Hawk (Sex and Bullets 2)

“Sure?” He blinks, and his smile widens. “Don’t get so excited, Lay, you could hurt yourself.”

I laugh, and for some reason, tears burn the back of my eyes. Oh no, not more waterworks. I swallow them down. “I’d love to be your girl.”

There. That was clear, right? Even if I feel as if I’m blundering inside a cloud of thick fog.

He brushes his mouth over my forehead, over my cheek. “Look, I know things are kinda crazy right now. And I’m fucking sorry you got tangled in my mess.” I open my mouth to tell him it’s not his mess, that I understand why he did what he did, but he forges on, trailing his fingers over my lips. “But I’m so fucking happy you came for me, that you stayed with me, and that you’re here now. Above all, I’m so glad you’re okay. And even more so that you’re willing to give this a try.”

“This.” I lick at this fingertips, and he groans, his eyes darkening.

“Us.” He pulls his fingers reluctantly away from my mouth. “Give us a chance. My life is kinda dangerous right now, but it should settle down soon. I can be… be with you, the way I’ve wanted.”

“I want that, too,” I say, and if this is a step over the void, if I find out later there’s no real bridge to his heart, I think it would have been worth it anyway.

“Good. Awesome. Fucking awesome, because I…” The flush in his cheek deepens, and I watch it, fascinated. Who has ever seen Jamie Hawk Fleming blush? “I want more. Lay, I want a family with you.”

Whoa, back up. “Hawk, I told you I can’t have kids, and—”

“Tell me what the issue is. Maybe there’s a way around it.”

“You think I haven’t asked? I have ovary problems.” The words stick in my throat, but I force them out. “The doctor said the chances of getting pregnant are like a tiny needle in a huge haystack.”

“Okay. It’s fine.” He nuzzles my cheek. “I want you. Above all, you.”

Oh God. I draw a deep breath, his scent filling my senses, and he presses our foreheads together. I reach up and tug a blond strand that’s caught in his beard, free it, twine it around

my finger.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, fuck, I mean it. But you want kids, so what if we tried in vitro fertilization? Surrogate eggs. I can get you the best doctors. Or if we adopted? A baby, not a dog. And a dog. If you want.” His tongue’s tripping over the words. He’s nervous. Never heard him so nervous in my life. “And cats. A pony, even. I’ll get you—”

“Stop.”

He pulls back, his gaze kind of shocked, and full of questions. “Lay…”

“Wait.”

Wait, I need a moment, because that’s… is that what girlfriends and boyfriends talk about? I mean, doesn’t one start with dating, going to the movies, eating… oh right. Done all that already. And this sounds serious.

What is he really trying to tell me? Am I reading too much into this?

He wants a family with me. He’d get me a dog. A pony?

Laughter bubbles up in my throat, mingling with the tears trapped there, closing up my airways. My heart is racing a million miles an hour.

Whatever this is between us, it’s serious. It’s deep. And when I kiss him, my fingers tangling in his silky hair, his beard rough on my chin, I can’t think of any other guy I’d gamble my heart on than this one.

***

The doctor, a pretty woman in her forties, someone Storm trusts not to betray our location apparently, asks me many questions before asking me to open my bathrobe. She examines me quickly, and I bite my lip not to cry out when she presses my breasts.

That hurts.

“Sensitive, huh?” She frowns. “Are they larger than usual?”

I nod. “They get bigger before my period.”

“And have you had your period last month?”