Scream My Name (15 page)

“H
ey, thanks for pitching in, Hawk, I really appreciate it,” Leila said, tucking a loc behind her ear. She dragged her attention away from the printout inventory in her hand and smiled as Jarred “Hawk” Wikvaya walked into the bustling kitchen, a pan of dishes cupped under his arm.

“No problem, Lee,” the tall Native American man said, smiling in return.

After sliding the large plastic tub onto the gray metal counter, he walked over to where Leila stood perusing the document held in her hand.

“Have you had a go over the final drafts of the financial statements yet?” he asked.

“Yep, I have, and it all looks great! Every ‘I’ dotted, all ‘T’s crossed. Everything looks in order. I’ll go over everything one final time and we should be good to go—should be able to hand it off to Brandan tomorrow,” she said, opening the door and motioning for him to follow her into her office. “Thanks again for handling the legal end of the sale for me.”

Hawk followed her in, his eyes raking over the familiar small, cramped office, boxes stacked on top of each other, the walls nearly bare of the many pictures that once hung, now wrapped up and ready to be moved away.

He walked over to one of the boxes and lifted the lone framed picture, smiling down at it.

Leila glanced up and noticed the picture he held, one of his thumbs lightly caressing the glassed frame. Hawk looked over at her, a nostalgic smile on his face. “Not packing this one away yet?”

“No,” Leila replied softly.

He glanced back down at the photo. “I sure do miss her. She was the closest thing to a mother I had. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Sadie, I don’t know what my life would have been like. They broke the mold when they made her,” he replied and cleared his throat, looking up at Leila.

“Yeah, she was definitely one of a kind,” Leila replied softly.

“She was the reason I didn’t end up in juvie hall or somewhere worse.”

“Aunt Sadie had that effect on people. She never gave up on anyone. Always saw the best in everyone. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her, Hawk.”

When he glanced up at her, he noticed her amber-colored eyes glistening with unshed tears, and placed the picture carefully back down on top of the stack of boxes, clapping his hands together. “Okay, what else do you need for me to do? I’m ready to work, boss. Those documents aren’t going to sell themselves,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Although the sadness still lingered in her eyes, with a determined smile Leila agreed, and the two went to work on the pile of documents neatly placed in folders on top of her desk.

“Well, like I said, if I had a man like Warren, and a stable,
monogamous
relationship, Danita, girl, I think I’d be one happy woman. What’s more—”she stopped speaking when her cell phone rang for the second time in less than thirty minutes.

She picked up the phone and after seeing who it was from, rolled her eyes. “I’m not answering that…as I was saying—”

Danita lifted a brow, “Answer the phone. If you don’t, he’ll just keep calling anyway,” she laughed and with an exaggerated sigh, Larissa snatched up the phone and pressed a long, manicured finger on the talk button. “Yes, Stephen?” she asked. She tried to playing it cool, as though she was irritated, but within moments the man obviously said something she liked, and no matter how she tried to put up a front for Danita’s benefit, Danita knew she was enjoying whatever he was saying to her.

When she turned her body to the side and began to speak low into the phone, and started giggling—which she only did when Stephen started talking sex to her—Danita shook her head and ignored her friend.

Restless, she began to drum her nails on the table, her eyes searching the thinning crowd, looking for who she didn’t know.

Hearing her own mocking laughter in her head, she knew just who she was looking for. No use trying to kid herself. She was hoping to catch sight of the busboy/waiter among the remaining diners and staff. Disappointment flooded her when she didn’t see him, and she glanced at the clock when she noticed a few of the waitresses waving good-bye as they left the diner.

Damn, he’d probably clocked off and hadn’t come by to tell her.

As soon as she thought of it, she realized how ridiculous that sounded, even in her own mind. Just because he’d gotten her all hot and bothered, to the point that X-rated images of the two of them paraded through her mind, didn’t mean the feeling was mutual.

And even if it was, just what in hell would she have done about it? she thought. She wasn’t likely to take up with a busboy and engage in a hot and heavy sex marathon, despite her crazy wayward thoughts.

“Hey, uh, would you mind if I took a rain check on the movie?” Larissa asked, ending her conversation on the phone, her face flushed.

Danita started to make a comment about how easily she caved in, but the look on Larissa’s face stopped her. She already felt awkward enough, no sense teasing her about it. “No problem, I think I’m going home anyway, go over some of my case notes, and turn in early.”

“Thanks, Danita! I’ll call you later, okay?” she asked, but from the excited flush in her light brown cheeks and glitter in her eyes, her mood greatly improved, Danita didn’t really expect to answer, doubting Larissa was paying any attention.

