I watched from close as he grinned and his dimples popped out.

Then his eyebrows went up. “Sally forth?”

“Okay, you didn’t sally, you raced. You know what I mean.”

Something about his face changed and I couldn’t put my finger on it because his eyes moved to my hair. Then he fell to his front, bracing his weight on his opposite forearm as he lifted his other hand. He ran his fingers along my hairline, down around my ear and he shifted the hair off my neck. Then his eyes came to mine.

I held my breath because they were heated and intense like at dinner last night.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he whispered and I wanted to tear my eyes from his, I really did, I just couldn’t. “You were worried about me.”

“You were fighting a fire in a pair of cargo pants,” I explained, trying to sound casual and probably failing.

His heated, black eyes held mine for a long time, so long I felt my lungs start to burn.

Then he said, “All right, next time I’m in a house that’s firebombed, I’ll put on a shirt and boots before I tackle the inferno.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

His eyes moved over my face then he asked, “Now that we got that outta the way, you wanna answer my question?”

“What question?”

“How you doin’?”

“I’m fine.”

His eyes held mine again for several long seconds before he whispered, “Liar.”

“I am,” I decreed.

“Gwen, baby, you’re curled in a protective ball again.”

Shit. I was.

I uncurled and pushed up, taking pillows with me so I could rest against my headboard. Hawk moved too, pulling himself up and in so his hip was beside mine and his weight was leaning into his hand on the other side of me.

“Is Meredith downstairs?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Is she making homemade donuts?” I asked.

“Is that a hopeful question or a serious one?” he asked in return.

I had to admit, it was hopeful, but I would only admit that to myself.

Therefore, I didn’t speak.

He grinned again and answered, “No, she’s makin’ eggs and bacon.”

Meredith made good eggs and bacon but her donuts were better.

“Do I have eggs and bacon to make?”

“Apparently, since she’s doin’ it in her nightgown and your robe and she doesn’t have a car and neither do you so it’s doubtful she went out and hit a store.”

I probably did have bacon and eggs. At least eggs, they were a standard ingredient in all kinds of cookie dough.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

“Some guy named Rick came an hour ago with a change of clothes then took your Dad to work.”

See!

“My Dad’s a nut,” I muttered.

He lifted a hand and nabbed a lock of my hair, tugging it then his hand fell while I thought that was a sweet thing to do.

Hawk could be sweet. Hawk was a cuddler. Hawk saved my life or, at least, delivered me safely out of a burning building.

All three for the pro side of the Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List.

Shit.

That was what I was thinking before he asked a question that would explain why he was being sweet.

“You want the good news or the bad news?”

Great. There was bad news.

“Can I have the good news and you tell me the bad news in the next millennium?”

“Sure,” he agreed and I didn’t think that was good.

“The bad news,” I mumbled.

His face got serious. “Ginger got away.”

My face, I was sure, got confused. “What?”

“She got away.”

“From what? The fire?”

“That and the guys who firebombed your house to smoke her out.”

Oh shit.

“They didn’t firebomb my house to kill her?”

“Babe, my car was at your curb.”

“So?”

“You think they’d think I’d let anyone in that house die?”

I crossed my arms on my chest and stared at him. “I know you’re a step down from superhero, Hawk, but seriously?”

He grinned. “You think I’m a step down from superhero?”

Oh shit! Time to cover.

“I was being facetious,” I informed him.

His grin got bigger. “No, you think I’m a step down from superhero.”

“Don’t you have good news to tell me?” I prompted in order to change the subject.

“Probably it was that night I gave you the triple orgasm,” he stayed on the current subject and my mouth dropped open.

Then I snapped it shut to ask, “What?”

“That night when I did that thing with my mouth and fingers and you –”

“I didn’t have a triple orgasm, Hawk,” I snapped but the truth was, I did.

“Babe, you did, I counted.”

“No, it was just really long,” I lied.

“Gwen, don’t you think I know when you stop comin’ and start again?”

“No, I don’t think you know,” I retorted.

“It happens enough,” he observed and he was right.

There was one for the con side of the Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List. Hawk was arrogant.

