Just Chance Page 5

  “Sounds good, man,” Hawk said, grinning. “We can be bored here together for a couple of days, at least.”

  “It can’t be that bad, can it? We’ll ride horses or something.”

  Hawk had to laugh at the mental image of the big linebacker on horseback, and even though Hawk was in no condition to be on horseback anytime soon, it was a nice thought. Funny as hell, but nice.

  He hung up the phone, still laughing, then plucked the card from the flower arrangement next to him, turning it over to find the phone number. Frankie’s face immediately sprang to mind.

  It would be nice to see that smile again. Those eyes. That cute little ass.

  Right.

  So.

  There was really only one thing left to do.

  He picked up the phone again and dialed the number for Chance to Bloom, hoping that Frankie had an open mind and a sense of adventure.

  God knows that if he said yes, he’d need both.

  But even with all the uncertainty, Hawk felt good. He was smiling. This could really work. Better yet, it could be fun.

  Now, he just had to get Frankie on his team.

  Chapter 4

  Frankie

  Frankie nibbled at his lip as he sat in the hospital parking lot, still gripping the steering wheel of his car even though he’d turned the engine off minutes ago. Twenty minutes ago, he’d raced out of the flower shop with his heart racing, loaded down with a gorgeous arrangement that he and Ethan had quickly put together after Jack told him they’d received another order for the hospital.

  Another order for Hawk.

  Except this time, it hadn’t been Mrs. Hawkins placing the order for her son. This time, the call had come from the hospital.

  From Hawk himself.

  A frisson of excitement ran up Frankie’s spine at the thought. He didn’t know why Hawk had ordered more flowers, or why he’d insisted that Frankie deliver them…

  But all signs pointed to something exciting.

  Frankie had been all but bouncing out of his seat on the drive back to the hospital, retracing the familiar route for the second time in as many days. He’d needed precisely zero prodding to get out the door and across town with Hawk’s flowers. In fact, even if Hawk hadn’t requested that he be the one to deliver them, he might have done bodily harm to anyone who’d tried to stop him from making the delivery.

  Frankie grinned, aware he was being ridiculous and not giving a damn. After all, he did all the deliveries for Chance to Bloom.

  Now that he was finally at the hospital, though… well, he was still excited. Still really excited. But knowing that he was actually going to be talking to Hawk again, and not just coincidentally this time?

  Yeah, it was enough to make him stop and wonder what, exactly, Hawk did have in mind.

  It was enough to make him nervous. In, of course, an excited way.

  Frankie gathered up the bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat and took a deep breath. Just yesterday, he’d all but given up on the very short-lived dream that Hawk might’ve been interested in more than just flowers and a little bit of conversation.

  But now—especially now that he knew Hawk was actually gay—that nearly-dead dream had somehow managed to elbow its way back to the front of Frankie’s mind.

  What if Hawk really was interested in something more? And if so… what?

  Frankie wasn’t necessarily opposed to the occasional hook-up, as rare as they might be for him in Bridgewater, but he’d never even met a famous person until Hawk, let alone considered sleeping with one. Would it be the same? Would there be security around? Paparazzi?

  Frankie took another deep breath, suddenly aware that he was in danger of hyperventilating if he kept thinking of all the potential “what-ifs” and didn’t get the hell out of his suddenly too-small, too-hot car.

  No.

  He wasn’t going to hyperventilate, because he was done overthinking this situation.

  Hawk probably didn’t want to hook up, anyway. That fantasy was almost certainly the apparently-not-dead-yet dream still trying to take hold. Hawk might just be… bored. And maybe he thought Frankie was funny or ridiculous or amusing the day before, and he just wanted some more of that sort of entertainment.

  That was probably it, right?

  Hawk almost definitely didn’t want to see Frankie naked.

  Probably.

  Maybe.

  And if he did? Well, that would be the score of a lifetime, wouldn’t it?

