Craving Hawk (The Aces' Sons 3)

I turned my head as someone came out of the front door of the clubhouse and barely braced myself before Heather was jumping on me, her legs and arms wrapped around my torso.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, stuffing her face into my neck. “You’re back.”

I met the lawyer’s eyes over her shoulder. “My wife,” I told him.

“I guessed that,” he replied dryly.

I nodded and started toward the clubhouse, wrapping my arm under Heather’s ass to support her. “Missed me, huh?” I teased, smiling when her arms tightened. “Told you I’d be out.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” she asked darkly, not lifting her head.

“Not long if I woulda been stuck with that idiot I had before,” I answered, leading the lawyer into the clubhouse. “But things are lookin’ up.”

“I’m pissed at you,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

“I have no idea, but I’m really angry.”

I laughed and tried to turn it into a cough but I was pretty sure I hadn’t fooled her.

“You gotta get down, baby,” I murmured as I saw my dad, Dragon and Poet seated at a table in the middle of the room. “We got business to take care of.”

Heather nodded, then pulled away from my neck, leaning back until we were nose to nose. “You haven’t even kissed me,” she said huskily, her eyes meeting mine.

“Didn’t give me a chance to,” I reminded her, reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “Come ’ere.”

Her lips barely met mine when the urge to walk out of the room and find a little privacy hit me. I hadn’t seen her in days and she’d been freaking out while I’d been gone and there’d been no way for me to help her. Her hands were shaking when she pressed them against the sides of my face and I couldn’t help the groan that seemed to come up from my chest.

I stood there in the middle of the room, kissing the hell out of my wife until my dad finally barked my name in annoyance.

“Yeah,” I answered after I’d torn my mouth away. “I’m comin’.”

“Not yet,” Heather whispered in my ear as she let her legs fall from around my waist. “But you sure as hell will be.”

The lawyer I’d forgotten was there let out a little laugh and I watched her cheeks redden.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she said. She glanced at him and then did a double take with wide eyes.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said calmly, ignoring the way she was staring.

“Knock it off,” I ordered as I gripped her hand and pulled her toward the guys waiting for us.

“I didn’t do anything,” she argued under her breath.

“Carter Lincoln,” I said, introducing him to the table. “This is Dragon, Grease and Poet.”

“Patrick,” Poet said with a nod. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Right,” Lincoln said, reaching out to shake his hand.

I pulled a couple of chairs over to the table and motioned for Lincoln to sit, he sat down and I pulled Heather onto my lap, making him raise one eyebrow.

“Haven’t seen her in days,” I told him, ignoring the face he was making.

He nodded and opened his briefcase, pulling out the stack of notes he’d made earlier at the courthouse.

“You think you can get this thrown out?” my dad asked, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table.

“Easily,” Lincoln answered. Then he smiled and I thought Heather was going to fall off my damn lap.

* * *

“You’re not goin’ to any more meetings with the suit,” I bitched later that night as Heather made dinner. “If you can’t keep your damn tongue inside your mouth.”

“Oh, whatever,” she replied, throwing a carrot at me. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Bullshit. I thought you were gonna pass out when he took his fuckin’ jacket off.”

“With good reason. Did you see that guy? He looks like a fucking model.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, pulling on a pair of boxers.

“Aw, someone’s jealous,” she sang, chuckling when she saw the scowl on my face.

“You wanna ogle somethin’ I got somethin’ for ya,” I replied, reaching down to grab my junk.

“Later,” she said with a laugh. “I’m still walking funny from earlier.”

“Not my fault you jumped me the minute we walked in the door,” I said as I came in behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“Oh, please, like it wasn’t a mutual jumping.”

“Baby, your hand was down my pants before I’d closed the door,” I teased, kissing her bare shoulder. “Pretty sure that was all you.”

“I bent myself over the counter and pulled my own hair?”

“Nah, you were too busy moaning for me to give it to you harder,” I joked, making her elbow me in the side.

“I’m just glad to be home,” she murmured, leaning back against me. “I kept waking up thinking I was going to fall off your old bed.”

“You slept on the bunk bed?” I asked, reaching around her to grab the plates she’d just filled up.