Page 18 of Hawk

When my phone rings and Hawk’s name appears on my screen, I’m taken aback. He never gave me his number, and I don’t remember giving him mine. He must have got it off my paperwork.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Babe, are you still at the shop?” His low, sexy voice sounds so good, I forget to respond. “Babe, are you there?”

“Um, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted. With the spreadsheet, I mean.” Crap, I need to get my head together. I sound like a complete idiot.

He chuckles. “Still buried in paperwork, huh?”

“I’ve only gone through a month and a half. Only ten and a half to go, to get caught up, that is.”

“I’m on my way back. Wait for me, okay?”

“Sure. I wasn’t too sure if you’d be coming back. I was going to hang out awhile longer.”

“Great. I’ll take you home.”

“I have my car.” He knows this. My car is in the lot.

“You need a tune-up and a full check. One of the guys said it was sounding rough.”

“But I need it to get to work tomorrow,” I remind him.

“No worries. I’ll pick you up.”

“My car can wait. You guys are busy.” I see the lineup of cars waiting for service. The mechanics have been working steadily all day, and besides that, a mechanic’s bill is not what I need at the moment. “Besides, I’m just getting settled and really don’t have the money to put out at the moment.” I figure it’s best to be honest with him.

“You’re not paying. You work for RR Mechanics, you get free service. Everyone does, but they pay for the parts if it’s something major. I don’t want you driving an unsafe vehicle.” His tone changes to soft and sweet. It makes my heart beat a little faster.

“If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” I murmur.

“Be back soon, Ginger.”

Hawk

Etain is in deep concentration and doesn’t hear me opening the door. Her head is down and her fingers fly over the keyboard as she enters data. She’s completely oblivious to her surroundings.

“Etain, you’ve been at it for hours. Time to go home,” I tell her. Her head comes up. Her glasses have slipped down her nose, and she pushes them back up. I haven’t seen them on her all morning, but she looks cute. Really cute. “I didn’t know you wear glasses,” I comment.

“After staring at a screen and teeny tiny numbers”—her thumb and forefinger come together with the most minute space between them as she squints, which is also adorable—“I find it easier to put them on.”

I laugh. “Professional hazard, I see.”

Her melodic laughter rings out. “You could say that.”

“Come on. I’ll take you to dinner.”

Etain stands and stretches, then looks around for her purse, finding it on the chair next to her, along with a pile of files. “You don’t have to do that. You bought lunch today,” she says as she collects her things and shuts down her computer.

“It’s the least I can do. I was hoping to come back and be around if you needed me, but something came up.”

She tilts her head to one side and watches me closely. She bites her lower lip, and I know she wants to ask questions and is stopping herself from doing so. Then she quietly asks, “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine, Ginger. And so are you.” I lock the office as we leave. Shooter comes with us as we make sure everything else is locked up tight. Then Etain and I walk to the parking lot, where she heads for my bike. “We’re taking my truck, babe.”

“Oh. Sure.” She’s disappointed. Etain has caught the bug of riding on the back of a bike. Works for me, but not tonight. If there’s a Jackal around, I want to keep them guessing about where to find me. The truck has tinted windows, and I know this town inside and out. I like having the advantage.

I hold open the door and help her in, then move around the hood and get into the driver’s seat. As we drive down the road, I ask, “How’s the work going? You’re not going to quit on me, are you?”

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