Page 41 of Damaged Protector

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Page 41 of Damaged Protector

“Almost done,” I announced. “You’ve got a cut here on your shin too.” I rummaged in the bin for a smaller Band-Aid and laughed when I pulled out a box. “You have Chuck Norris bandages?”

Hawk’s eyes finally met mine, and he grinned widely. “Woody bought them for me. There’s a place online where you can have custom ones made with your face on them. That goofy ass ordered these.”

They were indeed dotted with faces of the action star, and I taped one over the small wound on his shin, the backs of my fingers brushing over the coarse hair of his leg.

“All done,” I said, my tone cheery, until I looked up at him. Hawk’s gaze was intent on my face, those dark eyes hooded and filled with… was that anger?

“A-are you mad at me? Was I too rough?” I’d had to scrub his knees in a couple places because there had been tiny bits of gravel embedded.

“Stand up, Bee,” he ordered, and I rose immediately, his voice so gruff and demanding, my body could do nothing else but obey. Tingles erupted between my legs, and what the fuck is wrong with me?

His eyes darted down for a brief second, like he could sense the effect he had on my vagina. “You didn’t hurt me.” Looking away, he mumbled, “God you’re too sweet.”

“For what?” My voice was not much louder than a whisper, but he didn’t answer, instead pushing to his feet.

“I’m going to get a quick workout in and then take a shower before dinner.”

“Don’t take too long. I don’t want you to miss the salad,” I said around the slight tremble in my voice. That earned me a half-smile before he retreated.

Thirty minutes later, I stood at the door of the workout room, attempting to not leave a puddle of drool on the floor. Hawk was gloriously shirtless as he stood facing away from me doing bicep curls.

I’d never been into guys with tattoos, but my mind had now been officially changed. Hawk’s tats were hot as hell.

I’d seen hints of them peeking from his sleeves, but with his shirt removed, I could see a large hawk that covered his entire back, the tips of the wings stretching all the way to his shoulders. The predator seemed to come to life as the muscles beneath the skin flexed with every movement. He also had a chain inked around one bicep and an American flag on the other.

His shoulders and upper back were massive, narrowing to a trim waist. And his legs… let’s just say that Hawk didn’t appear to be one of those men who skipped leg day.

As I ogled, he met my gaze in the mirror, jerking his head in an indication that I should enter. I crossed the room as he finished his set of what appeared to be a million reps before dropping the weights on the floor and turning off the death metal music he’d been playing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, but dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

Swiping a white towel from the weight bench, he scrubbed it over his face before wiping off his chest. The light color was an intriguing contrast to his tanned skin, and I did my best to avert my eyes from the smattering of hair that tapered to a thin line and disappeared into his sweaty waistband.

“Thanks. I’ll grab a shower real quick.”

As he turned toward me, my attention was snared by a puckered scar on the right side of his chest and a thin slash across his ribs.

“What happened?”

“Gunshot,” he informed me, pointing at the first before tracing his index finger over the longer scar. “Knife fight in Iraq.”

My hand went to the base of my throat, and I croaked out, “I’m sorry.”

Hawk slung the towel over his shoulder and flashed me a wry grin. “Nothing to be sorry about. It was a long time ago. I’m fine.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

One black eyebrow quirked up. “No hospital. Bode dug out the bullet and then stitched me up both times.”

Taking another step closer, I inspected the scar on his ribs. “He did a good job. I’ve seen surgical scars that looked worse than this.”

“Yeah, not bad for being stitched in a moving boat in the dead of night.” My eyes widened, and he tossed me a wink. “Occupational hazard.”

Everything inside me softened to mush. These guys had given so much for their country, and I knew the internal scars could run just as deep as the physical ones.

“I want to hug you right now but you’re all sweaty.”

Hawk scoffed, feigning insult. “I’ll have you know my sweat is delightful. See?” He tossed the soaked towel at my face, and I batted it away.




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