Stone Sober: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 3) Read online

No thanks.

  Hot, sweaty sex is one thing. But being tied up is another. Scarlett can have Steve. I’ll take a hard pass.

  “Mr. Hawke, here’s your espresso.” I look up from my computer screen and smile at my secretary, Heidi, as she sets the small, porcelain cup down on my desk. It’s my seventh shot today, and my body is practically buzzing from all the caffeine.

  “Thank you, Heidi.”

  She pushes her brown, greying hair behind her ears and returns my smile. “No problem, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Fuck, she just doesn’t get it.

  “You can stop calling me sir.” Heidi has been working for me since I started at Leibmann, Marshall, and Spano right after graduation. Normally, having a woman call me sir goes straight to my dick. But having a woman old enough to be my mother constantly calling me sir is a whole different ballgame. I only play ball in the bedroom, not in my office, and certainly not with my employees. “I’ve told you to call me Mr. Hawke or Stone.”

  Her lips press together, and her head tilts to the side, studying me for a moment. Eventually, she nods. “Right, Stone.” A tight laugh escapes her, and she brushes her hands down the front of her skirt. “Sorry, it’s just unusual around here.”

  No doubt.

  Heidi is old school, just like the firm. The partners here are past geriatric and closer to one foot in the grave, and they like things done the way they have been done since the practice opened in the 1950s. It’s one of the many reasons I’ve never completely fit in here. Following orders or a delineated structure was never really my strong suit. If I’m not the one in charge, I tend to not play well with others.

  I think the only reason they keep me around is that I’m young and handsome and juries and judges love me. The fact that I’m also smarter than most, if not all, of the other twenty attorneys in the firm doesn’t hurt either.

  And that’s not just ego talking. Those are the cold, hard facts. I’m their go-to guy when they’re struggling with difficult legal arguments and maneuverings. I can see things in a way no one else can, and it usually allows me to save their asses when they’d otherwise be shit outta luck.

  They’ve let my slip-ups and missed deadlines fly because they need me. I stay because I like the money and what the money allows me to do. Like fly back and forth to New Orleans on a moment’s notice to put out fires for Dom.

  Not that I actually like doing that, but being back home has its benefits, and I owe Dom. Big. I’ll never forget what he did for me or what happened, even though I’ve tried for years. I owe him everything. He put me on the path that got me where I am today, so even if I may have a few reservations about his tactics, I keep them to myself.

  If the firm knew about my involvement with him, or what I’ve been doing in NOLA, they would can me in a heartbeat.

  But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  I’m still fucking exhausted from this weekend. When I landed back in San Diego late last night, all I wanted to do was drive home and crash—hard. But before I had even set foot in the door of my condo, my phone had rung, and I had to spend three hours talking Dom out of doing something really fucking stupid. Again. He’s a smart man, but lately, his decision making has been a bit…questionable.

  Now, I’m running on two hours of sleep and epic amounts of caffeine just trying to make it through the day so I can crawl into bed and get some much needed sleep.

  “It’s fine, Heidi. Thank you for the coffee. I don’t need anything else.”

  She moves to walk out the door but turns back to me when she reaches the jamb. “Oh, I almost forgot. You told me to remind you that the motion on the Ramirez case has to be filed first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Fucking Ramirez.

  I had intended to get the motion done before I left for NOLA, but a beautiful blonde had distracted me the night before I left. Then, instead of working on it on the plane, I had two stiff drinks and passed out. Every single minute of my time home was so jam-packed with either family obligations or Dom obligations, I didn’t even have time to think about it. And when things finally calmed down my last night there, I spent it ogling Nora and fucking Renee instead of working.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  This is a deadline I can’t miss. Or move.

  No amount of flirting with the clerk is going to get me an extension.

  It looks like another all-nighter.

  “Thanks for reminding me, Heidi. Are you taking off for the evening?”

  She nods. “Unless you need something?”

  I shoo her away with my hand. “Go. Have a good night.” There’s nothing she can do to help me anyway, other than maybe grab me some more coffee.

  “You too, sir.”

  I grit my teeth to keep from correcting her again. There’s only one woman I want calling me sir right now. And she’s back in New Orleans, wrapped around a pole. But I don’t have time to be distracted by fantasies about the angel of the Hawkeye Club. There’s too much work to be done to let my dick steal any blood from my brain right now.

  The door to my office shuts behind Heidi, and I drop my face into my hands.

  Christ, I really fucked this up.

  Instead of driving home and climbing into my crisp white sheets, I’m going to be stuck here all night staring at my white computer screen and wishing I hadn’t blown this off until the last minute.

  I’ll get it done. I always do. I work better under pressure, anyway. There were many nights during law school I stayed up straight through to finish an assignment last minute or to study for an exam I should have been preparing for all semester. And I still managed to finish top five in the class. There’s nothing like procrastination to bring out the best, at least in me.

  Still, I’m going to need more espresso, or maybe even something stronger.

  I open the Ramirez case file on my computer and hunker down to dive into my long night’s work. Two sentences barely hit the page before my cell rings.