“Hello?” I called. “Good news? Or, maybe you can tell me why Ginger getting away is bad news.”

He grinned at me then finally changed the subject.

“Ginger getting away is bad news because, I had Ginger under my thumb, I could hand her to Lawson. I didn’t get Ginger under my thumb. Instead, I tackled the inferno in your Dad’s livin’ room.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Hand her to Lawson?”

“Only safe place for her to be is with the police. She cuts a deal, they cut her jail time or, if she’s got half the shit they think she’s got, they hand her to the Feds who give her a new identity, Ginger Kidd testifies then she disappears but she does it breathin’.”

“The Feds?” I whispered.

At my whisper and possibly the terrified look on my face, Hawk’s face gentled. “Babe, you know she’s in serious shit.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, “but the Feds?”

“Her shit is serious,” he repeated with variation.

I looked at my lap and whispered, “Damn.”

Hawk lifted my head with his thumb and finger at my chin until my eyes met his, he dropped his hand and went on. “I had her under my thumb, they wouldn’t have made a play for her. They wanted to smoke her out and get me occupied. They succeeded in that.”

“She was only there a few minutes. Did they have enough time to conceive and execute this dire plan?”

“They’re resourceful.”

That wasn’t good news.

“But she got away,” I finished.

“She got away,” Hawk affirmed.

“And Dog?” I asked.

“Found him. He’s allergic to the police so he took off. He arrived after the fire started, doin’ a drive-by, keepin’ an eye on you for Tack. He didn’t see anything, not even Ginger or she’d be at the Chaos compound right about now.”

“Keeping an eye on me for Tack?”

His look shifted to unhappy. “Told you, babe, you do not want Tack’s attention but you got it.”

“I got it, I know, but I don’t get it. Why was Dog doing a drive-by?”

“Tack’s orders, keepin’ you safe.”

I stared at him.

Then I breathed, “Keeping me safe?”

He stared back at me.

Then he asked, “Babe, seriously?”

“I met him once,” I reminded Hawk.

“Twice,” Hawk reminded me.

“Okay, twice,” I amended.

“Yeah,” Hawk agreed.

“So, I don’t get it. I barely know him. Why would he send Dog out to keep an eye on me?”

Hawk stared at me again then he repeated, “Babe, seriously?”

I threw up my hands and straightened in the bed, crossing my legs under me. “Yes, Hawk, seriously. What is up with that?”

His eyes narrowed before he asked, “Do you remember our conversation last night?”

Uh-oh.

“Which one?” I asked hesitantly.

“The one where I told you I clocked you before I even walked into the restaurant where you were sittin’, entertaining every man in the room.”

“I wasn’t entertaining every man in the room!” I snapped.

“Babe, you were.”

“Was not.”

“You were.”

I leaned in a bit. “Was not.”

“Sweet Pea, you were flippin’ your hair, fidgeting on your stool, suckin’ straws but just your laugh is enough to make a man’s dick get hard.”

Another con. Sort of. I mean, all that stuff I was doing for him and I was certainly glad to know, after all this time, he noticed but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

And it was nice he liked my laugh.

Moving on.

“And this has to do with Tack…?” I prompted.

“Are you not seein’ the pattern here?”

“Uh… no.”

“Were you not in your yard yesterday with Lawson, Tack and me?”

Uh-oh.

“I was there,” I snapped.

“And were not in your livin’ room when your boy Troy showed?”

Hmm. I was seeing his point.

“That doesn’t count, I’ve known Troy –”

Hawk cut me off. “Counts for him.”

He was probably right.

Hawk continued. “Counts for me.”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “Can you get to the point?”

“The point is, you’re the kind of woman whose furnace breaks down, she calls you, you haul your ass over to her house to fix it, even if you’re in the middle of a game.”

Oh shit. That had happened. It was right in the middle of a Broncos game when I called Troy.

God, I hated it that Hawk knew everything about me.

Another con!

“And you’re also the kind of woman who a man sees curled in a protective ball, he’s moved to do what he can to make certain that doesn’t happen again.”