Chapter 14
Iwaited, the minutes stretching so long they felt like hours. When I checked my watch, it had been just shy of a half hour when Hawk’s return was heralded with the three-tap knock I”d come to recognize, the key turning smoothly in the lock.
Hawk shut the door firmly behind him, every inch of his body covered in snow. “Cold out there,” he said, hanging his jacket by the door and loosening the laces on his boots with quick, efficient tugs, setting them in the tray before brushing the snow off his waterproof, insulated pants. Moving to stand in front of the woodstove, he let the heat dry him off.
“Any sign of anything?” I asked, studying him for any indication we had a problem.
If he’d seen anything that worried him, he was hiding it well. “No. I think we”re good for now. Visibility is crap, like you said.”
Unspoken was that when it cleared, we”d have some decisions to make.
“Another pot of coffee?” Hawk asked. “Or some of that cocoa?”
“Cocoa would be great,” I said. “Unless you want coffee.”
“Cocoa is good.” Hawk scanned me, looking for…I wasn’t sure what. His eyes landed on my ankle, his dark brows pulling together. “How”s that wrap feel? Too loose?”
I wiggled my toes. “It feels better than it did yesterday. I think the bandage is tight enough.”
“I”m going to pack some snow around it again. Then I’ll make that cocoa.”
In minutes, Hawk had my ankle set up and milk steaming on the stove, the chocolate bars I’d brought for cocoa filling the cabin with alluring scents. Hawk made a mean cup of cocoa. I had a feeling there wasn’t much Hawk couldn’t do.
The day passed too quickly. Far more quickly than I would have thought, given that we were stuck in the cabin without much to do. Hawk was easy company. I had my book and my cocoa. He dug an old Western novel off the shelves by the fireplace and sank into a leather armchair. We read in companionable silence until lunch, when Hawk put together a meal out of the canned and freeze-dried stuff I’d brought along.
I liked good food, hence the steaks we’d eaten the night before, along with the ice cream and cocoa. But when I was camping, convenience and overall weight were more important than my taste buds. Camping meals in a pouch were easy to carry and easy to prepare in a basic kitchen like this one. Add in some canned veggies and we had a feast.
After lunch, we went back to our books until Hawk closed his slimmer volume and got up to return it to the bookcase. He returned with an ancient deck of Uno cards, and I marked my place in my book, setting it aside. I was always up for some Uno. He pulled his armchair over to the couch, and we had an Uno tournament, using the seat of a chair as a tabletop.
Hawk might be inclined to baby my injured ankle, but he was no pushover when it came to Uno. He was sly and sneaky, dealing reverses and draw fours just when they’d do the most damage. I didn”t win a single game, cards stacking in my hand until I could barely hold them while his diminished one by one. He destroyed me. I loved it. Not that I liked losing, but the sheer impossibility of beating him, combined with seeing him like this—relaxed, having fun—meant I didn’t care about winning. I just liked making him smile.
Hawk didn”t gloat, but the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he called “Uno” on the last game was enough. I threw my handful of cards at his face.
“I”m never playing Uno with you again,” I said, with a glare that was mostly pretend.
For that, I got a full-on grin, his unhidden delight in kicking my ass filling my heart with warmth. I liked making this man smile. I liked it far more than I should, and I did not care. He could beat me at Uno every day if he’d grin at me like this, his dark eyes bright with humor, his lips turned up in genuine amusement.
We ate again as the light dimmed, the wind outside still whipping through the trees. Dinner was canned beef stew, followed by ice cream and more cocoa. By nine thirty, my eyes were drooping.
“I don”t know why I”m so tired,” I said. “I haven”t done anything but lie around all day.”
“Your body is trying to heal,” Hawk replied. “And lying around makes you sluggish. When we get back, we”ll get you set up with some crutches.”
“That”ll be better.” I nodded, letting out a dissatisfied grunt. “I”m going to have to reschedule my clients. My ankle is better than yesterday, but it’s not going to be up to fishing next week. I’ll call some other guides and see if they have openings. I hate to ruin anyone”s vacation.”
I didn’t want to think about how long it would be before I could go back to work. It wasn’t just losing the income. I loved the beginning of trout season, loved being outside in March, the dance between winter and spring in full steam. Today it was whipping wind and sheets of snow. Next week it could be a sunny sixty-five, not a flake of snow in sight. And I would be missing it.
At least I’d made it to the cabin for a day or two. I’d come around to the idea that we were going home the second it was safe. I wanted to be out of here if the man in the woods came back.
I should wish I’d never left Heartstone Manor. But watching Hawk approach, his arm out to help me to my feet, I couldn’t do that.
In just over twenty-four hours, I’d gotten to know Hawk far better than I had in the year since we’d met. And the more I knew, the more I wanted to know. And now, even knowing we had a greater threat than the weather, I still couldn’t bring myself to be sorry. When this was over, Hawk would probably go back to one-syllable responses and quick exits. But for now, I had him all to myself.
