Page 85 of Isaac

"I can play nice with fire." He smiles. "Wanna bet?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Sure. Hundred bucks says you’d be begging for another glass of water halfway through your bowl." I pull out my wallet and fumble for an appropriate bill, then slap it on the table, challenging him.

Hawk just grins and says, "I’ll show you how it’s done."

Thirty minutes into our little gamble my wallet is a hundred bucks lighter.

The Vegas skyline gradually fades in the rearview mirror as we speed toward the outskirts of the city. The wild stretches outaround us, illuminated only by the distant glint of the casino's neon lights.

"Now that you fed me, you’re taking me to the desert to kill?" Hawk says jokingly.

"Patience," I reply cryptically, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "You'll see soon enough." My heart is drumming in my chest like crazy when we turn off the main road and onto a winding path that leads through a sprawling estate, flanked on either side by towering palm trees that sway gently in the evening breeze.

As we approach the front gate, and I roll down the window, Hawk's curiosity gets the better of him. "Whose place is this?" he inquires, craning his neck a little to get a better look at the imposing structure beyond the wrought-iron fence.

"It's mine," I answer simply, pressing a button on the dashboard to open the gate.

Hawk looks at me with a bit of surprise but says nothing as we pull up the driveway and park in front of the house.

We step out of the car and I let him take it all in. It’s remote and I didn’t tell him that we’d be ending this day here—at my house that I keep a secret pretty much from everyone. Only Jeremy and a couple more guys have visited in the past, very briefly.

I don’t want him to think I’m asking him to do something he may not want to do. I can read the room all right. There’s definitely chemistry between us and I want to keep going. But I’m not the kind of person who’ll do this without proper consent.

"Wow," Hawk murmurs, clearly taken aback. "You have a beautiful home."

Something a lot like pride flutters in my chest. It’s an elegant Spanish-style architecture piece, perfect against the backdrop of the desert. Its angles are softened by the small garden filled with mostly native plants and some colorful flowers.

Hawk confesses, circling the car, "I always imagined you as someone who preferred modern architecture with lots of glass and concrete."

"Not very Isaac Thoreau for you?" I ask, fumbling with the car fob in my palm. I’m nervous I realize whenever the distance between us shrinks.

No, I’m nervous around him all the fucking time.

It’s infuriating.

"Don’t know," Hawk responds with a shrug.

"What did you imagine my home looking like? Some dark mansion filled with guns and knives?"

"Maybe not quite that extreme," he admits with a crooked smile.

Our bodies stand a whisper apart, and my heart is now thrashing against my rib cage in earnest and I can’t bear it anymore. I take a step forward to erase the distance between us. I reach for his hand, placing a car key fob gently into his calloused palm.

His eyes study my face.

I lean forward and capture his mouth with mine. The kiss is brief. Just a hello. Then I murmur in his ear. "You can take the car and go. I’m not telling you to stay. It’s your choice… But if you do want to stay, I’d love to…explore…whatever it is happening between us—" My nerves strangle every word ebbing from me, resulting in nothing more than unintelligible mumbles, or so it seems, "—has been happening since that very first time we met the day of your interview."

I retreat just enough to look him straight in the eyes, bracing myself for rejection just in case.

Hawk's gaze meets mine, his blue eyes twinkling under the moonlight as he seems to mull over my confession. The silence is thick, paralyzing every muscle in my body in anticipation.

He glances down to where the fob was placed safely in his hand, then back up at me—his gaze searing through layers of doubt, fear, and desire.

"I’m not going anywhere..." he breathes out finally and returns the fob to me.

I shove it into the pocket of my slacks.

Without breaking eye contact, Hawk reaches out, tracing my jawline with the pad of his thumb. His touch sparks a blaze that engulfs my entire being, leaving me in the grip of an electric tingle resonating from where our skin meet.

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