I don’t catch him again until we’re at the front steps of his apartment. I’ve never been inside before, but I do know his front door is to the side of the restaurant. He’s climbed the steps and has the door open before I’m able to catch my breath and follow. Another, much longer flight of steps follows, and by the time I reach the top, he has his apartment door open and my things on a couch in the middle of a cozy living room.
It’s a masculine kind of cozy. A brick fireplace is surrounded by off-white walls and photographs of the city. The kitchen is small and opens to the living area. In the back corner, I spot the bed and a single door I’m guessing it closes the bathroom off from the rest of the studio room.
“Don’t even think about grabbing your stuff and running. I still have your wallet.” He’s talking while pulling pots out of a cabinet and dropping them on a small stove.
“That’s fine,” I say, dropping to the couch beside my stuff. “You have to sleep sometime.”
Hawk laughs. It’s a rough, guttural sound that makes my skin prickle.
“You can’t make me stay here.”
“You’re free to go whenever you like.”
He’s had his fun. He’s played the part of the overly concerned boss. But my time is running short. I stand and step into his path in the kitchen, so he has no choice but to acknowledge me. “You’ve proven your point, Hawk. I need help. But right now, my bus is leaving and if I miss it, I’m stuck here until the next one.”
He moves past me with ease as if he’s had practice dodging disgruntled house guests. “When’s the next bus?”
“In three days.”
“Good,” he says, filling the larger pot with water and putting it on the stove. “That’s enough time for me to do some digging on this Darren guy.”
I fold my arms over my chest and drop my shoulders. “Did you not hear me back in my apartment? I’ve tried that. There is nothing to find. The police couldn’t come up with a single reason to detain him.”
Hawk fills the second pot with a red sauce from a jar, then he stops and catches me between the kitchen counter and his chest before he puts both of his arms on either side of me. I’m trapped with no choice but to look into his stormy green eyes and feel myself falling hard for the man who’s breaking my heart.
“I’m not the police, Lo. Give me those three days to see what I can find out. If I come up with nothing, you are free to go. But, until then, I’m your shadow.”
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat from his closeness. “What’s my second choice?”
He leans in closer until the smell of his spicy soap overtakes my senses. My knees are weak but resist crumbling. I’m fighting to push him away. Giving in would be so easy right now, but I’ve been here before and it only got me into more trouble.
“You don’t have another choice, Lo. For the next three days, this is your home. Here and the restaurant. Anywhere else you want to go, I go with you.”
I’m not going to win. I know Hawk too well. He never gives up and he never loses. But he won’t be able to help me either. When he figures that out, I’ll be on my own again. So why not enjoy having the company while it lasts?
Even if he’s being annoying as hell.
Hawk
I own a fucking restaurant, and I’m cooking noodles from a box and sauce from a jar. My grandmother is cursing my name in heaven right now.
Truth is, Lo has me so pissed off I needed something to do with my hands. Cooking is my go-to, but with club business and the restaurant booming, I’ve had little time to stock my own kitchen.
She’s sitting on my couch now, reading through one of my motorcycle magazines. I’m sure she’s not the least bit interested in the subject, but anything is better than arguing with me.
I put two plates of pasta on the small round table tucked in the alcove in my kitchen, and I take a seat. If she’s hungry, she’ll join. I don’t have my first forkful to my mouth before she joins me.
We don’t speak but pass glances over the food. She’s pissed and I get it. I’d be angry if someone came into my life and started giving orders, but damn it, I can’t let Lo leave. I’m being selfish. I told myself so a hundred times between her apartment and mine. I even almost put her stuff down on the sidewalk and walked away. I want her to stay because she’s the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Not seeing her in the restaurant would kill me.
But I’m also too stubborn to let her know any of that. I’m no good for her. I could keep the Darrens of the world away, but what else do I have to offer her? I have no family. No future besides the restaurant and Tempest Elite. In ten years, I’ll still be living in the small apartment, because it’s home to me and I don’t need anything else.
That’s a lie, I realize, as I look across my dinner table at the woman who makes my cock grow hard only by watching her eat. I do need something else, but she doesn't need me.
“Have you always lived alone?” Lo asks. Her voice shatters the silence and I’m struggling for an answer.
“I prefer it.”
She nods and takes another bite. “My mother and I had a place like this once. It was short term until we could get into a rental house, but I remember feeling so safe in the small space.”
I almost choke on my next bite. I’ve saved enough to buy a place outside of town. A house like Gunner’s, with several bedrooms and space to grow a family. I’ve come close to doing it too, but each time I back out, realizing I like being able to scan my entire living space with one glance.
“What about your family?” she asks. “Do they visit?”
“My brothers are my family,” I answer sternly. I’ve lost my appetite. I take my plate off the table and hers, even though she’s still eating. I need something to do with my hands again. Washing dishes is the only thing that comes to mind that doesn’t involve touching Lo.
“I mean blood relatives.” She is standing over me at the sink, waiting for my answer, though I believe she already knows it. We’ve talked a little while closing down the bar on slow nights. I know her father died when she was young, and she grew up taking care of her mother who doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body. But the topic of my family never came up. I made sure of it.
“I don’t have any,” I answer before dropping a plate into the dish drainer hard enough to make it clank.
Lo isn’t threatened. She grabs a dry rag from the counter and stands next to me, drying as I wash. That damn strawberry scent is driving my mind crazy while she works.
“You know. If you’re going to hold me captive, the least you could do is let me into your world a little.”
“You are not captive. You can leave any time you like.”
“Without my wallet and money. I don’t think so.” She takes another plate and spins it in her hand, drying all the edges.
She does have a point. I owe her something after stealing her stuff and making her follow me through the streets. I’m not keeping her here for any other reason than to ease my mind. I’m not doing her a favor.
“I never knew my parents and I got passed around house to house until I came of age. Never stayed in one place long enough for it to matter.”