She began to dig in her oversize bag, and pulled out her wallet.

“Larissa…just go…I’ll get the check,” Danita said, knowing that it was more than likely Larissa would be picking up the tab for whatever she and Stephen would be doing, as the last she’d heard, her friend’s current lover was sans job, or “between opportunities” as he put it. That is, if they even made it out of Larissa’s bedroom.

She said good-bye when a no-longer-morose Larissa fluttered her fingers at her in farewell.

With a mental shrug, thinking to each his own, Danita resigned herself to spending the rest of her evening alone.

Nothing really new on that front, she thought, and moodily bit into her Reuben sandwich.

“It’s just about closing time. I can’t believe the diner’s nearly empty!” Leila said, shutting the register drawer and inserting a small key on the side. The register hummed as it began to print out the day’s tally of sales.

“Brandan and I
just
might be able to catch the last showing of
All About Eve!
” Danita said, gleefully clapping her hands together in anticipation of seeing the classic old movie.

Hearing his name, her husband lifted his head and removed his glasses. “Hmm…I was thinking more along the lines of something more…intimate, Lee. Maybe a little wine, a little cheese…a little lovin’,” he asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“We can do that anytime. We’ll get the super nachos at the movies and get you all the cheese you want on it, sweetheart,” Leila replied with an impish grin. “How many chances will we get to see this special colorized edition?”

“Hell, hopefully never,” he mumbled and Leila ignored him. With a resigned sigh he shut the cover on his laptop and stood. “Okay, okay, Bette Davis it is.”

“Good! Hopefully it shouldn’t be too long before the last customer leaves,” Leila said, glancing around the room at the nearly empty café.

“Hey, why don’t you two go? I can stick around and lock up for you,” Hawk volunteered, his eyes still on the woman sipping the tea, a thoughtful expression on her pretty deep brown face.

“Lord, no, Hawk. I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve done so much as it is!” she protested, but Hawk saw the hopeful look in her eyes. “It’s Friday night…don’t you have other plans?”

“No, just me, myself, and I tonight. Gregory is gone for the weekend, went to see his girl in Chicago, and another pal bailed on me, so I canceled the poker game,” he said with a laugh, mentioning his ex-roommate and their weekly Friday night poker game. “The only plans I had were to finally get into the latest Tom Clancy, which I bought six months ago and still haven’t gotten around to reading. Nothing major,” he assured her.

“Well, if you’re sure?” Before he could answer, she ran to the end of the counter to grab her coat and purse tucked beneath the counter.

Brandan interrupted: “Man, you need to get laid. When was the last time you had a woman?” His question forced Hawk’s intent stare away from the woman.

“I don’t recall asking for advice on my sex life,” he said, his face neutral.

Although he’d gotten to know Brandan, and grudgingly liked the man, he was still a far cry from being bosom buddies with him.

He knew Brandan loved Leila, would do anything for her, and had proven it beyond reason. Hawk was still coming to terms with their relationship.

He no longer had any romantic feelings toward Leila. Any lingering feelings he may have had were cast aside when he realized Brandan had captured her heart.

In his heart he knew he didn’t care for her in the same way Brandan did, realized it with startling clarity when she’d told him that she loved the man, her face so brightly lit with love, it left no doubt in his heart that she truly did.

And in that moment, after he’d gently kissed her, he realized his feelings for her were nothing like those she and Brandan shared. He didn’t even think he was capable of loving another with that same intensity.

Leila needed a man who loved her with all the passion and fire she deserved. A man that could give his whole heart to her, not one who could give her a pale imitation.

As Brandan helped Leila with her coat, again, Hawk’s eyes were drawn to the woman sitting alone at the table. He heard Leila murmur a thank you followed by the sound of a kiss, yet his full attention was on the woman.

When Brandan moved in front of his line of vision to retrieve his things, he turned back to Leila.

“Hey, Leila, the woman at table five sitting alone—is she a regular?” Hawk said casually, motioning with his head to the table where she sat.

She scanned the restaurant, squinting, her brows drawn together until her gaze lit on Danita, the only diner left among the handful that was sitting alone.

“Oh, you mean Danita. And no, you probably haven’t seen her too often. The few times you’re here I don’t think Danita has been. But, yes, she’s been coming to the diner for the last few years,” she said, the corner of her mouth hitched in a small smile. “She’s pretty, isn’t she? Single, too. At least there are no rings on her finger stating the contrary,” she added, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile.

