Right for Love(14)

Hawk Larson was my first everything, and now he was standing right in front of me after all this time.

“Not exactly a nice way to welcome a guy home.” His words were clipped, as if he were irritated by the very sight of me. Well, got news for you, buddy. Seeing you in my park isn’t exactly what I would call a good day either.

“You’re home?” I uttered, one hand reaching out for Emerson and pulling her to my side. I don’t know why I felt the need to shield her because it only brought attention to her little cherubic face. The inquisitive eyes.

“I’m Emerson.” She thrust out a hand. “What’s your name?”

Hawk’s eyes held hers, oxygen sucked out of the air between the three of us. His eyes slid from hers to mine, narrowing with anger before landing on hers again. “I’m Hawk.”

He shook her hand, and every cell in my body begged to disappear. Just melt into the dirt at my feet.

“Mommy is making mac and cheese for lunch. Do you like mac and cheese?” Her wide eyes were carefree and sparkling. I had to get us out of here. Standing toe to toe with Hawk left a pounding in my head, stole all the breath from my lungs, and damn that stubborn part of me that wanted to wrap him in a hug.

“I happen to love mac and cheese. It’s nice to meet you, Emerson.”

My gaze hung suspended on his, something in me urging me to pepper him with kisses just like I used to do when we were teenagers.

But those days were gone, and time had certainly changed both of us.

His broad shoulders, chiseled waist, the corded arms that had always danced just at the edges of my memory…but not even my memory could do him justice. I’d known him as a lean college quarterback, taut with sinewy muscle. The day he left for the NFL was the last time I’d seen him. For the first two years, Dad would turn on every game, beg me to watch with him, but I couldn’t stand to see Hawk’s face. Couldn't stand to see the happiness radiating across it. I knew this man. I’d known him from the time he was a boy throwing his first football. I’d cheered for him on the sidelines when he’d thrown the winning pass at homecoming. I’d been there with him through it all.

But not this.

Not now.

He was different.

Changed.

Older.

The jawline had grown sharper, now smattered with a dark five-o'clock shadow that had me itching to run my fingers across it.

Hawk’s eyes trained on mine then, anger and confusion swirling.

“It was good to see you, Morgan.” He said my name like a curse word.

He still hated me.

Jesus, this couldn’t be any worse.

Everything I’d done, I’d done for him. He was my heart—he always had been my heart. Why didn’t he see that?

“Next time, ask your mom to add some bacon to the mac and cheese. Makes it ten times better.” He winked at my daughter. Hawk Larson just winked at my daughter. I can’t believe this is happening.

“Oh, she does! It’s the bestest!”

Hawk’s eyes cut into me, jaws crushed together. “She does, does she? Wonder where she learned that?”

“It’s bacon, Hawk. It’s not like you have a patent on bacon mac and cheese.” I couldn't help the sarcasm. Why did it feel like five years had hardly passed and we were falling right back into old familiar habits?

“What’s your dog’s name?” Emerson bent to pet the puppy on the head again.

Hawk waited long moments before answering, bending down to place a hand on the dog’s head and meet my daughter at eye level. “His name is Milo.”

The air swooped from my lungs with that one word.

He’d named his dog after the kitten we’d found and raised together in high school?

The one my dad wouldn’t let me keep, so Hawk had snuck it into his bedroom every night, hiding it under the covers while he slept. His mom had found out eventually and forced him to find a home for it. I’d cried like a baby the day we’d taken Milo to the farm outside of town to his new home. It was silly, we’d only had the kitten a few weeks, but I loved him. Somehow it felt like the first thing Hawk and I had together, a piece of both of us because we’d raised it. Hawk had held me in his arms, letting me cry out the tears.

Maybe I was preparing myself for him to leave then.

“You named him Milo?”

“Mommy used to have a cat named Milo!” Emerson smiled up innocently.

A tear burned behind my eyelid before I pulled her up to standing again. “We should get going, honey. I have to work tonight. Mrs. Frisk will be wondering where we are.”

I stepped around Hawk, still hunched and petting his dog, eyes averted from mine.

So many words choking my throat.