Chapter 1

1

HAWK

A lot of men would’ve had my balls for this thought, but right then, I would have preferred to be anywhere else than with the honest-to-God supermodel on my arm. People paid her lots of money for being pretty and she was hanging all over me . With legs two miles long and an ass made for spanking, she should’ve captivated me, but she made me feel nothing but bored and annoyed.

Listening to her voice was like having a cheese grater taken to my ears and we didn’t have a single thing in common. Usually, none of those things would’ve bothered me. As it was, we were on a date that was guaranteed to end with her in my bed, but I was undeniably, completely disinterested in this whole scene tonight.

On yet another date with yet another model in yet another hot nightclub in LA, I was suddenly bored with life. Not that anyone would feel sorry for a thirty-something billionaire bachelor who was tired of fancy parties and wild sex. I worked all day, partied late into the night, and went home with someone new I would never see again once the sun rose.

Over and over again, the days ran together in a haze of pleasure. It was all sex and booze and no inhibitions. I was living the dream until I wasn’t. The shine of that life had been fading fast, and I felt the need for something better, something with substance.

Shifting on the stool I was seated on, I turned away from the model and looked around, wondering if I could slip out without her noticing. Lights flashed red, green, and blue over the packed dance floor below and up here in the VIP area. She seemed adequately entertained by the pretty colors. I could be out the back exit and halfway home before she noticed.

Then she grabbed my arm and squealed in my ear. “This song is a banger! Hawky, baby! Dance with me.”

She put her drink down on the edge of the cocktail table beside us, then pushed herself away from it a little too hard and teetered on her heels. Obviously feeling the effects of the bottle service, she grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling over. Swaying like a newborn fawn, she tried to regain her balance. Giggles peeled from her full lips as if it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to her.

“Oops.” She winked at me, or at least she attempted to, but it looked more like her eyelid was spazzing out. “Will you dance with me? It has to go on my Insta.”

At that exact moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I sighed with quiet relief as I pulled it out. “Sorry, Marla.”

“It’s Darla!”

I nodded. “That’s what I said, baby. Now duty calls.”

I’d planned on letting the call go to voicemail, but as it came out of my inner pocket, I saw my sister’s name on the screen and frowned. Emery never called at this hour. With three young boys and our father to take care of, she was usually wiped out before seven p.m.

“I have to take this. I’ll be back.” I ignored the pouting girl who immediately picked up her drink again.

Since there was no way I’d be able to hear my sister inside, I strode toward the back exit, smoothly leaving through a private door to a quiet balcony on the VIP level. Membership had its privileges. Emery had hung up, but I called her back, worry nagging at me. She hadn’t been calling to talk about the weather.

When she answered, I skipped the pleasantries. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“No, Hawk. It’s not,” she said, frustration dripping from her tone. “I’m at the hospital with Dad. Again. He’s not doing well.”

I sighed, but before I could respond, she spoke again, her tone urgent and her words clipped, like she knew she needed to get it all out before I could come up with an excuse to get off the phone with her. “The doctor says his Parkinson’s is progressing. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Emery. I do, but?—”

“No. That’s the thing. I don’t think you really do understand. He’s at the point now where I’m caring for him full-time and trying to run his business. Plus, he’s determined to still be out on the tug every day. I can’t do it all alone anymore, Hawk.” She paused, and I could picture her sitting at her kitchen table, knuckles white as she gripped the phone, brow furrowed in desperation. “I need your help.”

“I already told you I’d handle it.” I moved over to the glass and metal railing around the balcony and gripped it tight, looking out over the thousands of twinkling lights belonging to the city I now called home. “My assistant got him into a really nice home that?—”

“No,” she said again, loudly and insistently this time. “You need to come home. Come back to Portsmouth yourself and help me close down the family business and find full-time care for Dad. We’re not just sticking him into a home and forgetting about him.”

“This isn’t just any home, though,” I argued. “I’m telling you, Emery. This place is amazing. Their facilities are state of the art, their care is top notch, and I’ll pay for it all. It won’t cost you a dime.”

“Well, if it won’t cost me a dime,” she said dryly, but I knew she was being sarcastic. A heavy exhale filled the line and I heard her pull in another deep breath. “I know you can afford a place like that, and it does sound amazing, but this is our father . He never wanted to be in a home. You know as well as I do that if we send him there, we might as well be signing his death warrant. We can do better.”

I groaned. She wasn’t wrong.

All the money in the world couldn’t help me buy my way out of the fact that our father’s health was deteriorating and that he would never—even in a million years—willingly agree to move into the home I had lined up for him.

“Thanksgiving is coming up,” Emery said, her voice softer this time. “You haven’t been home in three years. Just come back to Portsmouth for the holidays, please?”

Fuck.

I couldn’t pay my way out of that one either.

For the last three years, Emery had been handling all of this on her own while also raising her twin seven-year-olds and a five-year-old as a single mom. It wasn’t fair, but especially not since she was now begging me to come home.

In the past, she’d never even asked, which meant things were likely even worse than she was making them sound. Relenting wasn’t really in my nature, but deep down inside, I’d known this was coming.

“Thanksgiving. Yep.” I dragged my free hand through my hair and bowed my head. “I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded suddenly tight, and I heard her swallow as she tried to keep herself together. “I really hope you can make a plan, big brother. I’ll see you soon. Be good, okay?”