When Hawk made no response, his face neutral, she touched his thick forearm with her fingertips. “Hawk, when’s the last time you went out on a date with a woman? Just kicked back and had fun, no worrying about the plight of mankind?” When he felt his face tighten, he knew she picked up on his discomfort when she sighed.

“I’m not making light of your work, what you do is not only admirable, but needed. I’m just saying that once in a while you should think of yourself, and just have fun,” she said.

Hawk glanced down at Leila, concern reflected within the light brown depths of her eyes, and he felt his face and body relax.

He could trust Leila. She cared for him, just as he did for her. She would never intentionally hurt him.

“I know you’re concerned about me,” he said and gave her a brief hug. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” The two of them exchanged a shared moment of memories, memories of growing up, taking care of each other, of her great-aunt—a woman he considered family as well—telling them it was their duty to not only take care of each other, but to help anyone who needed them.

It was something Hawk had taken to heart, sometimes to the exclusion of all else, sacrificing a real personal life in his desire to help those that society had cast away.

He took her face between his palms, smoothing away the lines of worry. “I’m fine. Now go have fun with that big brute of a husband who is now bearing down on us, looking like he wants to rip out my arms from their sockets for touching his woman,” he said, and just to piss Brandan off, he laid a gentle kiss on Leila’s soft lips.

“You butt!” she laughed softly, knowing he was kissing her to piss off Brandan, and handed him the key to the diner.

When Brandan reached her side, and pulled her tight against him, a deep frown on his face, Hawk’s mouth stretched into a wide grin.

“Let’s go, Leila, we don’t want to be late.” Turning his wife away, shooting a look of warning on his face aimed at Hawk, they left. Leila allowed him to lead her away, waving good-bye to Hawk over her shoulder.

Soon after they left, the remaining diners finished and paid their bill, leaving only he and Danita, alone, in the diner.

He finished closing down, quickly locking up Leila’s office, and finalizing the accounting for the day.

The only one left was the woman—Danita. He wiped his hands on the white dishcloth and walked over to where she sat, lost in her own thoughts.

“L
et me refill that for you.”

Danita glanced up, startled, when the deep, low voice spoke and a hand reached over and removed her mug.

He refilled her mug and set it in front of her, surprising her when he set a second mug across from her on the table.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked, and she mutely shook her head. “There’s no one else to serve, so you have me all to yourself,” he said, and the smile he gave her was innocent enough, but the glint in his nearly black eyes and the flash of teeth that accompanied the smile set her heart thudding against her chest.

She glanced around and with a start, realized he was right; there was no one in the diner besides the two of them, not even Leila or her husband.

She glanced at the antique clock in the corner of the diner, the large hands and face displaying the lateness of the hour.

“I didn’t know it was this late—I didn’t even notice everyone leaving!” she exclaimed and began to remove her leather coat from the back of her chair.

He leaned over and placed a staying hand on top of hers, stalling her action.

“You don’t have to go. There’s no rush for you to leave,” he assured her.

“No, I’d better go. I imagine Leila and Brandan want to get out of here. Quite sure they have better things to do with their time than wait for one lonely woman to get out of their hair so they can go on with their night,” she said, though she could have cut out her tongue when she realized how pathetic she must have sounded.

“They already cut out thirty minutes ago or so. I told Leila I’d lock up for her.”

Her somber mood changed to one of apprehension, realizing she didn’t know anything about the man who sat across from her, his deep, dark, hooded eyes intensely focused on hers as he drank from his mug.

“Once in a while I help Leila out around the diner. We’ve known each other for years,” he said, and Danita realized he was seeking to put her at ease, no doubt reading the apprehension from her.

Still, the man could be an ax murderer for all she knew. She sure in hell wasn’t taking any chances just because he told her he and Leila were friends.

As she moved back in her chair, preparing to leave, her glance rolled over his tall, lean body as he sat across from her.

She had known Leila for well over a year and she couldn’t remembering seeing the man before. Yet something about him was familiar.

“My name is Jarred—my friends call me Hawk—and yours?” he asked, speaking casually, as though she weren’t about to get the hell out of the diner as fast as her two feet could take her.

She paused, her coat clutched in her hands when he said his name. Hawk.

She bit the corner of her lips, hesitating.

She remembered Leila mentioning on several occasions her friend Hawk, a man she’d grown up with. And on more than one occasion, Danita had wanted to meet the man who could put a smile on the face of Leila so easily.

She’d thought the two were lovers, as Leila would occasionally mention going someplace or other with Hawk. In fact, when Leila had met Brandan, Hawk’s name had come up several times and she’d wondered if there was more to their relationship than brotherly/sisterly love.

