Interesting.

I hit the bottom of the stairs and could delay no longer.

My eyes turned to him.

He was in the kitchen, bare-chested, coffee mug held aloft, eyes on me.

And in that instant, it hit me.

The pros outweighed the cons. I wasn’t uncertain anymore. I was certain… very certain.

He could be bossy and a lot of what he did freaked me out or pissed me off but when he was sweet, generous, sexy and open it was better than my best daydream.

By far.

And I was good at daydreams, I’d spent a lot of time doing it, I made up the best daydreams ever.

So for reality to surpass that, certainty slotted in and when it did, it held firm.

I rounded the horseshoe and saw he was wearing track pants, black with dark gray stripes down the sides, bare feet.

Hot.

I went to him, right to him and didn’t stop until my body hit his, my arms slid around his waist and I pressed my face in the skin of his chest.

There I mumbled, “Mornin’, baby.”

One of his arms glided around me, pulled me closer and he said into the top of my hair, “Mornin’, Sweet Pea. You sleep okay?”

I turned my head to press my cheek to his chest as I nodded.

“Good,” he murmured, giving me a squeeze.

I squeezed him back.

“Coffee?” he asked and I nodded against his chest again. “How do you take it?”

I slid my cheek against his warm skin as I tilted my head back to look at him, my brows going up when my eyes hit his black ones. “You don’t know?”

His mouth twitched. “No.”

“Cream, half a sugar.”

His brows went up this time. “Half a sugar?”

“I save my sugar for when I eat it in cookie dough.”

He chuckled, his arm tightening for a second as he did then he kept looking down at me and I watched his eyes get lazy. I’d never seen that, his eyes getting lazy. It was sensational.

Then he bent his head, touched his lips to mine and let me go.

He moved to the coffeepot at the counter by the wall and I moved to the horseshoe bar and leaned against it.

“I used a toothbrush,” I informed him.

“Good,” he replied, grabbing a mug from some shelves that were fixed to the brick where there was a bunch of shiny, midnight blue stoneware, stainless steel utensils hanging from hooks off the bottom shelves, gleaming pots and pans on the top.

Guess he didn’t need me to buy him a new toothbrush and it also appeared from the near new look of his eating and cooking supplies, he didn’t cook or eat much at his lair.

“Do you move the furniture back and have football matches on Saturdays with your commandos?” I asked the brown skin over defined muscle of his back as he poured my coffee.

“No,” he answered but I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Rugby?” I went on.

He twisted to the fridge and opened it repeating, “No.”

“Paintball?”

He took out the milk, closed the fridge and looked over his shoulder at me, grinning. “No.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled.

He finished my coffee and brought it to me then rested a hip against the counter, his body facing mine, our bodies touching.

I took a sip from my coffee as he did the same with his.

He made good coffee.

“You make good coffee,” I shared.

He had no response.

I tilted my head back to look at him. “And you’re tidy.”

His brows drew together. “I’m tidy?”

“Your bathroom is clean, there isn’t a tangle of cargos and skintight shirts all over the floor of your bed platform and your stockpiles of guns and ammo have obviously been cleared away.”

The dimples popped out.

Then he replied, “Disordered house, disordered mind, disordered life, babe.”

This was true. I knew it because Dad had taught me that and it was also a principle I lived by which was why my living room drove me batty.

“I can’t picture you cleaning,” I shared.

“I don’t. Janine does it.”

“Janine?”

“Takes care of this place, takes care of base. Janine’s in charge of order so I can focus on other shit.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled.

He employed a lot of people. He drove a top of the line Camaro. He installed elaborate security systems. He could afford expensive, designer shoes. He could heat a cavernous warehouse to the point he could walk around barefoot and bare-chested and I was comfortable in only his shirt and a thong.

“You live in an old warehouse,” I pointed out the obvious.

“Yeah,” he agreed to the obvious.

“This is a lot of space, Hawk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

A lot of space,” I went on.

He grinned then took a sip of coffee. I did the same.

When his mug came away from his lips, he stated, “Don’t like close. Need room.”

Interesting.

“Well, you’ve got it.”

He grinned again, put down his coffee mug, took mine from my hand, put that down too and then moved into me at the front, his hands sliding around at my waist to my back, wrapping around and pulling me to him.

I rested my hands on his chest and looked up.

“You’re cute in the morning,” he told me.

“I am?” I asked.

“Cute and sweet.”

“Mm,” I mumbled, glad he thought that but I’d always been a morning person. I was a night person too. I was an anytime person when I wasn’t stressy and in a bad mood.

One of his hands left my back and I watched his eyes get heated and intense as they studied my face.

Then he did something beautiful, something amazing, something that, if I’d had any doubts as to my certainty, they would have disintegrated.

He tenderly slid the backs of his knuckles against the skin of my cheek while he muttered, “A year and a half. Totally fuckin’ missed out.”

My belly went squishy.

Yep, definitely certain.

“Hawk,” I whispered and his hand cupped my jaw.

“How much work did you get done?”

“What?”

“You were relaxed last night, not stressed, you good with work?”

“Um…” I mumbled not wanting to think about work or life or anything, wanting instead to just live this real daydream.

Hawk continued. “I gotta go do something this morning, boys’ll be here in a few minutes and I want you here when I come back.”

I stared into his eyes.