  But God, would Frankie even be okay with that? Would he be okay with having a hot, famous, nice guy who’s attention made him feel like the center of the universe turn flower delivery into a booty call?

  Frankie snorted to himself as he opened the car door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. Does Tom Daley look good in a speedo? Of course he’d be okay with that.

  If that was what Hawk wanted.

  Which it wasn’t… probably.

  He pulled the Atlanta Falcons hat he was wearing—a last-minute loan from Jack, even though Frankie was pretty sure it qualified as Way Too Much—low on his head and did his best to walk-quickly-without-actually-running through the herd of paparazzi that had grown in size from the day before. Frankie had learned then that if he didn’t make eye contact with any of them, they’d eventually let him through without too much of a fuss.

  Still, it was impossible not to hear the buzz that went through the crowd as he approached.

  “Is that him?”

  “Hawk Hawkins’ secret boyfriend?”

  Frankie kept his head down and hoped for the best as the group of photographers reluctantly parted for him. They were all starting to shout questions that seemed completely ridiculous to him—at least outside his own wishful thinking.

  Really? Were they that desperate for news? Of course he wasn’t Hawk’s secret boyfriend.

  Luckily, he didn’t have to dodge their questions—or their insistent, grabby hands and prodding microphones—for very long. Just when it was starting to feel a bit much, a pair of giant hands attached to an equally giant man dressed in black suddenly plucked him up, nearly sweeping him off his feet and straight through the revolving door.

  “Are you Frankie Moretti?” The giant ninja asked once they were inside, looking down at Frankie through the mirrored lenses of his black sunglasses.

  Frankie could see his reflection, looking suddenly very small and very confused as they stood in the hospital lobby. “Y-yes, um, sir. That’s me.”

  The giant gave a curt nod to another man guarding the elevators who could’ve been a near-identical twin. Where did they even find security guards—or bodyguards or… whatever—that big? They sure didn’t grow them like that in Bridgewater.

  “Mr. Hawkins is expecting you,” Giant Number One rumbled. “Third floor. Go straight there.”

  The order made Frankie grin for the first time since stepping out of his car. He couldn’t help it. Just the mention of Hawk’s name—plus the news that he’d been expecting Frankie—was enough to send a jolt of excitement straight through Frankie’s body. If Frankie hadn’t been worried that the giant might tackle him, he would’ve been happy to run to the elevator—or even up the stairs, if necessary—just to be in the same room with Hawk again.

  Even if Hawk hadn’t been famous, there was no denying that just being around him—just thinking about him—made Frankie’s heart beat faster. The guy was undeniably hot… and nice… and just so magnetic, that Frankie hadn’t been able to get him off his mind or out of his thoughts since they’d met.

  And now, as he waited for the elevator to carry him up to Hawk’s room for the second time in as many days, he couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, would happen next.

  He grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the gleaming white corridor that would lead him to Hawk, just like a rainbow to a pot of gold. Whatever Hawk had in mind—whatever he was expecting—was sure to be more interesting and exciting than anything else Frankie would’ve normally h
ad going on. Hot football star aside, the excitement and adventure alone would have been enough to keep Frankie coming back for more. Just thinking about it made Frankie’s breath hitch in his throat, and when he finally got to the end of the hallway and another hulking bodyguard—God, how many were there?—waved him into the room, the grin on Frankie’s face only got wider.

  Hawk was even more gorgeous than he remembered, and he was smiling.

  At Frankie.

  “Hey, you came back,” Hawk said, sounding genuinely happy and… even a little surprised. His smile widened, too, mirroring the happiness that Frankie was feeling, and he added,“I like your hat.”

  Frankie resisted the urge to pull the hat off his head—or maybe pull it down to completely cover his face. Hawk’s eyes were twinkling, and Frankie had known it would be too much.

  Whatever, though.

  Teasing aside, Hawk didn’t look like he minded. He actually seemed more interested in the fact that Frankie had made the trip back to see him.

