Page 33 of Wrecked
He laughed. “What about the dancing? You didn’t mention that.”
“Who’d I dance with again?”
He draped his arm over her shoulder. “I’m sure that bridesmaid wouldn’t have forgotten me.”
“Probably not, but come tomorrow, you would have forgotten all about her.”
He stopped in front of the henhouse, flicked his gaze in her direction. “You’re right. I would have.”
After opening the door, waited for her to step inside. Once she did, he followed. The blast of chilly air was a welcomed reprieve.
The chickens, startled by their late-day arrival, started clucking and squawking.
“Relax, chicks,” Hawk said before turning to Addison. “This is how cold the reception shoulda been.”
“Ah, c’mon, women love seeing men dripping with animal magnetism. On the right guy, it’s super sexy.”
“Seriously?”
Addison picked up a basket. “Yes, but it’s hard to look sexy soaking wet at a wedding.”
“Did I ruin my reputation?” He collected a basket and moved to the other end of the henhouse.
“Depends on how many women you’ve slept with.”
“In general, or today?”
“Today, Hawk.”
“Well, all of ‘em.”
She laughed. “Then your playboy reputation is still intact.” Moving slowly, so as not to frighten the first chicken, she reached in and collected the first of four eggs.
“Hello, pretty, can I have that?” She placed the egg in the basket, then scooped the other three, one at a time.
The next chicken wouldn’t budge, so she nudged it a little and it moved away. She collected those eggs, pausing to stare at one of them. “This one is covered in freckles. This one is super light, and these are darker. All these shells are just a little different, like people, yet they’re all the same on the inside. Maybe my life would have been easier if I’d been a farmer instead of an assassin.”
“Farmers work their asses off.”
“I wouldn’t have minded. It definitely would have been a less-violent life.”
“Not if you had to kill an animal.”
“Well, I’d be killing it to put it out of its misery or to eat it,” she replied as she walked to the next coop. When she reached inside, the chicken pecked at her hand. “Hey! You need to learn some manners, missy!” She stared at her finger.
In an instant, Hawk was by her side. “Babe, you know Henrietta is aggressive.”
“I didn’t notice it was her. I was focused on the eggs.”
He took her hand, examined her fingertip. “I’m sorry, Ms. Skye, but we need to amputate your hand with a meat cleaver.”
“Idiot.” When she went to tug her hand away, he pressed her finger to his lips, dropped a soft kiss on it.
Then, everything went into slow motion. Her gaze jumped to his mouth. His lips were full and soft, his entire being focused on the small red mark on her finger. His tanned face, flawless skin, and eyes the color of a tropical ocean were even more breathtaking up close.
“Better?” he murmured, those beautiful turquoise pools drilling into hers.
“No, it’s throbbing a little.”
