CHAPTER TWENTY
“Goaheadanddowhat you need to do in here, and I’ll open the wine.” Hawk stood and kissed the top of Charlotte’s head. “Would you prefer red or white?”
“Either one works for me.” A glass of wine would go a long way toward helping her relax.
“You got it. Take your time.” He tucked her hair over her ear, turned, and headed toward the door.
Hawk sure did seem to like touching her—and she wastotallyokay with that.
She watched him walk away, enjoying the view of his tight butt and broad shoulders, still wondering how in the world she got so lucky.
Charlotte pushed up off the bed and quickly unzipped her suitcase. She took everything out and laid it on the bed to organize before putting it away. She thought back to the conversation she had with her mom in the bathroom at the diner.
“Hawk seems like a nice man.” Her mom had leaned close to the mirror to freshen her lipstick.
“He really is, and … this is going to sound silly, but … do you believe in soul mates?” Charlotte hadn’t intended to ask her that, it just sort blurted out of her.
Her mom’s hand stopped when she was midway across her top lip, and she looked at her daughter’s reflection in the mirror.
“Do I believe in soul mates?” She considered it. “Yeah, I do. I believe there is a special person out there for each of us. We just have to find them. Is that how you feel about Hawk?”
“I think so. I don’t know. All Idoknow is, when I’m with him, he makes me feel special and I find myself wanting things I never thought I could have,” Charlotte said.
“And that scares you.” Her mom knew her too well. She finished with her lipstick, snapped on the cap, and dropped it into her purse. “Caring about someone,lovingsomeone can be scary. But when those feelings are mutual, it is magical and totally worth the risk. So, whatever insecurities or fear you may have that are tripping you up, you need to let them go. Don’t get in the way of your own happiness.”
“The thing is … Hawk and I were chatting in the car, and he asked about my father. I told him I don’t know who my father is, which, of course, aroused his curiosity.”
“Ah. Now I see what you’re worried about.” Her mom hung the strap of her little purse on her shoulder and turned to face her. “Look, honey, if you care about Hawk as much as I think you do—and if the way he looks at you is any indication, he certainly seems to care a great deal about you, too—then you absolutely must be open and honest with him. And since my story is your story, too, he needs to know everything. Because secrets are like a disease. If kept hidden, they will eat away at you and destroy everything you care about.”
“Are you sure, Mom?” Charlotte asked.
“Of course, I’m sure. Besides, Hawk seems like the kind of man who is solid and strong enough to handle most anything you throw at him.” She pulled her into a hug. “Sweetie, what happened to me was terrible, indefensible, but it gave me you. For that, I’m eternally grateful.” After a last gentle squeeze, she stepped back and focused on her shoes. “So, are you jealous of my new shoes or what?”
And just like that, her mother had changed the subject, lightened the mood, and dispelled Charlotte’s concerns.
She grinned at the memory, grabbed some hangers, and hung up her shirts and extra pair of jeans. She slid out the top drawer and started stacking the few items of clothing inside. She pushed the drawer shut and noticed a four-by-six framed photo sitting on top of the dresser.
It looked like Hawk when he was maybe elementary-school age. He was standing next to a younger boy with longer hair and similar features she guessed might be his brother. They were on the bank of a river, and the youngest boy was holding a fishing pole in one hand. A very large, freshly caught fish hung from his fingers in the other. Hawk had his arm loosely draped over the boy’s shoulders, and both of them had huge, toothy smiles.
The childlike joy they shared over catching a fish had her wanting to hear more about Daniel and the rest of Hawk’s family.
Charlotte shut the suitcase and set it in the corner, then grabbed her toiletry bag and dashed into the bathroom. She flipped a bunch of switches on the wall next to the door, and a set of lights flashed on over both sinks and one over the shower. Another one shone down, spotlighting a freestanding, oval-shaped tub set in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out to the woods behind the house.
“Holy moly.” Her mouth gaped open, and her free hand dropped to her side as she took in the amazing space.
Next to the tub was a walk-in shower big enough for two people, with a single pane of glass separating it from the rest of the room. The shower walls were covered with the same blue-gray slate as the ones used on the floor. Smooth river rocks in a range of colors that complemented the slate tiles made up the shower floor. The rest of the walls were covered in a textured, sage-green wallpaper. The design of the space was calming and made her feel like she was being enveloped by nature.
She thought of what Hawk said about the importance of being grounded in the things that matter. One of those being the land.
She looked down and wiggled her toes inside her socks, then glanced over her shoulder at the bank of switches next to the door and noticed one of them controlled the temperature of the floors.
“No wonder my feet are nice and toasty.” Charlotte stepped across the room and set her things out on the granite countertop. She put her shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and razor on the built-in shelf in the shower.
She loved her bathroom at home, but it was small compared with Hawk’s guest bath.
Charlotte twisted the handle on the faucet, cupped her hands beneath the flow, and splashed warm water on her face. She shut the water off, reached over and pulled the fluffy hand towel from the bar and dabbed her face dry.
She checked her reflection in the mirror and groaned.
