Page 44 of Cherry Picked
“Hawk told me you recommended he carry lube in his backpack just in case he and Simon got an opportunity, so we know he’s prepared. That was thoughtful of you.” She beamed guilelessly, and I knew I was being played by a master.
But damn if it wasn’t working.
An embarrassing little choking sound gurgled out of my throat, and I coughed to hide it. “I said no such thing,” I argued, knowing it was useless. “I think Hawk should wait for the right person. Someone he really wants, not someone convenient.”
“AndIthink this topic is getting seriously old,” she said sweetly.
My eye twitched. She wasn’t wrong.
She pressed her lips together for a beat before patting my arm and preparing to stand up from the table. “At the risk of getting fired on the spot, I really think you should go up there and fuck him, Jack. Dunno what kind of bullshit ethical problem is burbling through the wild brook in your brainpan, but he wantsyou. He choseyou. And you want him just as badly. So have at it. As William Hale Thompson once famously said, ‘Fuck early and often.’”
“I think that was about voting,” I called after her in a choked voice.
She waved her hand over her shoulder. “Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe. Now, go get your man.”
I leaned my elbows on the table and buried my face in my hands. Everyone in Little Pippin Hollow had lost their damned mind.
* * *
I lasted twenty hours before I caved.
In that time, I talked to Drew, who literally laughed out loud when I suggestedheshould drag Hawk off the mountain and muttered something about how “Janis Joplin saved the day again, rest her soul.”
I talked to Webb and Knox, who exchanged a look so long it seemed like they were having an entire conversation. Knox raised an eyebrow at Webb, Webb glared at him worriedly, Knox folded his arms over his chest and tilted his chin toward me, and Webb finally looked away with his jaw clenched. “We think Hawk’ll be fine,” Knox told me coolly. “He knows exactly when and where to seek shelter, and he knows the evacuation routes. But we appreciate your concern.”
I even broke down and explained the whole situation to my mother, who scowled at me, sighed dramatically, and told the dog, “Apparently, certain adults need to learn the consequences of their actions the hard way, don’t they, Peony?” which I thought was pretty unfeeling since she loved Hawk nearly as much as she loved me.
That morning, I’d been so desperate I’d actually considered approaching Helena Fortnum to beg for her help—the woman was quite spry for an octogenarian; surely a little hike wouldn’t hurt her—when Tom had casually mentioned something about how the National Weather Service no longer recommended using the Lightning Crouch, whatever the hell that was.
“Guess if lightning strikes,” Tom had continued, “you’re just supposed to grin and bear it. At least Hawk isn’t in a metal tent, right?”
Visions assaulted my brain of metal tent poles and trekking poles, metal cooking equipment and insulated water bottles gleefully conducting electricity all around Hawk’s tent. Even the 1858 Flying Eagle penny his dad had given him that he wore on a chain around his neck for luck now seemed like a harbinger of doom.
And that was when I realized that I needed to bite the bullet and fetch the man off the mountain myself.
“Treat me like an adult, he says,” I muttered at my boots as I trudged up the trail. “While childishly ignoring dangerous weather warnings. What kind of adult risks himself in a situation like this? A stupid one, that’s what kind.”
But concern for his well-being didn’t explain my sweaty palms and jittery heart. Not when the only signs of the storm were a few intermittent raindrops. Not when there was plenty of time to convince him, pack him up, and get him safely home before the real storm arrived.
It took half the long-ass trail for me to realize that what was driving me, what was spinning me wildly to the edge of my comfort and sanity, was fear of seeing Hawk. Because I knew if I saw him… I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back.
My feelings for him were so strong they felt like steel bands crushing my solar plexus. Even though I’d told him I couldn’t be what he wanted, what he needed, I couldn’t stop imagining being with him in exactly that way. His bright, familiar face had filled my dreams for the past two weeks when I was lucky enough to sleep, and the thought of touching his warm, naked skin filled the nights when I couldn’t sleep at all.
I’d slept with him a thousand times in my mind, taking him fast and hard against the wall in the diner’s storeroom… slowly and sensually in front of a crackling fire… quick and sweet in a stolen moment in the middle of the night. I wanted him so badly I couldn’t think straight.
I sucked in a deep breath of the cool, humid air. The temperature was already dropping now that the sun was behind heavy clouds.
If I followed my own advice to Webb and tried treating Hawk like an adult, maybe I could accept his proposal for the two of us to sleep together without it having to mean anything more than that.
Yeah, right. As if I could get naked with him and not have it mean anything.
I’d told Hawk thathecouldn’t possibly want sex without romantic strings, but it was me—me—who knew we couldn’t be together that way without being togetherin all the ways. And I…
I had no idea how to do that, and I didn’t want to let him down. He was infinitely precious. Breaking him would breakme.
Hawk’s words from our last hike sounded in my head.The only reason you don’t know about relationship stuff is because you haven’t tried relationship stuff, just like you weren’t born knowing how to play the damn tuba.
But life wasn’t that easy. Itcouldn’tbe…
