Page 108 of Wrecked
“Hey, cuz,” Tommy said. “How’s it going?”
Hawk wanted to ask his cousin why he wasn’t at work. Instead, he said, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking Mags to dinner, then a movie.”
“Or a concert,” Mags added.
Tommy shot her a smile. “Whatever you want.”
“We’ve got a meeting,” Hawk said to Mags.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Any chance we can move it to Monday?”
She’d never missed a meeting and he wasn’t gonna bust her chops for this one. If Tommy was moving on from Addison, that was reason enough to let the meeting slide.
“Monday works.”
“Thanks for being so flexible,” Mags said with a smile.
“You guys have a good weekend,” Hawk said.
“See ya,” Tommy replied.
That was Hawk’s last meeting of the day. Time for him to cut out early himself. After shutting down his computers, he pulled his office door shut, and took off toward the elevator. As he passed Mags’s office, he glanced in as Tommy tucked Mags’s short hair behind her ear and kissed her.
Hallelujah. He’s moved on.
On the way home, he stopped at the liquor store, then hit the local butcher for steaks.
“Someone’s having a dinner party,” said the butcher.
“Poker night.”
“Dang, we eat chips at my poker nights. You’re doing it up right, Hawk.”
“Gotta feed my boys before I take their money.” He winked, grabbed the wrapped meat, and left.
After a long run, he stopped at the gym for weights, then back home.
At six fifteen, the guys started showing up. First, Stryker and Cooper, then Prescott. Not long after, Jericho arrived.
Hawk had lined up the bottles on his kitchen counter. Whiskey, tequila, rum, and vodka. Hanging with his boys was the easiest thing Hawk did. While grilling the steak and corn on his balcony, Prescott joined him.
“I stopped by the hospital to see Granddad,” Prescott said.
“Any improvement?”
“Slow. Mom and Dad are trying to convince them to sell the farm.”
“That can’t be going well.”
“No, but Grandmom is staying with them, and she likes it.”
“Good,” Hawk replied as he started flipping the meat. He lifted the lowball glass, sipped the top-shelf whiskey. “I gotta talk to you about a woman.”
Prescott’s eyebrows hiked up. “Really? That’s good.”
“No, it’s not.”
