"Right. Glad we agree." I shook my head. "Let's go home, buddy. This has been too much crazy for one day."
He wagged his tail and jumped to his feet.
"I've got shit to do anyway. Those fan letters won't answer themselves, right?" I'd just received a huge box from my manager, fan mail, mostly from kids, that needed my reply. I had at least a few hours of signing photos and writing messages ahead of me.
I loved my fans; they're what kept me strong when two surgeries had failed to fix the problem. My pro career had been cut short, but truth be told, I was fine with that. Life on the road wasn't for me. I was a simple guy; I liked to be at home. Crowds and team trips weren't enjoyable. But I would always miss the fans. The look on the kids' faces when they looked up at you, believing all of their dreams could come true. Hell, mine had. Every single dream I had had become a reality, except for maybe the most important one. Her.
Morgan Quinn had been haunting me since the day I walked away.
I stretched my hands before placing the last personalized letter on the top of the stack. My stomach chose that moment to rumble. There wasn't an ounce of food in this house unless I wanted peanut butter and jelly again, which I didn't. This place was only temporary until my new house was move-in ready. Five bedrooms, six baths, a pool, and a gated yard. All the privacy I could ever want and room to expand long-term. Even when I'd left for the NFL, I'd known I would be back one day.
Greenville, Indiana had always been my home. The slower pace and quiet atmosphere called to me.
Playing pro for the Bears had been great, but I'd just been biding my time and saving my cash until I could move back home and buy a place big enough to live out the rest of my days in.
I glanced over at Milo, feet up and snuggled deep into the couch. "Guess you're not going anywhere."
I pulled my keys off the table, shoved them deep into my pocket, and then walked out the door.
A quick bite at the diner a few blocks away would have to do. I'd eaten enough pizza in the last week to kill a man, so something hot and homemade sounded about perfect.
The streetlights hummed as I walked through the darkness, hoping the diner was still open and wondering where in the hell I was going to start walking my dog to avoid Morgan's park.
Yeah, Morgan's park.
She could have it.
I'd take the dog to piss in the next county if that's what it took to avoid her and the sweet little face of her darling kid.
Just the thought alone made my stomach churn.
The nerve of her to slaughter my insides like that and then turn around and fuck someone else.
I hadn't been with another woman since her.
Not that I'd been saving myself, but the truth was, no one had ever compared.
No one had made me feel what Morgan made me feel. I'd held out for that, and I'd never found it.
A near growl escaped my lips as I thought about her touching someone else. Another man's paws on her soft skin. My skin. My girl. Mine.
I remembered the way she'd let me clutch her hand during my grandma's funeral, salty tears filling my eyes. Morgan had always been there for me, and then she'd gone and stolen my grandma's macaroni, cheese, and bacon recipe. So much for loyalty.
"Fuck, maybe I should sell the new place and move." I said the words out loud, swinging in the door of the diner as I did. "Fuck me."
There she was. Standing against the counter, back to me.
I'd know that back anywhere.
The luscious curve of her hips, the hourglass waist, the way her ponytail hung over one shoulder.
She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Without thinking twice, I strode right to her, my chest pressed against her back, my teeth at her ear. "What are you doing here?"
She spun, eyes wide as she was taken off guard. Her fiery greens narrowed before she spat, "I work here," and turned.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.
"Of course you do." I couldn't help the growl.
"We're closing in thirty, but you're welcome to take a seat," she said simply, treating me like I was any other customer. The fuck I was any other customer. We had history. She couldn't just erase history.
I pushed a hand over my face and through my hair. "Where do you live?"
"Why would I tell you?" she shot back, a hand at her hip.
Another groan rolled through me. "Fine. I don't give a shit anyway."
"Then why ask?" Her eyes sparkled. She had me on that one. I did care. I cared a fuck of a lot. I didn't know why I cared, but I did.
"Because … " I paused, eyes locked on hers. The air hung heavy between us, her eyes searching mine, my gaze climbing up and down hers. Fuck, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her until she couldn't fucking breathe and forgot every other man that had come since me. "Because I give a fuck about that little girl."
Her dark eyes grew wide, a look of stone-cold fear flashing across her face. What the hell was that about? And come to think of it, why had she looked like she'd seen a ghost when we'd met in the park? Introducing me to her daughter …
Shit.
Oh Jesus Christ.
Was it possible?
Could little Emerson actually be my daughter?
The thought hadn't even occurred to me before now. Dammit, had she found out she was pregnant after I left?
Suddenly, all the dark nights alone in my bed came back to me, my thumb hovering over her name in my contact list, memories of us dragging me under.
"Look, Hawk, I'm not sure why you came back, or why you're even standing here in front of me with that look on your face, but I'm fine. We're fine." She amended, referring to herself and Emerson and averting her eyes. "Now can I get you a drink?"
She twisted, turning her back on me, hands scribbling something on a pad she'd pulled out of her apron.
"Grrrr … " I gritted out, spinning on my heel and stomping out of the diner.
The cool air hit my face, clearing my head.
Fuck.
I couldn't leave her like that.
What if that little girl was mine?
And why did it feel like her mama still was, even after all these years?
I turned around, barging back through the doors and up to her, fists clenching at my sides, unsure of what to say.
So I didn't say anything.
I thrust my hands in her hair, threaded my fingers through the silky strands and smashed my lips to hers in a take-no-prisoners kiss. Her lips opened as if on instinct, just like they always had, and our tongues slipped together. Fireworks exploded between us, heart pounding within me, telling me to take what was mine.
Her hands worked into my hair, hips grinding against mine and driving me nearly blind with lust.
I needed her.
I wanted her.
I loved her.
Fuck.
I still loved her.
She pulled her lips from mine, small gasps breathing past her lips when my hands tightened at her cheeks. My eyes hardened, searching her up and down for the girl I used to know. Discovering the woman she'd become.
She was so lovely it made my chest ache.
"Jesus," I grunted, then spun, storming back out the doors and into the cool night. I walked a few steps, hands in my hair, mind raging at me to turn around and tell her she belonged to me. She'd always belonged to me. There was no severing what we had. What we had grew stronger, grew more alive.
Fuck, I had to say something.
I couldn't just turn tail and run like a bitch. I couldn't stand here with my hands in my hair.
I whirled around, throwing the door open and bursting through again. Walking straight for her, and this time, she didn't turn when I neared. This time, she stood her ground, eyes watching me intently. She was bold, brave. She'd been through alot in the years since I'd left her.
And it only registered just then that if she was working at the diner, she was probably struggling to make ends meet. She was probably a single mom. No man in his right mind would let his woman work somewhere like this at night, with all the fucking assholes that came into places like this after dark.
"I don't know what to do about you," I breathed, lips barely brushing hers.
Fuck, I wanted her plastered to me again.
I wanted her home, in bed, screaming my name. I wanted everything with this woman.
But that didn't change the fact that she'd still left me. Told me she never wanted to see me again and then walked away, told me to leave and never come back.
Christ, I'd begged her to come with me.
I told her I would stay, forget the NFL, all I wanted was her.
But she insisted.
And now, looking across at her, eyes connecting, shared memories swirling, I couldn't help the pain clogging my heart.
"Just leave, Hawk," she finally whispered, eyes turning down.
I caught her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Got news for you, Morgan. I'm never leaving again."
Chapter 3
Morgan
His words echoed around my skull.
Never? Did he really mean never?
"I thought you were just here for a break. Don't you have a big fancy career to get back to?"
His eyes softened for a minute, his hand falling from my chin and leaving tingles in its wake. Everything about him turned me on, still did. Only now, I hated him for it. "Not going back."