  “Thanks,” Frankie managed, feeling his face heat up as he tightened his grip on the bouquet to avoid fussing with The Hat. “But you, um, asked for me to come, didn’t you? I mean, I guess you probably did, since The Hulk outside let me in without frisking me or whatever, but—” Frankie swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks flare even hotter as he realized he’d been having a conversation all by himself. Still, he couldn’t resist checking for sure… “But, um, you did ask for me, right?”

  “I did.” Hawk laughed, the low, rich sound filling the room. “But I didn’t know if you’d actually do it. If you’d come, I mean.” He cleared his throat, his cheeks going suddenly pink. “If you’d come back. Here. Anyway… I’m glad you did.”

  Had Hawk Hawkins just made a sexual innuendo? About Frankie?

  Frankie’s mouth went dry at the thought. But before he could stop and consider the significance of that possible development, he was distracted by the fact that Hawk had definitely said he was happy Frankie had come back.

  “You’re glad?” Frankie repeated, just in case his mind was playing some kind of cruel trick on him. Just in case it was all some kind of weird, exciting, adrenaline-fueled daydream. But then, before Hawk could either confirm or deny, Frankie’s mouth ran away with him again. “I mean, I’m glad, too. I thought maybe yesterday we, um, had a good conversation. But…” he swallowed hard. Stop rambling. God. “Can I ask why? Why you asked for me to come here, I mean.”

  Hawk’s eyes sparkled as he listened to Frankie talk, and Frankie was very aware that Hawk’s eyes were on him the entire time, taking in everything from his head to his toes.

  His hands tightened on the bouquet he’d brought as it occurred to him again that Hawk—a guy who could pick up the phone and talk to just about anyone on the planet—seemed genuinely interested in what Frankie had to say.

  Interested in Frankie.

  Hawk shrugged, still smiling as he answered Frankie’s question. “I thought maybe some more flowers would be nice.”

  Oh.

  Right.

  The flowers.

  Frankie held them out to Hawk and slowly stepped forward to close the distance between the two of them, determined not to let the news get him down. Of course Hawk hadn’t really been interested in anything else. Frankie almost laughed out loud at how crazy that would’ve been.

  But then Frankie did laugh. Because whatever. Hawk Hawkins might not actually be interested in anything but the flowers Frankie had brought, but it would still make a really good story when he got back to the shop and told Ethan and Jack. And Frankie had helped to make that super-interesting flower arrangement, so… there was that.

  Still, he would’ve been lying to himself if he’d tried to deny the tiny pang of disappointment he’d felt when Hawk had thrown that bucket of cold water on Frankie’s wild and crazy dreams.

  “Something funny?” Hawk quirked an eyebrow as he took the bouquet from Frankie and pulled it closer to his face. “This is really nice, by the way. They smell amazing.”

  Frankie wasn’t sure how to answer either the question or the compliment, or which one was making him smile more. Disappointment aside, he was still on the verge of laughing, just from how weird the situation was.

  Were all celebrities so good at sending mixed signals, or was that just a sexy football player thing? Frankie really had no way of knowing. But that wasn’t what he needed to focus on, anyway. Hawk had said… something.

  Focus, Frankie.

  Okay.

  O-kay.

  There had been a question and a compliment that Frankie still hadn’t responded to.

  Compliment first. “Thanks,” Frankie’s smile got even wider. “I was, um, thinking of what you might like when I helped put the arrangement together.”

  Which maybe sounded weird, given that they’d only just met, but Frankie had thought of it. Of putting together something that would have the same feel as the few minutes they’d spent together the day before. Of the way Hawk was so friendly, but also sort of forceful. In the confident way, not a dickish way. Nice, but also sexy. Really sexy. And—

  “You put this together yourself?” Hawk asked, jerking Frankie’s attention back to the present. Hawk looked back down at the flowers in his hands with a different expression—something more thoughtful than before. He didn’t wait for Frankie to answer before he continued. “You nailed it. I’m not sure what some of them are, but they’re all my new favorites.”

