Stories in the series (in order):
The Lady for a Lady
No Easy Way
Sleeping Beauties
An Act of Betrayal
The Devil You Know
Demons
The Riddle of the Night
Hawke picked up a slice of tomato and slipped it into his mouth. He chewed it slowly, contemplating what to say to Caitlin as he chewed. When the tomato was mush, he swallowed.
"You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Hawke?" Caitlin asked as she stared at him.
"I know you want me to finish the letter, Cait, but I can't do that. I can't do that to me or to us." Hawke turned away from the kitchen and went to the fireplace. He slid the fire poker between two logs and moved one of them. Ash and sparks flew up the chimney in retaliation and the log rolled over and caught fire.
A hand touched his shoulder with a gentle touch and Hawke turned around. He still carried the fire poker in his hand. He hung it up with the rest of the tools and then sat down on the couch. "All those letters I wrote are to people who have died, except Saint John, and he's been gone so long I don't know anymore. When we . . . when I thought you were dead, I wrote the letter to get my feelings out for you." He looked up at her and smiled. "That day I saw you in Duveaux's house I knew it wasn't another hallucination. I knew you were alive. You were flesh and bone, cloth and makeup. You were alive." He let out a nervous laugh. "If I finish that letter, what happens to you then?"
Caitlin sat down beside him and slipped her hands in between his elbow and chest so she could hug herself to him and then she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not going to disappear like Saint John. I'm not going to die like Gabrielle. I'm alive." She removed herself from his body and he felt cold at the absence. "I need you to finish the letter because I need to hear the words from your lips. I think I know what you were going to say, but I need to hear it from you."
She put her hands on both sides of his face and kissed his lips. Hawke kissed her back and found himself wrapping his arms around her waist pulling her toward his body.
She broke the kiss and he groaned.
"As nice as it was, a kiss won't work on me, Caitlin." He said, afterward.
"You think. . ." She stopped her sentence and stood to her feet. His jacket was strewn on the couch. She slipped into it and pushed the sleeves up close to her elbows. "If you think that I was using a kiss to get you to finish the letter, then you don't know me at all. Who knows, maybe that's for the best," Caitlin found her purse on the kitchen counter. She looped it over her shoulder and grabbed his car keys off the hook. "If all you want is a best friend, then I will walk out of this cabin the best friend you've ever had. But, if you want more, then say so, Hawke, and I will be more for you."
Hawke didn't answer her. He was too stunned at seeing her temper and the fact that she was wearing his jacket and carrying his car keys.
"Fine. I guess I have my answer. I'll leave the Jeep at the hangar and have Chris come and get you in the morning."
She stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her. A small earthquake shook the living room floor.