However, once she’d seen Brandan and Leila together she’d known that, at least for Leila, there was no one else who held claim to her heart.

“Danita,” she said giving him a small, tight smile in return, and slowly she eased back down in her chair and returned her coat to the back of her seat.

She picked up her mug and took a careful sip, warily watching Hawk over the rim, a nervous feel in the pit of her stomach at the thought that she was all alone with him.

The kaleidoscope of images she’d had of their bodies straining, limbs twining and tangled together, flashed through her mind.

Hawk raised the small mug of steaming tea to his mouth and drank, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt her nervousness, and knew that she would easily bolt from the restaurant at any moment. He wanted to keep her at ease, let her know that she had nothing to fear from him, wanted her to believe she was safe with him.

“So, Danita, what do you do?” he asked, hoping the easy question would make her feel more comfortable.

“I’m a psychotherapist. I work mostly with young women. Most of my client’s ages range between eighteen and twenty-four.”

“That’s a challenging age,” he replied easily.

“It is. It’s the age where you’re supposed to be grown up, not quite a child anymore, but not exactly an adult either.”

“But it’s rewarding working with that age group.”

She tilted her head in a questioning look. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

He smiled. “I have some.” When he didn’t continue, simply took another sip of his tea, she didn’t press him for details.

“Yes, it is rewarding. Wish everyone felt the same.” She didn’t know what came over her, but she felt comfortable talking to him.

“What you do is rewarding. Sometimes reward isn’t measured in dollars and cents. To help another in need is often its own reward. A single moment of understanding can flood a whole life with meaning.”

“Very true.” Danita was struck by the simplicity, the sincerity, of his statement.

“Thanks.”

“Wise old family saying?” she asked, and felt like kicking her own butt if she could have reached it, as soon as the words flew from her mouth, especially when he coughed around the sip of tea he’d just swallowed.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“I’m sorry—I assumed you were Native American, please—”

“I am. But the saying isn’t from any Native American history. Read it once in a fortune cookie,” he said, and when his wide mouth stretched into a grin, Danita laughed with him, relieved she hadn’t offended him.

“But yes, you’re right. It is rewarding,” she finished.

“What made you want go into therapy as a profession?” he asked her, and Danita felt flutters in her stomach at the intensity of his regard.

“Hmmm, do you want the standard answer?”

He laughed. “We can start with that.”

She took a sip of her tea and mulled it over. “I suppose I’ve always wanted to know what made us tick as human beings. I was always interested in knowing the inner workings of the human mind. I can’t tell you how many times my mother came into my room as a child, and I’d have one of my Barbie dolls wearing a lab coat, sitting in one of the little chairs that came with my pink and diamond decked-out Barbie playhouse,” she started, and he laughed.

Grinning, she continued, “And Barbie would have old Ken laying on the couch…in deep therapeutic session, discussing his latest emotional crisis. My mom would stand there with this strange look on her face and turn away. Didn’t matter though. Barbie and I were determined to unearth the reasons behind Ken’s reticence about asking Malibu Barbie to marry him after years of living together. I mean, come
on
, how long was she supposed to wait? They’d been dating since the sixties!” she finished, her face completely serious.

When she could no longer hold her laughter in check, it erupted, and Hawk threw back his head and laughed along with her.

After their laughter had subsided, a small, lopsided grin fell on Hawk’s face, and his gaze was so intent, she suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“What?” she asked under his dark-eyed scrutiny. She touched her hair, fingering the errant strands that had escaped.

“No, don’t” he said, reaching a hand up and covering her hand. She raised questioning eyes to his.

“It’s been a long day, I must look a mess,” she said, desperately wishing for a mirror to freshen her long-ago applied makeup and tidy her hair.

“You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“I’m a bit disheveled. It’s been a long day,” she said, flutters dancing in her lower belly in reaction to his long, lean fingers stroking her fingers. He gently tugged her hand away from her chignon and placed it on the table.

She glanced down at their interlaced fingers on top of the old checkered table.

“If disheveled means sexy, than yes…you are disheveled.” His smile, so hot, so…intent, made Danita’s heart thump heavily in her chest.

“Do you work for an agency, or are you in private practice?” he asked, and Danita was relieved with the change of subject.

“Both, in a way.”

“How’s that?” he asked, and her eyes followed his as he took a bite of the muffin and swallowed, the strong muscles in his throat working the food down his body.

Their gazes locked, holding for what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality could only have been seconds.

“You said you did both? In what way?” With his question she mentally shook her head, and concentrated on what he was asking her.

