New Beginning

By:  Jen (Bama)

Hey, everyone! Here's my latest fic, A New Beginning. It's a Gwank story. I hope you like it! It's rated PG-13 for content. As always, feedback is cherished! Thanks!

Author's Note: Just for reference, my Gwen is Natalie Zea, and my Hank is Dalton James. :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to JER, NBC, and Passions. I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

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“What can I get for you, sweets?”

Surprised, Gwen Hotchkiss jumped, then raised her gaze from the scarred surface of the bar and glanced at the bartender. “Scotch,” she replied with a grimace. “On the rocks, please.”

He quirked an eyebrow and sent her a flirtatious smile. “I would have figured you for the martini type,” he confided with a wink. “You look pretty high-class to me.”

Gwen sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. “It’s been a rough day, all right?” she said sharply. “I’m really not in the mood for a conversation. Just bring me my drink.”

After the bartender turned away, Gwen took a quick survey of the dark, smoky interior of Jack’s Pool Hall and rubbed her throbbing temples. Rough, she thought sarcastically, didn’t even come close to describing what she had been through, knowing that today was the day Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald would become the wife of Ethan Winthrop, formerly Crane, the man Gwen had loved for most of her life.

Gwen smiled wanly at the bartender as he set her drink down in front of her, then took a long sip before placing it back on the bar.

She had wanted to be at the wedding, at least to show support for her friend Sheridan, who was also getting married today, to Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald, Theresa’s brother. She’d even gone so far as to slip into the silver dress she had bought for the occasion. But once she slid behind the wheel of her car, Gwen had found herself driving in the opposite direction of St. Margaret Mary’s Church, where the nuptials were to take place. Instead, she’d wound up here at Jack’s, sitting at the end of the bar, lost in her own morose thoughts.

She couldn’t remember how long she’d been sitting there before the bartender spoke to her—it could have been minutes or hours. Gwen didn’t really care. It wasn’t that she was still in love with Ethan. Lord knew, after the way he treated her, dumping her on the eve of their wedding, and then proposing to his mistress right in front of her at Midnight Mass, all of her love for him evaporated. She just hadn’t known it at the time…and wasted precious months of her life trying to win him back. Now she wouldn’t take him back if he were the last man on the planet.

No, what really galled her, Gwen admitted to herself, was the fact that Theresa had won. Theresa had wormed her way into Gwen’s life, and had stolen Ethan from right under her nose, all while pretending her motives were completely pure. Now all of her schemes had paid off; she was marrying Ethan.

Just then, a sudden crash of thunder boomed in the distance, pulling Gwen from her thoughts. Taking another sip of her Scotch, she once again glanced around the room, and nearly choked when her eyes landed on the man standing in the doorway.

Apparently, he saw her too, because he started across the room toward her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a smirk as he settled himself onto the barstool next to her. “What are you all dolled up for?”

“Hank!” Gwen exclaimed, noticing his loosened bow tie and rumpled dress shirt. “What are you doing here? I thought you were Luis’s best man. Shouldn’t you be at the church?”

Hank shrugged and, catching the bartender’s eye, ordered a drink. “The weddings are over,” he replied. “Harmony has two new newlywed couples.”

Gwen nodded. “That’s wonderful,” she muttered, staring into her glass.

“So what are you doing here tonight, Gwen?” Hank repeated, turning his dark-eyed gaze on her. “I never would have pictured you in a place like this. And why are you dressed up?”

“I was planning to go to the wedding,” she confessed quietly. “To be there for Sheridan. But then I realized I couldn’t be there to watch Ethan and Theresa get married…and somehow I wound up here.”

Hank nodded, noticing again how beautiful Gwen looked in the darkened room, her auburn hair piled on top of her head, her blue eyes downcast, wearing the most amazing silver dress he had ever seen. When he’d first entered Jack’s and seen her sitting by herself in the corner, she’d nearly taken his breath away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’ve got two ears to listen with and two shoulders to cry on, if you need them.”

Sighing, Gwen shook her head. “No, Hank, that’s ok,” she replied. “I’m tired of thinking about them. They’re married now, and that’s the end of it.”

“You don’t still love him, do you? Because let me tell you, Gwen, he doesn’t deserve your love. And you deserve someone who will love you with his whole heart.”

Gwen felt her cheeks flush at his kind words. “Thank you, Hank,” she whispered. “And, no, I’m not still in love with Ethan.”

At that moment, another clap of thunder sounded, this time closer, followed by a flash of lightning, which illuminated the room and allowed Gwen a few seconds to study Hank. He really was quite handsome, she admitted to herself. Deep, dark eyes framed by long lashes, floppy brown hair that fell over his forehead, and the cutest little under-eye freckle. For a second or two, Gwen imagined what it would feel like to kiss that freckle, then trail her lips down his cheek until she reached his mouth. Then, realizing what she was thinking, she flushed again.

The second roll of thunder was followed by the sound of raindrops pelting the ceiling and windowpanes. Immediately, the place began to clear out, until only Gwen and Hank, as well as two or three other patrons, remained.

A few moments later, an older gentleman with thinning hair dropped a few coins into the jukebox, and Faith Hill’s beautiful ballad, “Breathe” began to play. Gwen sighed and closed her eyes dreamily, and the image made Hank’s mouth go dry.

“I love this song,” Gwen said quietly, opening her eyes again. “She has such a powerful voice, and the lyrics are just beautiful.”