  Frankie’s heart did a slow roll in his chest, and he swayed on his feet a little as the feeling hit him.

  “I mean, my friend helped. But, um, it was my idea for peonies?” Frankie tried to concentrate on his thoughts—on anything besides the sweet expression on Hawk’s face. “They’re one of my favorites.”

  Hawk grinned at him again and Frankie’s heart did that floaty-rolling thing again. If Hawk wasn’t flirting, he was sure doing an amazing imitation of it—which made Frankie remember the other thing he’d meant to respond to.

  The question about what Frankie had been laughing at—about the way he’d felt as though he’d been on an emotional roller coaster for the past twenty-four hours, with no end in sight.

  And since there was no way to subtly find out if Hawk was actually flirting—and even if there was, Frankie had never really had the patience for subtlety—it would be best to just… ask him.

  Besides, what did Frankie have to lose?

  And when was the next time he was likely to find himself alone with a celebrity?

  He might as well just take his chances and see what happened. It could end up being his lucky day.

  “So, what I was laughing at… before…” Frankie started, then paused.

  Maybe it wasn’t such an easy question to ask, after all. What if he managed, and it turned out to be his most embarrassing day, instead of his lucky one? His most embarrassing day… ever?

  “Yeah?” Hawk looked up from the flowers and nodded, as if encouraging Frankie to keep talking. When Frankie didn’t right away, Hawk’s lip quirked up in a much-too-sexy little half-smile, and he added, “I was wondering if you were gonna let me in on the joke.”

  Frankie swallowed.

  Hawk was waiting on him to actually say something. Did he think having Frankie there was as weird as Frankie did? Was this just a normal day for him?

  There really was only one way to find out.

  “Well, the funny thing is,” Frankie began, then felt his cheeks instantly go hot again as a nervous laugh escaped his throat. “That I think you might be the one having a joke? Like… I’m really flattered that you had me come back here, and really happy that you like the flowers I put together…” And you look so hot even in that stupid hospital gown that I kind of want to reach out and touch you… “But why? I just don’t get it.”

  Okay, so that hadn’t been as clearcut as “are you actually flirting with me?”—but it had been as close as Frankie could bring himself to get.

  Hawk looked thoughtful and cocked hi
s head to the side, and for a moment Frankie wondered if he was going to say that it had all just been some kind of strange joke.

  Or tell Frankie that he was actually in the middle of a bizarre dream.

  Or break the news that Frankie had been body-snatched by aliens and his real, boring, normal life was being lived by the real, boring, normal Frankie, back at Chance to Bloom, while he—alien-body-double-Frankie—got to enjoy this much more exciting, much more interesting version of life with his brand-new celebrity crush.

  Or, if not that—because really, what were the chances?—maybe Hawk would say something that would explain the way Frankie’s stomach and heart had been tied in knots for the entire day. Well, for the entire time since he’d met Hawk, really.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Hawk said, finally, repeating the sentiment he’d shared when Frankie had first walked into the room. “But there’s no joke. Just a proposition.”

  Of all the things Frankie had been preparing himself for—humor, ridicule, body snatchers—a proposition was literally the last thing he would’ve thought of. He could feel his eyes go wide and his mouth open, but no sound came out.

  In Frankie’s mind, there were only two kinds of propositions a man might make—one for sex and one for marriage—and as ridiculous as it sounded, he was really, really afraid that he’d say yes to either one if Hawk asked.

  Hawk seemed to be waiting for a response, and Frankie’s mouth was still doing the opening-and-closing-but-still-no-sound thing, so Frankie finally nodded excitedly and hoped that Hawk would get the message to spill some more details.

  “So,” Hawk finally—finally—continued, “I thought… if you’d be up to considering it… that once you got here with the flowers, we could talk about this business proposition.”

  “Wait, what?” Frankie blinked, then slapped his hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

  Because right. A business proposition. The third kind of proposition that Frankie’s brain had conveniently and embarrassingly failed to think of.