Wednesday (Timeless Series #3) (5 page)

The Boxer

Francesca

I was mixing the ingredients for the custard frosting when Laura walked in. “Yaya is here.”

“She is? Thanks.” I set my spatula on a paper towel and covered the bowl so it wouldn’t be exposed to all the flour in the air. I headed to the front, and the closer I got, the louder it became. Voices echoed in the bakery, and the cash register rang nonstop.

Yaya was sitting at a table in the corner, her half sandwich and half salad in front of her. I noticed she didn’t have a dessert so I grabbed a few cookies before I joined her at the table. “Hey, Yaya.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Her eyes lit up like always when she saw me. “Having a good day at work?”

“Absolutely.” I leaned over the table so we could hear each other better. It was always so loud in that place. “I just need to invest in a pair of headphones.”

She chuckled. “Is it loud in the back too?”

“Not really. Thankfully.”

She ate her sandwich and took a bite of her pickle. “Are you working on anything new?”

“I’m making a wedding cake for two bowling champions. Their cake has a bunch of pins on top with bowling balls. It’s actually really cute.”

“Awe. That is cute.”

“I just have to figure out how to make the bowling balls. I would use sugar but I’m afraid they’re too big and might collapse.”

“You’ll figure it out, sweetie. You’re so smart.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Yaya.” She was always my personal cheerleader.

“Things seem to be going well with Hawke.” She moved on to her salad.

“Yeah.” I released a sigh from my lungs, feeling lighter than a cloud. “It’s perfect.”

Yaya smiled at the happiness in my voice. “He’s a good man.”

“He is.” Even if he didn’t always believe it himself.

“And really handsome.”

I chuckled. “That too.”

“He adores you. I can tell every time he looks at you.”

Sometimes when I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me. There were times when we didn’t speak, just had a conversation with our eyes. I could feel his thoughts with a single stare. Now I knew other people noticed it too.

“It doesn’t matter how successful he is, what kind of family he comes from, or what he has to offer. The most important thing is love. And he loves you, dear.”

“I know he does.” I never told Yaya why we went our separate ways. The one time she asked, I didn’t give an answer. Thankfully, she didn’t hold anything against Hawke after he left. She accepted him with open arms, the way she accepted everyone.

“You guys are going to get married someday. I can tell.”

“I know.” There was no one else I’d ever want to be with. Kyle was a good friend and would have made an excellent partner, but with Hawke, it was different. It was true and powerful.

I eyed the clock on the wall and knew I’d let my frosting sit for too long. “I’m sorry, Yaya. I have to go.”

“It’s okay, dear. I know you have to work.”

“I’ll see you later.” I gave her a kiss before I headed back to the counter.

“Frankie.” An older man wearing a beige jacket and a baseball cap gently grabbed my arm. He held a cup of hot coffee in his free hand.

He was a regular customer. I recognized his face. “Hello, sir. What can I do for you?”

“That woman you were talking to…” He nodded to the back where Yaya sat. “Is that your grandmother?”

“Yeah, she is. Why?”

“Well…is there a grandpa in the picture?” He smiled in hope.

“Actually, there’s not. And she’s a very nice woman.”

“Ooh…I think I’m going to buy her a cup of coffee then.”

I smiled. “Good luck. Hope you don’t strike out.”

“Back in my day, I was known as a bit of a ladies man. Met a lot of women in the military.”

“You’re a veteran?”

“World War II.”

“Thank you for your service.” I grabbed his shoulder and gave him an affectionate squeeze. “Now go sweep her off her feet.”

He tipped his hat to me. “I don’t need to be told twice.” He slowly walked to the table where Yaya was sitting, and I watched from my place near the counter. He stopped beside her and engaged her in conversation. After a few minutes, she laughed at something he said.

And I knew Yaya made a new friend.

***

I just got off work and immediately wanted to see the man of my dreams.
I want my grizzly.

I want my muffin.

Then can I come over?

Always.

Well, I’m going to shower before I head over.

I’m just about to hit the gym. Come by in an hour.

I knew he ran in the mornings and did boxing in the afternoons.
Where do you work out?

A boxing facility.

Can I watch?

Sure. But it can get violent.

You know violence doesn’t bother me.

It’s called Brawl. I’ll see you soon.

K.
I didn’t mind watching Hawke get sweaty and hot. That sounded like free porn.

***

The only thing Hawke wore was his running shorts. The endless muscles of his back and chest acted as bulletproof armor. Every time he moved, the muscles shifted and recoiled, showing his strength and power. His spine was defined by the muscles on both sides of it, protecting it from everything. The thickness of his arms would terrify any opponent, and when the veins popped with adrenaline, it turned him into a beast.

A trainer held up two boxing targets for Hawke to destroy. They were pressed to the size of pillows, and the trainer wore a helmet for extra protection. A whistle was between his lips, and the second he blew on it, Hawke charged.

He threw his entire body into the momentum, landing solid punches that drove his trainer back. Punch after punch, the sound of the mat clapped through the entire gym. Other boxers hung at the end of the ring, watching Hawke move.

He danced on his feet, never staying in one place too long. All the muscles of his body were contracting, tightening and bulging with the extra blood. Sweat formed at the nape of his neck and dripped down the valleys between the slabs of muscle.

He never broke his concentration, giving his entire effort completely. He pushed the trainer back with heavy blows, and alternated hands, never using the same one twice. Sometimes, he used his right hook, and other times, he threw his elbow up and forced the trainer to skid across the floor.