  Shit.

  It’s Dom.

  Ignoring it isn’t an option.

  “Hello?”

  “Stone, I’m glad I was able to reach you.”

  Like I’m hard to get ahold of?

  I’m basically at his beck and call.

  I’ve barely been gone from town twenty-four hours, and we’ve already spoken once.

  What could he possibly need now?

  I down my espresso in one gulp and prepare myself for whatever crisis required this call.

  “What’s up, Dom?”

  He lets out a long sigh. “The shit is really starting to hit the fan here, Stone. What we discussed last night, well, things have gotten worse. I need you back here. Permanently.”

  I scrub my hand over my face. We’ve had this conversation before. Pretty much every time I go to NOLA, Dom tells me he needs me to stay. He’s not wrong. Things are getting messy for him. He needs someone to help him weed through all the bullshit and put out the fires. I just don’t know why it has to be me.

  “Dom, we’ve talked about this. I have a job and a life here.” The stable of women I have available to me in San Diego ensures I never go without, and there’s always a willing partner up for anything. If I’m in NOLA, in such close proximity to Nora, I’m going to end up spending every night at the club. And I’m not confident I’ll be able to stay away from her any more. That will lead nowhere good. It also means dealing with the rest of the Hawke clan on a daily basis. That’s more stress than I care to have to deal with.

  “You’re the only one I trust anymore, Stone. Please come home. I need you.”

  “We’re not having this conversation again.” I glare across the table at Dani, and she feigns innocence while moving a sleeping Kennedy from one shoulder to the other.

  Seriously, you would think she could take a hint and drop it, already.

  “What? All I said was you should consider going back to school.”

  I guess it was too much to h
ope that after almost two years, she would finally let it go and accept the fact that I’m not returning to the pre-med program.

  “And I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m happy working for Savage.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. He’s her husband, and I know she loves him, but I don’t think she’ll ever be one hundred percent on board with his business. At least, not as long as I am working there. It’s one thing if it’s strangers, but when it’s your sister, withholding judgment can be tough. Especially for someone like Dani who doesn’t withhold anything. I don’t think she was born with a filter.

  “She does have a point, Nora.”

  I turn to Caroline and narrow my eyes. “Oh yeah, what point is that?”

  She shrugs. “Well, you are young and beautiful now, but you won’t always be. What are you going to do when your metabolism drops along with your tits and ass?”

  Dani barks out a laugh, but I just scowl. “I’m twenty-one, almost twenty-two, I have time to figure it out.”

  Plenty of time.

  It's not that they don't have a point. I'm just sick of hearing people tell me I should be doing more with my life. There's nothing wrong with stripping, and it's not like anything seedy goes down at the club. Savage and Gabe are pretty clear on the fact that shit doesn’t fly. And from what I’ve heard about the manager over at TWO—the new club location they opened a while back—he’s just as strict. I don’t mind it. Having controlled and disciplined employees is necessary to achieve the type of success the Hawkeye brand has and respect the name carries.

  Caroline laughs and rolls her eyes at me. “You say that now, but don’t you ever want what Dani has?” She points to Dani and waits for my response.

  “I guess.”

  I honestly hadn’t really thought about it yet. Just trying to keep up with school took everything out of me. I didn’t have time to date or consider what my future would look like after I graduated. By the time I finished med school and residency, I would have been thirty and working so much, I wouldn’t have had time for a family anyway.

  “Even if you did keep your body in shape, you’re never gonna meet the man of your dreams at a goddamn strip club.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, her eyes dart over to Dani, who scowls at her.

  I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “That's a little judgmental. You don't think decent guys ever go to the club just to blow off a little steam? What does that say about Savage and Gabe? They own the place.”

  Most of the patrons of the club aren’t totally bad guys, they just aren’t exactly white knight, happily-ever-after material either. Although the mystery man who sits in the dark corner booth always manages to get my heart racing and me imagining things I would normally never consider with a customer.

  Dani throws up her free hand to stop the conversation. “Look, I didn't want to get into all that, and I don't want to start an argument. Let's just forget it. I'm just happy to be here with my two favorite girls. I just could not handle being cooped up in the condo anymore. Savage is home so much more now, which is great, but now that Kennedy is here, I’m going stir crazy. I thought after she was born, maybe I would go back to work part-time, because I can do pretty much everything from home, but he doesn't want me to. He doesn't understand that I go crazy not having adult conversations all day. He’s the only one I have to talk to, unless I go across the hall to see Gabe and Skye, but they both work so much. We really need to start doing once a week lunches or something just so that I know I can look forward to a day out of the house.”

  I understand Dani’s plight. Not working and being at home all day is so out of the norm for her. When she quit the paper, it was to stay home with Kennedy, but she never intended for that to be permanent. Knowing Savage, I’m sure the reason he doesn’t want her returning even part-time is the potential need to put Kennedy in daycare or hire a babysitter. Savage doesn’t like anything he can’t control, and leaving his only daughter in someone else’s hands is definitely out of his comfort zone.