“I started out working in child welfare,” she said, and the sigh from her lips escaped without her awareness.

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, that bad,” she agreed, remembering her short stint working in the state welfare department after completing her bachelor’s degree.

“Lots of long hours, low pay, and sacrifice,” he murmured. Startled, she glanced at him.

“Sounds like you know a bit about it,” she replied, hoping he’d share something more of himself with her.

“You could say that.” His smile, like hers, was bittersweet, yet he offered up no more information.

Danita opened her mouth to ask more, but instantly clamped it closed. If he wanted to tell her more, he would. No amount of prodding would help. She knew that from her years counseling.

Instead, she munched on her muffin and took the last drink of tea, before continuing. “So, after grad school, I moved here at a friend’s insistence. She’d met a guy and moved here after graduating from high school,” she said with a laugh, thinking of Larissa. “Things didn’t work out with the guy, but she loved the city. Went to college, got a degree in psychology, and offered to be my assistant.”

“Was that the woman sitting with you earlier?”

“Yes, Larissa. We were supposed to go to a movie, but, well…”

“Change of plans?” he asked, and laughed at her expression.

“Yeah. Something like that,” she agreed, and laughed with him.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any boyfriend in the picture?”

His bold question threw Danita. Unwanted thoughts of Warren came to mind.

“No. Yes. I mean…yes, there is.” She knew her answer was about as clear as mud, but she hadn’t figured out her relationship with Warren herself.

Of late, she wondered if she was going along with what everyone else wanted—expected—of her, rather than what she wanted.

She changed the subject, and for the next hour they exchanged light banter. But beneath the banter was a sexual tension, from the way he smiled when she would laugh, to his careful attention to her, refilling her tea without her asking it. When the grandfather clock in the corner of the diner chimed, signaling it was midnight, Danita was surprised how the time had gone by so swiftly.

She laughed self-consciously. “Lord, I’ve been talking your ear off. I must be boring you to tears,” She laughed again. “You seem to bring out the jabber jaws in me. Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” she asked.

Danita also realized that over the course of the last hour, she’d talked more to a stranger, a man she didn’t know, than she had with anyone else in a long time. So used to being the one people naturally seemed to tell all their problems to, she was unused to telling so much about herself, much less to a stranger.

He laughed. “No, I’m not a therapist, not by a long stretch. It’s just easy for people to talk to me, I’ve been told. Not that I’m complaining. Not in the least!” he inserted when she bit her lip, knowing she’d just talked the poor man’s ears off, nonstop, for over an hour.

“No, just the opposite. I’m enjoying getting to know you,” he said, reaching out to lightly stroke her hand that was laying on the table.

“Is that what we’re doing? Getting to know each other?”

“We are if that’s what you want us to do,” he replied in his low voice, sending tingling awareness coursing through her body, reminding her that they were all alone, no one around.

The normally bustling café was quiet, the overhead lights were turned off, and the main lights coming from behind the counter offered them a very intimate setting.

She smiled at him. “Yeah, I guess I do,” she replied to his question. “I’ve talked so much about myself,” she said, curious about the man who sat so intently in front of her, making her feel like she was the only woman in the world at the moment.

“Hmmm. Just a working man. Not much to tell,” he replied.

“Come on! I’ve sat here for the last hour telling you my whole life story! I think you could throw me a crumb and tell me about you,” she smiled, and the small, appealing dimple appeared in the corner of her pretty, bow-shaped mouth.

“Hmmm. A crumb, huh? I like to take long bubble baths with lighted candles. Scented ones. I’m particularly partial to the blackberry scented ones. But if you tell Leila’s husband that, I’ll deny it to the end. Gotta keep up the macho image,” he replied, teasing her, hoping to see the cute dimple appear again.

When the pink tip of her tongue snuck out to ream her bottom lip, and her eyes widened, her chest rising sharply, the teasing left and Hawk was once again aware of the growing tightness, the sexual tension that lay silent between them, yet very much a part of their surrounding.

His penis thumped against the buttons of his jeans in reaction. He stared at her, and saw that she too was affected.

Her large, drowsy-looking brown eyes dominated her small face, and his gaze had constantly been drawn to her bow-shaped lips as she spoke to him. Now, as she sat across from him, her petite body nestled deep in her chair comfortably with her feet curled beneath her chair, he wanted to pick her up and sit her in his lap and get to know her on a completely different level.

He shifted in the vinyl-covered seat, his cock thickening, the semierection he’d had since he’d first laid eyes on her, thickening as images of the two of them together played in vivid movielike sequence in his mind.