Motorcycle Man
Page 100

 Kristen Ashley

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“You need to quit doing that,” I stated even though I hoped he wouldn’t, not ever.
I lost those lips, kind of. They moved to my ear.
“Doing what?”
I turned in Hawk’s arms and looked up at him. “Dematerializing and rematerializing without making a sound. I know you’re a superhero out there, honey, but in this house you’re just Cabe.”
“Babe, I walked through the door.”
“Right,” I muttered and he grinned, giving me the dimples.
Jeez. I freaking loved those dimples.
My thoughts left his dimples when he asked, “Wanna tell me what those four suitcases are in your office?”
“We’re going on vacation,” I told him something he already knew since he bought the first class tickets. Or, Elvira did, but he told her to do it.
“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “To a beach for two weeks. Two weeks on a beach does not equal four suitcases.”
“Yes it does,” I contradicted.
“Sweet Pea, you need bikinis and…” he paused then went on, “bikinis. That’s it. Bikinis don’t take up four suitcases.”
“You’re right, Hawk, I need bikinis and I have bikinis. Five of them. And each of them has its own matching pair of flip-flops and sarong and/or cover up as the case may be. And then we will eat and not just room service. And who knows where we’ll go? Casual. Fancy. Island chic. Plus –”
“Stop right there,” he cut me off. “I’ve lost interest in this conversation.”
“Fine. I’ll stop. Now are you going to quit giving me lip about suitcases?”
“Absolutely, if you promise you’ll never say the words ‘island chic’ to me again.”
I also loved it when he was funny in his commando way.
“Cross my heart,” I replied, sliding my arms around him.
“Excellent,” he muttered, dropped his head and touched his mouth to mine.
I further loved it when he touched his mouth to mine.
He was lifting his head when his phone rang. He let me go with one arm to pull out his phone. He looked at the display, took the call and put it to his ear.
“Talk to me,” he commanded.
Bossy and hot but more the latter than the former.
Something I also loved.
All thoughts of Hawk’s hotness flew from my brain when I felt his body go still and watched his face wipe clean.
“When?” he barked into the phone and my body went more still than his. “Chaos aware of this?” he asked sharply and my arms tightened around him. “Find out. And dig local. They moved in Kansas City, means they could be plannin’ a move in Denver.” He was silent a moment then, “Frequent updates, Jorge, yeah?”
Then he disconnected.
“What?” I whispered and his eyes came to me.
“I gotta get to the office, babe.”
My arms held tight and I repeated, “What?”
“Gwen,” one of his hands slid up my back into my hair, “baby, I need to get into the office.”
“Is Tack all right?” I pushed.
Hawk studied me briefly then did what he had to do because he knew I wouldn’t give up and if he made me the consequences would not be pretty.
“Tack and his boys offered protection to a local guy who got his shit mixed with some local bad guys. Made a deal with an MC in Kansas City to get this guy and his woman out of harm’s way while Chaos dealt with the local problem.”
“Tyra’s friend?” I guessed.
Hawk’s mouth got tight.
“Tyra’s friend,” I whispered then louder, “And?”
“The bad guys found them. Early this morning, Elliott Belova got dead and his woman is in surgery, not lookin’ good.”
My body locked.
Oh my God.
Oh my God!
“Hawk,” I breathed.
“Keep that shit to yourself for now, Sweet Pea. Serious. Do not call Tyra. Let me find out what the f**k’s goin’ on.”
I nodded.
“Now I gotta go.”
I kept nodding.
“Kiss me, babe.”
I rolled up on my toes and kissed him.
Hawk kissed me back, hard but brief.
When he lifted his head, he whispered, “Love you, babe.”
“Love you too, Hawk,” I whispered back.
Then he let me go and poof! Vanished.
I stood frozen at the sink.
Then I whispered, “Oh my God,” my breath hitched as a very bad feeling stole through me, “Tack.”
* * * * *
Tess
Fifteen minutes later, Brock and Tessa Lucas’s house, Washington Park, Denver…
“Martha,” I said into my cell phone, standing in my kitchen, “I advise against a sit down dinner.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you have five hundred guests coming to your wedding. First, that’s going to cost a fortune. Second, it’ll cost a fortune.”
As Martha replied, “Tess, I’ve waited over four decades for this shindig. And I want it to be the… frigging… best… of everything,” I watched as Joel wandered in and stole a cupcake from the array of them on the island.
“Hang on a second,” I said to Martha then I said to Joel, “Honey, those are for the party.”
“There’re, like, a hundred of them,” Joel replied, eyeing the island covered in cupcakes.
This was true with a slight exaggeration and only half of them were for the party since, when I made them, I doubled the number because I knew this exact thing would happen.
“Right, then, it’s still morning,” I told him.
“Barely,” he replied.
He had me there so I didn’t respond and Joey knew what this meant. I wasn’t going to make a big deal of it because, really, there was nothing to make a big deal of.
And anyway, my boys had my baked goods for breakfast on a regular basis.
He grinned, ripped the paper off and shoved half the cupcake with its mountainous swirl of frosting in his mouth as he wandered out.
“Hello? I’m still on the phone,” I heard Martha call and I went back to her at the same time I saw Rex wander in and grab his own cupcake.
I let Rex’s pilfering go without a word. Martha and a sit down dinner at her wedding to DEA Agent Calhoun took precedence. I had a slim chance I could talk Martha out of a sit down dinner. I had no chance I’d talk my boys out of eating my cupcakes.
Martha was wavering when Brock walked in, leaned a faded jeans clad hip against the counter and grabbed his own cupcake.