  I’m not sure how Dani can stand it, being married to such a control freak. Savage is a wonderful boss and a fantastic husband. I know he treats her like a queen and loves her to death, but there’s no way I would be able to handle that. I’m sure the only reason it works is because she stands up to him and calls him out on his bullcrap.

  Caroline picks up her glass of wine and drains half of it. “Girl, you know I'm down for that. I really miss having you at the office. Dealing with Doug's temper tantrums was always a lot easier when I had you to bitch to.”

  They devolve into a conversation about Dani’s former employer while I turn back to my lunch.

  The burger in front of me isn’t as delicious-looking as it had been when it first arrived. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.

  It’s always the same conversation with Dani, and more recently, our mother. It was only a matter of time before she found out I dropped out of school and have been stripping. When I moved out of my campus apartment once the school realized I was no longer a student, I had my mail forwarded to her place while I had been searching for new digs and staying on a friend’s couch. Apparently, she thought it was perfectly acceptable to commit a federal offense by opening my mail, including the letter from Tulane confirming the cancellation of my scholarship.

  You’d be surprised how red a human face can get when someone’s really angry. I swear, she turned a shade so dark, it was almost purple as her rage overtook her.

  Her reaction was precisely why I hid it from her for so long. I knew she wouldn’t understand, just like Dani never will. She pretends to be okay with it, yet she continuously brings up me returning to school at every opportunity, even spurring our mother to continue to harass me about it as well.

  “How will you explain to people what you do?…What will you do when you can’t use your body anymore?…You won’t have any career or education to fall back on …What were you thinking?…How will you ever find a nice man to settle down with?”

  The questions are always the same, and I always give the same answer. I have time to figure it out. I’m in no rush to decide my entire life. Taking the reins isn’t exactly something I excel at, so I’m perfectly content to let others take the lead right now. I made the only decision I could at the time, and I’m confident it was the right one. I wasn’t cut out for med school. I couldn’t even handle pre-med. I wouldn’t have survived if I’d stayed there under the suffocating mountain of stress.

  I do want to get married and have babies eventually, and working the pole probably isn’t the best place to find my soulmate, but I'm not about to let them know that I agree on that. Right now, I just want to enjoy the freedom that dancing gives me—freedom from the stress of school, freedom from having to think about what I did and why I left, freedom to just be, well, free.

  Dani found her happily ever after, and I’m thrilled for her. But I never want anything to tie me down again—not school, not a job, not a person, not life.

  SAVAGE AND DANI’S REHEARSAL DINNER

  LAST WINTER

  I can’t take any more of this. Time to make my getaway. Maybe if I casually move away from Mom and this conversation, no one will notice.

  My back slams into something hard and something wet splashes down the skin exposed by the open back of my dress.

  “Oh crap!” I turn toward the poor soul I just slammed into. “I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you there.” I survey the damage to his shirt and let my gaze trail up.

  The blue eyes staring back at me can only belong to a Hawke.

  Even if those tell-tale blues weren’t there, it would still be obvious who this is. He's almost a carbon copy of Savage. The same broad shoulders and straining muscles are encased in a crisp, white dress shirt and sport coat, and the same devastating smile touches his lips.

  He glances down at the wet spot on the front of his shirt and his now half-empty glass of what I can only assume is whiskey given the amber color. A smile tugs at the corner of his
lips.

  “No harm done.”

  Dangit, Nora. You’re such an idiot sometimes.

  I should've watched where I was going instead of just backing up, but I had to get away from the conversation with Mom.

  As if this whole rehearsal dinner isn't awkward and overwhelming enough, she had to bring up, yet again, in front of a large group of people that I’m pre-med at Tulane. I still haven’t mustered up the nerve to tell her I quit school and am stripping. I’m sure my reprieve is only brief. She’ll find out soon enough, and I would prefer it come from me, but in the meantime, having to listen to her gush and go on and on about how smart I am and how incredibly proud I make her is way too much to handle.

  Guilt churns in my stomach over lying to her, and now for smashing into Stone and ruining his shirt. I peek up at him from under my lashes and try my best to calm my racing heart.

  “You must be Nora.” His deep voice rumbles with the statement, sending a shiver down my spine.

  What the heck was that?

  I can’t even find my voice to respond. He watches me expectantly. I shift uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny.

  Speak, Nora.

  “Oh, yeah, and you’re Stone?”

  He flashes me a perfectly straight set of white teeth. “That's a pretty fair deduction.”

  I chuckle and glance down at the floor. Looking him in the eye after I just ruined his shirt and spilled his drink is way too overwhelming. I’m such a klutz sometimes. “Look, I'm really sorry about your drink and your shirt.”

  And acting like a total moron.

  His large palm lands on my shoulder, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. The heat from his hand sends a wave of electricity across my exposed skin. “Don't worry about it. It'll dry.”

  I’m rendered speechless, yet again. His hand moves over to my chin, and he tilts my head up until I’m forced to look him in the eye again. “Did you hear me, Nora?”

  Somehow, I manage to snap out of my Stone-induced haze. “Yes, I know, but I should have watched where I was going. I'm just…I'm sorry.”