I stood, leaning into Hawk’s side, letting him lead me to the small bathroom. I could have hopped along with the help of my trekking pole, but I wasn’t ashamed to take what I could get if it was coming from Hawk.
Like we had the night before, Hawk helped me to the bathroom, then to the bed. Unlike the night before, this time he didn”t argue over taking the other side of the bed. Instead, he tucked me in on my side, said he’d be back, and disappeared down the hall. I settled into my pillows to the sound of dishes clanking against the sink. I had to admire his forethought. I’d bet his plan was to get me tucked in, then kill time cleaning the kitchen while he waited for me to fall asleep, thus avoiding the awkwardness of lying silent beside me, both of us pretending we didn’t know what had happened last night.
I thought about how quickly he”d escaped the bed this morning. It was clear he didn”t want anything to happen between us. Fair enough. I wasn’t going to force him into anything, not that I could. But as much as his rejection burned, Hawk must’ve had his reasons. I’d take what I could get from him, but not more. This time I”d stay on my side of the bed.
I meant that.
I really did.
I fell asleep facing the edge of the mattress, my back to Hawk”s empty place beside me, sending a clear signal that I’d respect his personal space. And conscious me was on board. Really.
Sleeping Quinn had a different plan.
I woke deep in the night, warmth all along the front of my body, my cheek on a firm pillow. Hawk. Too cozy to think straight, I lifted my head and found myself looking straight into the gleam of Hawk”s eyes, barely visible in the dark room.
I should have moved. I didn”t.
Hawk”s fingers closed around my bicep. Not pushing me away. Not pulling me closer. Holding me where I was.
“Quinn,” he breathed.
His low voice drawing me in, I began to close the distance between us. Hawk didn”t move.
He didn’t slide out from under me and disappear down the hall. He didn”t push me away. He didn”t gently roll me onto my back and retreat to his side of the bed.
Still, I stopped, my lips a breath from his. “I”m going to kiss you.”
His only response was an indrawn breath, his fingers tightening reflexively on my arms. Tightening, but not pushing me away.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” I asked. “Because I really, really want to kiss you. I’ve been thinking about it?—”
Before I could finish that thought, he shifted, closing the distance between our mouths. His lips stroked mine, barely a touch. Almost nothing.
This time, I was the one who drew in a breath.
He kissed me again. His mouth took mine, possessive and demanding. I straddled him, ignoring the throb in my ankle as I moved. I didn”t care how much it hurt. I”d been dreaming of kissing Hawk Bristol since I laid eyes on him. And this—his lips moving on mine, his tongue tasting me, his hands closing over my hips, the harsh breath in his throat—all of it was so much better than anything I”d dreamed.
He kissed me and kissed me, long, deep, wet kisses that went on and on, his fingers digging into my hips, my breath catching in my lungs. I wanted this, I wanted him, I wanted all of it. Everything. With a gasp, I jerked back, sitting up to pull my silk long underwear shirt over my head. I tossed it on the floor, my tank top following, baring my upper body.
“Quinn,” Hawk said on a groan, his hands leaving my hips to cup my breasts, squeezing and shaping, pinching my nipples with the perfect pressure. Enough to send a spike of pained pleasure down my spine, straight between my legs. “Quinn.” My name was followed by a sharp exhale before he pulled me down, his mouth closing over one hard nipple, sucking and licking.
At first, his mouth was tender. Reverent. Just as I was ready to beg, his teeth closed over the tip in a bite hard enough to leave me gasping, squirming against him. He soothed with a gentle suck, followed by another sharp bite.
My head spun, my nerves firing, bliss spearing through my brain. Hawk tipped his head back, his hands turning me, bringing my other breast to his mouth. I shivered in anticipation, the cold air hitting my skin before his warm palm closed over it, soothing my tortured nipple as he turned his attention to the other. I couldn’t process this much sensation. It had been a while since I’d been mostly naked with a man, and never with a man like Hawk.
Something in me must have sensed something in him, must have known on some level that he had exactly the right combination of patience and rough, raw need to give me what I wanted. His hot, wet, sucking mouth, his hands molding my breasts, the low sounds in his throat—I was closer to coming than I’d ever been with so many clothes on. I rocked on top of him, the hard length of cock against my clit almost enough to push me over the edge.
Almost. I was still wearing my yoga pants, and I wanted more. The brush of his stubbled cheek on the side of my breast, his hard hands holding me—all that skin on my skin felt so good. I wanted more. I wanted all of it.
My head spun from pleasure and need. Hawk pulled back, his hands shifting to my shoulders to push me gently away from him. The flicker of firelight from the woodstove wasn’t much, but I could see when his eyes locked on mine.
His voice was rough as if the words had been torn from his throat. “Quinn, I can’t. We can’t.”
Through the need burning inside me, I managed to process his words. “We can if we want to,” I said. “Do you want to?”
I knew Hawk had his reasons for staying away from me, but the only question that mattered was the one I’d asked.
“Do you want to?” I asked again.