Oh my God.

Yay! He wanted me at his lair when he came back!

My mind shifted to work.

Oh shit.

Boo! I needed to get home and hit it.

I melted into him and my hands slid up his chest to his neck.

“One of my deadlines is today. I’m close to finished but I still need to get some work done.” His arm squeezed me and I continued and I did it in a quiet, slightly scared, slightly hopeful voice but my decision was made and my decision was about him so I figured he should know it even though it scared the freaking shit out of me. “I want to be here when you get back, baby, but I always make my deadlines. It’s a promise I give my clients and –”

“Babe,” he cut me off, “it’s cool.”

“I do want to be here,” I restated to make sure he got it but I did it on a whisper.

His hand at my jaw tilted my head back further as his dipped closer to mine. “I’m gettin’ that, Sweet Pea,” he whispered back, “and I like it.”

He got it. And he liked it.

I licked my lips and nodded.

He touched his lips to mine then lifted his head an inch and said, “I gotta go with the boys. I’ll call Fang, you take your time, get dressed, shower, get some food, whatever you wanna do. He’ll be here in thirty minutes, take you home. I’ll leave a key for you, take it. The security code is three, three, six, four. When you’re done, come back.”

“Okay,” I agreed readily.

His arm around me pulled me closer and his hand at my jaw slid back into my hair as I watched his eyes grow hot.

“We’re passed due, babe. Definitely. Even more since I had to watch you last night in that dress and those shoes and then you passed out practically naked in my bed before we got to play. Plan for an energetic evening.”

Wow.

“Okay,” I breathed it this time and again I did it readily.

He smiled a smile that, with his eyes hot on me and his body close, I saw was hungry.

Yum.

My fingers glided over his hair and put on pressure as I lifted up on my toes and my eyes dropped to his lips.

Therefore I watched them form the words in a mutter, “Totally missed out.”

Then he kissed me, hot, hard, with tongues and his hand at my ass pulled my hips into his as I held on and my legs and insides turned liquid.

He broke the kiss on what sounded like a frustrated growl and I liked that so much, it made me press closer and when I did, his mouth touched mine then came back then again and then his teeth nipped my lower lip.

Um… nice.

“Hawk,” I whispered, still holding on.

“Baby, let go, you don’t, I lose a client and no more fancy shoes.”

I considered this, weighing shoes against sex with Hawk in his cavernous lair.

Then I kept holding on.

He smiled, his arm giving me a squeeze, his mouth touching mine again then he let me go and stepped back. I moved to lean against the bar in an effort to hold myself up and he lifted a hand and ran the side of his index finger along the skin under my chin.

Um… nice!

“Later,” he promised.

“’Kay,” I replied.

His hand moved to my neck and gave it a squeeze then he moved away, dug in a drawer, pulled out a key which he dropped to the counter and then he strode to the stairs. I watched until he made it to the top and then I grabbed my coffee, sipped at it and watched some more as he opened and shut drawers on his dresser and the wardrobe and got dressed.

I heard the vehicles outside as he was sitting on the bed putting on his boots and me and my coffee mug wandered to the stairs as he came down them. He hooked me with an arm at my shoulders, guided me to the door under the bed platform, through it to another cavernous space that held his Camaro, a black SUV, a motorcycle under a cover and still there was enough space to park my car, my Dad’s car and a motor home.

He grabbed a box which hung from a cable and had two, big, round red buttons on it. He pressed one, the colossal door slid up, cold from the outside assaulted me but I only minutely felt it as he walked me to the end of the building, turned me to him, I succeeded in evasive maneuvering with my coffee mug right before he laid another hot, wet one on me.

He lifted his head and muttered, “Energetic.”

“Gotcha,” I replied, he grinned then I watched him prowl to one of three SUVs, seeing one of his commandos had jumped from the driver’s seat and was rounding the vehicle to get in on the other side as Hawk took the wheel.

I stood there in the cold, in his shirt, carrying a shiny, midnight blue coffee mug, completely unembarrassed because I was completely happy in my real life daydream and I waved the commandos off as they drove away.

None of them waved back though I got a couple grins and one amused head shake.

Then I grabbed the box, hit the button, the big door groaned down and I re-entered Hawk’s lair.

* * *

I was on the bed platform making Hawk’s bed when it happened.

The phone rang and, obviously, I ignored it.

Then the answering machine on one of the heavy, dark wood nightstands clicked on. An electronic voice asked the caller to leave a message then the caller left a message.

The minute I heard her voice, I froze mid-pillow-fluffing.

“Hawk?” Hesitant. Probing but unsure. “Honey, I hope everything’s okay. You didn’t show last night. I’m Thursday.” Pause. “I hope you don’t mind me calling.” Still hesitant. “But I’m worried. Um…” Pause. “Call me, okay?” Another pause then hurriedly, “Just so I know you’re all right.” Pause again then, “Um… okay, um… bye.”

There was a buzz because she’d hung up and then silence.

I stood there, pillow in hand, staring at the answering machine, something unpleasant sifting through my stomach.

She was Thursday?

Thursday?

What the hell did that mean?

She was Thursday. Yesterday was Thursday. She was expecting a visit from Hawk.

She was Thursday.

That something in my stomach slid up my gullet, filled my mouth and it tasted of acid.

Chapter Fourteen