Hawk sighed. There’d be shit coming his way soon enough. There was no way they’d approve of him getting serious about Kit—because no one in the fucking world would want Hawk to be a father. They knew, if nothing else, his parents had gone to prison and he’d had a shitty childhood. They might well have figured out that his father had been an abusive asshole.
Sooner or later, he’d have to explain that he knew better than to get involved—and Kit wasn’t serious about him, anyway.
“Where’s your girl?” Hawk asked.
“Which one?” Caz grinned. “JJ is working. Gabe and Audrey took Regan and Aric off for a fishing lesson, since Tucker and Guzman acquired kid-sized poles.”
The two backcountry men were rapidly turning into doting honorary uncles.
When Hawk’s phone dinged, he checked the text message and sighed. So much for his day off. He tapped in a reply.
“Work?” Caz asked.
“The campers I dropped off last week. A bear got their supplies.”
“Good thing they took a satellite phone and are high enough to get a signal. Do they want you to fly them in some food?”
“Yeah.” Hawk pulled up the aviation weather unit. Fog in the forecast, dammit. “I need to hurry. Did Kit go fishing too?”
“No, she doesn’t have a license yet. Why?”
Hawk bit back his first response—none of your business—and went for honest. “She likes flying.”
Caz opened his mouth. Closed it. “Ah. Then you two have a good day. If Aric gets back before you, one of us will look after him.”
“Thanks.” Hawk didn’t care if his brothers knew he was interested in Kit. Growing up in a tiny cabin meant they’d gotten used to the lack of privacy. However, he did care if they gave Kit any grief.
Caz had manners. Gabe and Bull—they might tease Kit.
They’d learn better. Hawk examined his scarred-up knuckles. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d punched a brother for poking his nose in where it didn’t belong.
Kit held her breath as Hawk made a pass over a high mountain clearing to check the wind.
Below them, several tents were set in a circle. A man sitting beside a big camp stove waved a ladle in a welcome.
Centering the helicopter, Hawk landed them as gently as a falling feather.
She pulled off her headphones. “You are an incredible pilot.”
“When you love something, it’s easy.” His grin flashed for a second. “You garden like I fly.”
The compliment set up a happy glow inside her, especially since it was true. She really did have a green thumb. And he’d noticed.
Smiling, she jumped out, delighted that nothing hurt any longer. Her ribs and healing incision were fine. Although her arm ached occasionally and wasn’t as strong as her left, it was improving.
Life was good.
She drew in a long, slow breath of crisp, cold air scented with evergreen.
“Woohoo! The supplies!” Five men burst out of the forest and converged on the helicopter. As the guys greeted Hawk, he started handing out boxes.
Kit took a step forward to help with the carrying. But…all those men. Her heart started to thud within her ribcage. As her palms turned clammy, she rubbed them on her jeans.
How about a nice stroll, staying in sight? She glanced back at the helicopter and realized Hawk was watching her.
He tilted his head in an obvious query. Are you all right?
She nodded and managed a smile.
For the next few minutes, she strolled around, staying in sight, yet at a distance from any of the men. Now and then, she’d stop to simply enjoy the beauty of the mountain scene. Aside from the men talking, the world was incredibly quiet.
After unloading was complete, the man who was cooking wandered over to exchange handshakes with Hawk before returning to the camp stove.
On Kit’s next circuit, she saw the guys showing Hawk the mess the bear had made. They’d hung their food packs from a tree limb, but bears could apparently climb when given the right incentive. Who knew?
So Hawk was instructing them on how to keep their food safe. She had to smile at the way he was standing, his back to the helicopter. Probably so no bear could sneak up on him.
Or… When his gaze met hers, she realized he’d positioned himself so he wouldn’t lose sight of her in her rambles around the clearing.
It took her a second to blink away the burn from her eyes, and then she smiled at him. Thank you.
His eyes crinkled, and he continued talking to the men.
On her next lap, the cook called, “Ma’am.” When she walked over, he gave her a quiet smile and handed her a big mug of coffee. “Hawk said you use creamer and a couple teaspoons of sugar.”
“That’s perfect, thank you.” Hawk remembered how she liked her coffee. The knowledge made her feel funny inside.
“It’s good to see him with a nice woman.”
Oh, boy, she might need to process that statement for a while. “You know him? Are you from Rescue?”
“That town of his? Nah, we were both deployed in Afghanistan.” His mouth flattened, then he shook his head, much as she did when reminding herself to stay in the present. “The Night Stalkers—they’re hell of incredible. You know about them, ma’am?”
“It’s Kit. And no, I don’t.” That was the name on the beret Hawk had let Aric hold to prove he’d return. Just the name was ominous. “Who are they?”
“They’re Special Ops pilots, and their helicopters are seriously hi-tech. They flew us in, provided close air support when we needed it. Did recon sometimes. Always in the thick of it.”
Her skin went cold. “That sounds awfully dangerous.”
“Hell, yeah. The bastards saved my ass more than once. Hawk was one of the best.” The man smiled. “It’s nice to see him here, making himself a good life.”
The grim note in his voice told her he was still working on that good life.
The past wasn’t easy to escape, was it, but they all coped as best they could. Hawk played his violin. She grew flowers. This man was here fishing.
“I think he’d say the same about you,” she said quietly, then grinned. “Well, he would if you could get him to use that many words.”
Ruston’s guffaw joined with Kit’s clear laughter and caught Hawk’s attention. She didn’t laugh nearly enough.
Turning, he saw the burly Marine Raider grinning down at her.
“Don’t often hear Ruston laugh like that,” Foreman muttered. “Your woman’s got a way about her.”
Hawk nodded—she did—and then continued his instructions.
Once they’d learned how to keep their food safe, he checked the sky. “Time to go. There’s fog coming in.”
It’d not only suck to fly into a mountain, but he wasn’t about to risk Kit’s life. Ever.
He joined Ruston and Kit at the camp stove.
“I like her,” the retired Marine announced. “You should keep her.”
Kit sputtered, but her eyes danced.
“I like her too.” Hawk held his arm out and was pleased when she leaned against him so he could pull her close. He was enjoying the silent dance of consent between them. “We need to be off.”