Page 12 of Hawk

Ichecked the mirror again. For the third time. Okay…the fifth.

I wasn’t even wearing anything fancy. Just the same tight pair of jeans that did amazing things for my butt and a cropped sweater in a shade of soft gray that matched my mood. I’d changed shirts twice already before settling on this one. It was comfortable and didn’t scream that I was trying too hard but still looked good on me. Maybe Callum would just assume I’d gotten cold and changed for that reason. April in Tennessee was known for having unpredictable weather.

I’d put my nervous energy to good use in the few hours since Lainie had dropped me off at my house so she could go visit her brother. My house was probably cleaner than it had ever been. I wiped down the kitchen counter again even though it didn’t need it, then adjusted a framed photo on the wall. It was one of the many nature shots I’d taken before I got into boudoir.

My house wasn’t much. Two bedrooms, one bath. But it was mine, and Callum was about to see it for the first time.

I wanted my home to make a good impression on him, and I’d done all that I could by the time he knocked on the door.

I wiped my hands on my jeans—a nervous habit I needed to break around him—and tried not to look like I was about to pass out as I crossed to the door. But when I opened it, all my carefully rehearsed calm evaporated.

He was taller than I remembered. And bigger, somehow. Maybe it was because he was dressed in all black, from his fitted T-shirt that clung to thick biceps to his dark jeans that hugged his thighs like a second skin.

That dark scruff still shadowed his jaw, and I wondered if he had to shave twice a day to keep it at bay.

The stray thought flew out of my head when his dark brown eyes locked onto mine.

Heat bloomed low in my belly, but it was the other feeling he sparked that rattled me more. Safety.

I barely knew Callum, but he made me feel like nothing could touch me as long as he stood there. And that scared me almost as much as the messed-up situation he was helping me with.

“Hey,” I managed, my voice too breathy for my liking.

He gave a short nod. “Gemma.”

“Come in.” I stepped back, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous I was.

He moved past me with the grace of a stalking panther, his gaze sweeping the entryway and living room, lingering longest on the windows.

“You don’t have to do a full tactical sweep,” I joked, trying to break the tension. “I swear the plants haven’t turned against me yet.”

He didn’t even smile. “Where’s your breaker box?”

I blinked. “Um, in the garage. Which is my studio space now.”

He nodded once. “We’ll head out there after I do that tactical sweep, which is very much necessary.”

Pausing by the window, he tapped the trim. “No sensor. I’ll add magnetic contacts here and here. Glass break detectors, too.”

I blinked. “You’re planning to install stuff yourself?”

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Absolutely.”

Butterflies swirled in my belly as he moved on, muttering about sightlines, exterior exposure, and interference shielding. I trailed him but did not understand at least half of what he said.

When we walked to the kitchen, he scanned the back door and the small window above the sink. “Deadbolt’s decent. I’ll upgrade the strike plate. Add a motion sensor on the exterior light. And a silent alarm pad behind the pantry door that only you and I will know about.”

My eyes kept getting wider. “Is this the part where you tell me I should sleep with a knife under my pillow?”

“No,” he said without missing a beat. “Because I’m installing a panic button near your bed.”

I stopped in the middle of the room. “Wait, what?”

Callum finally turned to face me, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression carved from stone. “You said someone accessed your encrypted system and sent you a threat. That makes this a targeted breach, not a random hack.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“I take targeted threats seriously.”

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