits, I watched him stride past the doorway into the kitchen, his jaw hard. I couldn’t say I was surprised. Not by his flight. But before, the way he held me, stroked my hair—I would have given everything for another minute of that. And while it didn’t tell me for sure if that erection was about me, now I knew he wasn’t as indifferent to me as he pretended to be.
I heard him move into the kitchen, then the click of a lighter, the clank of metal. Coffee? I could only hope.
I lay in bed and thought over my next move. If any other man had run after spending the night with me, I might have been offended. Not with Hawk. The only reason he wanted to get away from me was because he didn”t want to get away from me. I understood that much.
I’d heard about Hawk dressing down Finn for daring to get involved with Savannah. I knew in Hawk”s mind there was family, and there was staff, and that line should not be crossed. And on top of that, I was Griffen”s little sister. A guy like Hawk would see that as an automatic no-go. But I also knew there was something between us. It wasn’t just me. He felt it too. Lifting my hand, I touched my cheek, still feeling Hawk stroke the backs of his fingers there.
He felt it too.
I could admit I had a crush. Since the moment I saw him, I thought Hawk was smoking hot in that rugged I can get shit done and know what I”m doing kind of way that always got to me. And he was smart. Really smart. I liked his sly sense of humor, the deadpan way he dropped comments most people missed with that glint of laughter in his eyes.
Yeah, I had more than just a crush on Hawk Bristol. He didn”t treat me like he did my sisters. He never yelled at them, for one thing. A few days ago, I would have said I had no shot with him. But now I thought I had a chance. A slim chance. Very slim, given how firmly Hawk had put me on the other side of that line he refused to cross.
Still, I had a chance. I just wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it. Not yet.
I rose up on my elbows, turning to look at the glow of light around the blanket Hawk had tacked up. The snow had bought me some time. A window of opportunity. But with every inch those clouds moved, my window closed a little more. Soon the snow would end, the trail would be passable, and my chance would be gone.
Yeah, there was a creepy bad guy out there, armed with zip ties and a knife. Probably much more than just a knife. I should be the one desperate to get out of here. It wasn’t that I wasn’t taking it seriously. It just didn”t feel real. Not here in this cozy cabin, my face snuggled into a pillow that smelled of Hawk.
The pillow under my cheek felt real. Hawk felt real. My sprained ankle felt real.
Not the bad guy in the woods.
I”d worry about him when the snow stopped. Until that happened, no one was going anywhere.
I sat up, wincing just a little as the covers dragged at the toes of my right foot. Not the nauseating pain of the day before, but it wasn’t nothing. I sat on the side of the bed, shifting to put weight on my left foot. Then a little on my right. A stabbing throb, but not agony. Improvement. I’d take it.
Another day of rest, ibuprofen, and ice, and it would be even better tomorrow. I wouldn’t be walking for another few days, but I wouldn’t be incapacitated for weeks. As much as I wanted to push my healing so I could enjoy my vacation, I had clients booked in a week, and I needed a functional ankle to do my job.
Like the bad guy in the woods, that was a problem for later. I started to stand, then realized my pack was on the other side of the bed. I flopped back and rolled to the opposite side of the mattress. The scent of coffee filled the small cabin. If there was coffee, I’d figure out a way to get my ass to the kitchen.
I hauled my pack up from where it leaned against the side of the bed and dug around for the stuff sacks with my clothes. I pulled out clean underwear, stretchy yoga pants, and a tank top I could wear under my fleece. Assuming I”d be here alone, I hadn’t packed much. I had plenty of clean underwear and socks, but I”d planned to wear tank tops or T-shirts all week, so that was all I had.
Keeping my clothes in one hand, I stood, trying out a single hopping step. That same stabbing throb from before. I was sure my ankle wasn’t broken, but it definitely needed rest—without weight—for as long as I could stand it. Walking was not happening.
I sighed, mentally recalculating. I had a set of collapsible trekking poles strapped to the side of my pack. I didn”t use them often, but given that the weather was supposed to shift, I’d thought they might come in handy.
I wouldn’t be doing any hiking, but I could probably use one as a crutch. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than crawling. Putting my clothes down, I expanded both poles and rolled my clothes into a ball that I shoved under my left arm. Holding my clothes to my side, I put weight on both poles and tried the same hopping step maneuver with the aid of the trekking poles. I didn’t get far. But at least I wasn’t completely immobile.
The second I took another hopping step, Hawk was there, his eyes narrowed, face twisted in a dark scowl. “What are you doing?” he barked.