Hank shifted on his stool. “Well, Miss Hotchkiss,” he said with a grin, extending his hand, “would you like to dance?”

Gwen’s mouth curved up into a beaming smile. “I would love to,” she replied as she slipped her hand into his and followed him onto the makeshift dance floor.

Coming to a stop, Hank slid his arm around Gwen’s small waist and gathered her closer, relishing the feel of her curves coming into contact with his body. Why had he never noticed this effect she had on him? he wondered, settling his hips against Gwen’s and absently stroking the expanse of skin left exposed by her back-less dress. Gently, he began to sway back and forth, overwhelmed at what her peach-scented skin was doing to his senses.

Like Hank, Gwen was also enjoying the sensations created by their sensual slow dance. Every movement caused their bodies to brush against each other, and the feel of his fingers on her bare back was enough to send shivers up and down her spine. Hesitantly she moved her hands from the back of his neck to his powerful shoulders, feeling the strength in the coiled muscles. Sliding them further down his chest, Gwen could feel the rapid beat of his heart, and it sent her own fluttering even more.

After the song was over, Hank reluctantly let go of her, and Gwen pulled back, putting some much-needed space between their bodies.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” Hank whispered, “but I like it. I haven’t experienced anything like this in so long, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.”

“I don’t understand it, either,” Gwen admitted. “I mean, we barely know each other at all.”

“I want to kiss you,” he replied. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you, Gwen. Are you sure you have no feelings left for Ethan?”

Gwen smiled and moved closer, linking her arms loosely around Hank’s neck. “I’m sure,” she said softly. Then, with her blue eyes shining, she began tugging his head down. “And I want to kiss you, too.”

In the next instant, Hank’s head lowered and he captured her lips with his. Gwen tightened her arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth, pressing her body close and feeling the hard muscles of his chest against her sensitive breasts. All rational thought flew right out of her head as she found herself kissing him with all the passion she had stored. Nothing existed outside the fusion of their lips and bodies.

Long minutes later, Hank finally lifted his lips, breathless. Gwen opened her eyes, quite out of breath herself and feeling very warm all of a sudden. The look that passed between them was hot enough to melt steel, and it sent her nerve endings skittering in awareness. Her heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of her chest.

“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered over the staccato beat of the rain.

Hank’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

Gwen nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she answered with a smile. “Hank, you made me feel more alive in your arms than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Hank grinned in return and kissed her once more, hungrily. When he drew back the second time, his dark eyes were smoky and dangerous with desire. “Let’s go,” he agreed. Taking her by the hand and throwing his tux jacket over her shoulders, he led her out into the parking lot.

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Half an hour later, Hank unlocked the door to his room at Grace’s Bed and Breakfast, motioning for Gwen to precede him into the room. Once inside, he locked the door and flipped on the bedside lamp.

Gwen stood a couple feet in front of him, still wearing his tuxedo jacket and her silver dress. Her auburn hair was damp with rain, and her eyes looked huge in the dim light.

“You are so beautiful,” Hank whispered, coming to stand in front of her and helping her out of the jacket. Tossing it on the floor, he bent down and kissed Gwen’s lips again, relishing the small sounds she made in the back of her throat.

Pulling back, he rained kisses over her cheek and down her neck, and with a moan, Gwen arched her throat, giving him better access to her tender skin. Closing her eyes, she anchored her hands in his hair, feeling the silky strands slide through her fingers.

“This is crazy,” she said, sighing with pleasure as Hank’s exploration sent shivers all over her body.

He groaned in agreement, then reached up and began to pull the pins out of her hair, letting the auburn tresses rain over his hands and cascade down her back. “We all deserve to go a little crazy every now and then,” he declared, placing kisses on her creamy, tanned shoulders and the upper swells of her breasts.

Reaching around her, he grasped the zipper of her dress and pulled down, his jaw nearly hitting the ground as he watched the silver material slid down Gwen’s body and pooled at her feet. Stepping out of it, she kicked it to the side, then let her hands wander to his waist, impatiently yanking his dress shirt from the slacks.

Finally, once she had undone all the little black buttons, Gwen tugged the shirt from Hank’s shoulders and that magnificent chest. Unable to wait any longer, she leaned forward and kissed him again, boldly, holding nothing back.

Immediately, Hank swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, lowering himself on top of her. Once there, he began to make her shiver and moan in his embrace, loving her with everything he had in him, until neither of them could take it any more.

Afterward, Hank watched as Gwen snuggled into her pillow, and felt a wave of warmth wash over him. Gathering her close, he chuckled in surprise as she leaned over and kissed his cheek, right where his freckle was. “What was that for?”

Gwen laughed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I just remembered thinking about what it would be like to kiss your freckle,” she answered with a shrug.

“You like my freckle?”

Gwen nodded and grinned. Then she tilted her head and stared up at him for several long seconds, her blue eyes probing his darker ones. “This wasn’t just a one-night-stand, was it, Hank?” she asked uncertainly.

“I hope not,” he exclaimed, running his fingers through her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. “I think we could have something here, Gwen. I want to see where it goes.”

With a sigh of relief, Gwen propped herself up on one elbow and leaned her face close to his. “I sure do like the way you think, Bennett,” she whispered against his lips, then giving him no time to answer, covered his mouth with hers.

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What do you think? Feedback, please!

~~Jen