Don't Promise (Don't 3)
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Hunter stood in awe. “Wow. That’s the biggest tree I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s yours. You know that, bud?”
The child circled the tree from one side to the other. “When we put the lights on, I bet they’ll be able to see it from the White House.”
Hawk and I laughed. “Not quite, honey.”
“We need a fire in here,” Hawk offered.
“And some dinner. No one has eaten.” I started for the kitchen, while Hawk worked on the fireplace.
Hunter grabbed a box of lights from the plastic tub of decorations I had hauled over from my house.
I looked out on the living room. At the boys, buried in their own projects. My heart swelled. The tears came easily.
Hawk looked up. “You ok, baby?”
I nodded. “Better than I’ve ever been.”
He left the small flame that had started in the fireplace. He cupped my cheeks with his cold hands. “Good.”
“I don’t know how all this happened.” I let him wipe one of the tears away with his thumb.
“I think it started when you wore a pair of shorts that were too damn short.” He grabbed my ass.
I giggled. “Ok, maybe.”
How had a backroom bar hookup turn into this? There was more love and family in this loft than I’d ever experienced in my life. It was a Christmas card. A movie set. It was my life with Hawk and Hunter.
Hunter stuck out his tongue, trying to untangle one of the strands of lights. I laughed harder.
“Do you see him?”
Hawk shook his head. “Not right now. All I see is a sexy woman that I can’t wait to spend my night with.”
My chest seized with lust and love and something I couldn’t explain. I wanted this man in ways I couldn’t explain.
“After we decorate the tree.” I eyed him.
“It is a school night isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeah. I have to get up early.”
We were on the other side of the kitchen island. His calloused palm found a sliver of space and slid between my skin and my panties, gripping my bottom roughly. I inhaled sharply.
“Then I’m taking you to bed early, Jules.”
I nodded in agreement. As long as he said the word bed, I was never going to say no. Lying skin to skin. His body moving inside mine. His lips taking mine. His hands canvassing me in heat. It was all I could think about.
“D-dinner,” I stammered. “I have to make dinner.”
“Right.” He removed his hand, dragging it over my skin torturously. “Hey, bud. Need some help with those lights?”
He strolled out of the kitchen and I grabbed the island for support.
Maybe I needed to open a window and let some of the snow inside to cool me off, because from my lips to my core that man had lit me on fire.
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