With that, she hung up and I held the phone in my hand for a few moments, back to staring out at all those twinkling lights while the soundproofing in the building behind me dampened the music in the club to a dull oomph-oomph-oomph .

God, what am I even doing here?

Deciding on the spot to go home, I headed back inside and wound my way through the crowd until I reached my model. The striking blonde shot me a coy smile when she saw me coming, but her face fell when I dropped a wad of cash on the table instead of sitting back down.

“Get yourself an Uber,” I said. “I’ve got to go. See you around.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she blinked hard, clearly disappointed as she shook her head at me. “See me around? Nooooo. We were having fun.”

We weren’t.

I shrugged. “All good things have to come to an end. Thank you for agreeing to come out with me. We’ll talk.”

Giving her a curt nod, I spun around and started toward the exit, surprised when I heard her whiny voice speak up behind me. “One more drink? I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

I turned my head to glance at her over my shoulder. My nose wrinkled when I realized she was tripping over her own feet trying to keep up with me. Sighing as I slowed down, I held out an arm and helped the inebriated woman stay upright as I led her out of the club.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I said, trying to sound genuine. “Something came up. I’ll make sure you get home safe, though.”

She whined a bit more as we emerged onto the packed sidewalk, but I really just wasn’t interested in a one-night stand after that call with my sister. The model kept clawing at me though, not letting up even after I released her arm now that we were on the sidewalk outside the club.

Eventually, I flagged down a cab and turned to face her, my expression probably harder and colder than it needed to be. “Go home, honey. You’re drunk. This nice man will take you there.”

Her head whipped back as if I’d slapped her and she tried one more pout. I smiled and opened the taxi door. She dropped into the car, and after waiting for her to give her address to the driver, I handed him enough cash to get her home and then some.

“Make sure she gets there safe, okay?” I muttered before double-tapping the roof of his vehicle and striding away.

“Call me!” Darla said as the car pulled away.

Once I finally got to my house, a sprawling water-side property with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up to the beach, I headed directly onto the deck outside. Waves lapped the shore less than a hundred feet away and a gentle breeze blew off the water, cooling the muggy night. I poured myself a drink from my private beach bar.

Taking a seat at the counter, I sipped my whiskey, my mind a million miles away as I contemplated the options for my immediate future. Emery needed me to go back to New Hampshire, and since she was my little sister, I was biologically programmed to feel protective of her. When she needed help, my genetics insisted that I go running.

On the other hand, my father and I had fallen out of touch over the past five years or so. In my defense, my business was booming and I’d been busy, but if he really wasn’t doing well, it was probably time I mend those bridges.

While I still could.

Sighing, I took my tumbler as well as the bottle of whiskey and strode back inside my house, not stopping until I reached my den. Emery had made me some photo albums over the years, and while I rarely even remembered I had them, I had the sudden urge to pull them out.

It took me a minute to remember where I’d stashed them, but then I sat down on my ass on the tiled floor and drank as I opened the first one. Flipping through it, I paused at a picture of myself as a kid, grinning up at the camera with my arm around a blonde, gray-eyed little girl with freckles and a smudge of dirt on her face.

I smiled an increasingly rare, real smile I couldn’t fight even if I’d wanted to. Shit, I haven’t even thought about Sutton Ashbury in years.

Growing up on the same street as her had been a definite highlight of my childhood. Once upon a time, she’d been the person I was closest to in the world. I bent my head closer to the picture, remembering the day it’d been taken.

Sutton and I had snuck onto my dad’s tugboat and we’d decided to play house on it. We were about seven years old, but we’d pretended it was our castle. I hadn’t really liked the game much, but I’d played since it had made her so damn excited.

She’d done the same thing for me often, so it’d only been right to indulge her. I wonder where she is now? Overseas, I think.

Last I’d heard, she was married with a kid, living in Scotland or maybe somewhere else in the UK, but she’d been happy. I traced the outline of her face with my thumb as I swigged my drink. Shaking my head, I turned the page. The thought of her married and living halfway across the damn world twisted something in my gut, and I took another swig of my drink before I just downed the whole thing and slammed the album shut.

My gut has no fucking right to feel anything about Sutton Ashbury. Occasionally, I still hated myself for the way things had gone down back then, but it wasn’t like I could do anything to change it now. Don’t even know if I would, even if I could.

Getting up, I refilled my glass again and blew out a deep breath, wondering if Emery knew what she was asking by begging me to go back there. As I sat down in front of my laptop, I logged into my account, debating whether to book the damn flight ticket for Thanksgiving.

In the end, by the time I closed my laptop for the night, I still wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision. There was nothing left for me in Portsmouth—except my family. I’d fought tooth and nail to get out of there back in the day. Willingly returning just wasn’t something I thought I’d ever do. Yet, Emery needed me, and I couldn’t ignore that either.

It felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and that wasn’t a position I’d been in for a very, very long time. If I had my way, I wouldn’t have been in it now, but I supposed nobody could always get what they wanted—not even those of us who were incredibly used to things being that way.

I sighed and chuckled to myself, thinking how desperate I had been earlier for a change of pace. Heading back to New Hampshire would give me that and more.

Be careful what you wish for.