Page 81 of Feels Like the First Time
“As long as you promise to do the same.” Gail smiled. “Now, you want to talk about what all of that was a minute ago?”
“I think we already did.”
Gail chuckled. “You always knew your own mind. It’s that unshakable oomph of yours that drives.”
“You hate my oomph.”
“I love your oomph,” Gail rested her cheek on Ali’s head. “You get that from your mom.”
Ali wrapped an arm around her mother’s middle and closed her eyes. She let the feeling of being held sink into her soul and warm her, from the inside out. Calm her fears.
Ever so slowly, that peace she’d been searching for came closer until it was right there. Within reach. All she had to do was grab on.
Call it clarity, oomph, or just knowing what she wanted, but this time Ali wasn’t letting go. She could only hope that Hawk still felt the same.
***
“No. The last time I let you talk me into hosting a private event, I ended up in a monkey suit at my ex-wife’s engagement party,” Hawk said.
“From what I heard about the smooching on the roof, you should be thanking me,” Luke said, then grimaced.
“Fuck you,” Hawk said.
“I’m kind of seeing someone,” Luke said, resting his elbows on the bar top, taking way too much joy in Hawk’s current situation. “Plus, pussies who run home to cuddle their stick don’t really do it for me.”
“I didn’t run.” He’d ridden his bike, like a grown-ass man.
That had been three days ago, and he hadn’t seen Ali since. He glanced out the bar window and looked up. Her place was still empty.
He’d heard that Marty had been released, and assumed Ali was spending her days taking care of him, but Hawk had thought she’d at least come back to grab some clothes. Or the chocolate pie in the fridge. She’d never let that go to waste.
Maybe she had, and she’d purposely waited until she knew he’d be sleeping or gone. He wouldn’t blame her. She’d come to him like she had a thousand times before, a friend with a concern.
Only he’d reacted like some insecure ass.
“Lucky for us, this group specifically requested you bring your stick,” Luke said, sliding over the schedule for the day. “They want to tour the orchard at Bay View as a possible location for a retreat. If it looks like a fit, they’d spend the day at the orchard, picking apples or some shit, then have a cider tasting back here at the Penalty Box. So bring the charm; this could be great for us.”
Hawk slid the papers back across the table. He was all tapped out in the charm department. Actually he was tapped out in the giving-a-shit department as well. And spending his day talking hockey and war stories with a bunch of suits sounded as exciting as shattering his other shoulder. “If this is so great, you do it.”
“Sorry, bro, no can do. Covering your ass the last few nights at the bar means I have been neglecting my duties at home. So while you handle this little meet and greet, I’ll be handling my fiancée.”
“I know and I appreciate it.”
More than he could ever explain. After that night on the bluff, Hawk needed time to work through what had happened. When a bottle of whiskey and pounding sand hadn’t helped, he’d ended up at the Bay View house, expressing his feeling demolition style.
With everything spinning out of control, he needed something to focus on. Something that wouldn’t break when he touched it. Something he could fix.
“Unless you have other plans.” The look Luke gave him was one of pure challenge.
Hawk put the empty keg to the side. “There were a few things I wanted to finish up at Bay View, but they can wait.”
“I was talking about Ali.”
A topic Hawk was trying to avoid, with no luck. Another reason Bay View held such appeal. Talking about Ali led to thinking about Ali—and that shattered fucking look on her face.
He’d done that. He’d hurt her. Big-time. She’d finally opened herself up to the possibility of love, and instead of embracing her courage, he’d told her it wasn’t enough.
She wasn’t enough. Sure, she’d delivered a similar blow. But over the years he’d given her enough reason to allow for doubt.
