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In the meantime, the master suite is where I spend most of my evenings; sitting on the bed, watching TV to unwind, wishing Tee was snuggled up beside me.
After a few minutes, I realize I left the phone downstairs still waiting to hear back from Vale.
Downstairs, I find the phone on the kitchen counter where I left it. Draining the last swallow of the rich amber ale that I picked up from our local brewery, I grab another one from the fridge and pop the cap before checking Vale's reply and saving the digits in my contacts.
But before I can decide between texting and calling, there's a knock at my front door and when I check the window, I see the devil herself standing on my porch.
8
TERRA
It's nota big secret which house is Hawk's. Pretty much everyone in Moonshine Ridge knows where everyone else lives and even though I've never been here, my brothers have plenty of times.
Moonshine Ridge doesn't have any gated communities but if we did, the Lakeshore Cabins would be one of them.
It's a small subdivision of newish construction that's only about ten or fifteen years old. Only fifteen houses that are all at least four bedrooms, sitting on wooded two-acre lots and every one of them has lake shore access.
It's a pretty big joke with the locals that they're called "cabins" because they're some of the biggest houses in town.
And this one belongs to Hawk.
It's not like I expected him to stop by today. Or time his coffee run this morning to bump into me. Or, I don't know,text meor something.
He'd probably call, though. He asked my dad and my brothers for permission tocourtme, for fuck's sake. He seems like the kind of guy who wouldcall.
Justice Wyatt Hawkins seems like the kind of guy who would calla girlafter something like...um... last night. But he hasn't, so I don't know if I'm intruding on his personal space or not by showing up at his house.
Maybe he got all guilt-ridden after he went home last night, just like I told him not to. Maybe he's never going to touch me again. Maybe he's chickened out of asking me out after that.
I climb the front porch steps and roll my shoulders to relax them. Trying to remind myself that that's not even why I'm here. I don't even care if he's still interested or not.
When was the last time I knocked on a door anyway? I usually just text to say I'm here, but I don't have Hawk's personal number and there's no way I'm asking for it from anyone I know has it. So I knock.
I kinda thought I'd see him around town today and get it from him but after seeing Abu's face-- I guess he was busy all afternoon.
I'm about to knock again when the door unlocks from inside and swings open.
My mouth goes dry and my panties go wet.
Off-duty Hawkins is definitely a sight I can get used to.
His hair is damp and mussed like he got out of the shower and didn't comb it after toweling off. The new beard is a definite keeper, it's longer and thicker than when I first saw it last week and it makes me wonder how often he was having to shave to keep his face so baby smooth all this time. I have to remember to thank Abu for beard-shaming him.
He's wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants and I literally cannot help myself when my eyes drop down to check out the outline of his cock between his legs.
I mean, they're gray sweatpants, it's like, a thing-- ok? And they are way hot on Hawk.
I like the way the plain blue t-shirt molds to his chest, stretching across his pecs and hanging looser over his waist, but I wish he wasn't wearing a shirt at all.
My curiosity has been killing me, wondering what he looks like. If he has hair on his chest, if it does that thing where it forms a trail all the way down, what's at the end of that trail...I feel myself swallow hard.
"I was texting you." His voice has that rich, dark thing going on again. The way he sounded when he asked if I knew his name.
The memory makes everything tingle.
"What does my grandmother have on you?"
It's the real reason I came here tonight. Well, mostly the reason anyway.