The trainer didn’t seem phased by the aggression. Actually, he didn’t seem surprised at all.

Like it was life or death, Hawke came at him again. The fury on his face was unmistakable. He wanted to kill someone—anyone.

A guy by the ring spoke to his friend. “Damn, what’s he pissed about?”

The other guy shrugged. “Everything?”

I knew exactly what he was pissed about. He carried endless grief and this was the only way to release it. His anger built up deep inside him until he was about to blow. He needed this—to stay sane.

Hawke never tired even though ten minutes had passed. His entire body was covered in sweat, sleek like he just stepped out of the rain. Despite his exertion, he looked like he could go on forever.

“Enough.” The trainer rested his hands and removed his gloves. “Good job, Hawke. You should consider going pro.”

Hawke was out of breath. He removed his gloves slowly then tossed them on the ground. “No. I’d kill someone.”

The trainer laughed like he was making a joke.

But he wasn’t.

Hawke climbed through the ropes and jumped to the ground. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. He didn’t make eye contact with me right away, knowing exactly what I was thinking and feeling.

I crossed my arms over my chest, understanding the kind of pain he was in. Nothing had changed since we went our separate ways. He was still suffering, unable to control his rage and let it go. The same demons still haunted him.

He massaged his wrists before he looked up at me, ready to see the disapproval on my face.

I stared back at him, giving nothing away.

He slowly approached me, rubbing his sore knuckles. As if he expected me to call him a monster, he watched me and prepared for a lecture.

My hands reached for his, and I slowly massaged the pain from his muscles. I worked each one, feeling the tension in every tendon. His hands were much larger than mine, and they actually felt heavy when I held them.

I brought his hands to my lips and kissed each knuckle, treasuring the man I loved. It didn’t matter how angry he was. It didn’t matter how much he’d been tortured. He was still the same person to me. “You were great.”

He stared at me without blinking.

I moved in to his chest and pressed a kiss to the skin over his heart, tasting the sweat on my lips.

He took a deep breath when he felt me, like he was relieved I didn’t think less of him.

“Let’s go home.”

***

Hawke immediately headed into the bathroom and started the shower. “Get in with me.”

“You want me to shower with you?” I sniffed my armpit. “Do I stink?”

He wasn’t in the mood for a joke. His hands gripped my shirt and pulled it over my head. Then he unclasped my bra with ease. His eyes scanned my body, taking in my small breasts and petite shoulders.

When he looked at me like that, I couldn’t think about anything else but him. I melted at his feet, yearning for his touch.

He removed my jeans and panties before he undressed himself. His dick was hard like it usually was when he looked at me, but it didn’t seem like he was in the mood for sex.

We both stepped under the warm water and let it drip down our bodies. My hair became soaked and stuck to the back of my neck and shoulders. I stared at his chest and watched the water follow the grooves between his muscles as it fell down.

He grabbed a handful of soap and massaged it into my skin, rubbing my hips then my shoulders. His eyes never left mine, watching every reaction I made. “I’m not any different.”

I knew what he was referring to, and it had nothing to do with the shower. “No, you aren’t.”

His hands glided down my chest to my stomach. “I’ll always be this way—fucked up.”

“You aren’t fucked up, Hawke. You’re just angry. A lot of people are.”

“I want to hurt someone.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I box because I want to hurt someone.”

“But not me.”

He took a deep breath at my words. “No, never you.”

My hands moved up his arms, feeling the muscle underneath. “There’s only one person you want to hurt—and he’s not innocent. It’s okay to feel that way. I don’t think less of you.”

“You don’t think less of me when I’m on a rampage?”

“Never.” I kissed his chest.

“When my mom was in the hospital, he was there.” He mentioned this the night he left me but he never went into detail about it. It was the last conversation we had before he walked out. “Something inside me snapped. I attacked him and beat the shit out of him right in the hospital. It took five security guards to pull me off of him, and when they did, he was bloody. To this day, I wish I had a little more time. I could have snapped his neck and ended his life then and there.”

I knew he meant every word but that didn’t scare me. He wasn’t getting revenge for what happened to him. He was protecting his mom, someone weak and helpless.

“Why won’t she just leave?” His eyes glazed over like he was talking to himself rather than me. “She has enough money. She could even live with me if she wanted. If there’s anyone he’s afraid of, it’s me.”

“It’s out of your control. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“She doesn’t call me when she’s in trouble anymore. But I still worry that something bad is going to happen—and I won’t be there to stop it.”

I understood his need to protect his mom but he couldn’t stop living his life because of her. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I know this is easier said than done, but you have to let it go.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know.”

“I hope he dies.” The unmistakable conviction was in his voice. He wasn’t saying it just because he was angry. He meant every word. “I hope he falls and breaks his skull open.”

I wished for the same thing. “Don’t forget where you are. You’re here—with me.” I cupped his cheeks and looked him in the eye. “When it’s just us two, no one can touch us. No one can take our happiness away.”

He slowly came back to me, his eyes coming back to life. His grip on my hips loosened and his breathing returned to normal. The fury was slowly leaving his body, revealing the calm man underneath.

When the shadow passed from his eyes, I kissed him. “There’s my grizzly.”

His lips stretched into a slight smile before he kissed me again. “You always bring me back into the light.” His hands glided up my back, feeling the small muscles under the skin.