Page 78 of Mischievous Lies

“That, I already knew,” I reply smugly.

“Ilike you,” she says.

“Yeah? Well, how about I show you how much I like you?”

“Hawke, be serious for a moment,” she chides, her blue eyes pinned to mine. “Thinking about tomorrow is scary for me. Do you guys just go in, kick down doors, and kill them? Is there something I can do to help?”

I press a kiss to her lips to silence her worrying thoughts. I curl her fingers above my heart, right where the new tattoo is. “Kicking down doors is fun. But killing is my favorite part. But you don’t ever have to worry about me not coming back to you.”

“You can’t promise that,” she says quietly. It’s strange to see this powerful woman lose her confidence, and I realize it’s up to me to fill her with that reassurance.

“I can promise you that I love you. And you don’t have to say it back right now. I’ve waited long enough for you; I can wait more. But what I can tell you is that no one’s kicked my ass yet. Except Ford on the odd occasion when I felt bad for him. But I will come back to you. This is a part of me you’ll have to accept. My spiked gloves, and I can literally take on the world. It might be drenched in blood afterward, but that’s who I am. But if that’s not what you want…” I think about what I might have to change about myself to appease her. For her to understand this part of me.

Her hand cups my jaw. “I don’t want you to change, Hawke. I know you enjoy killing. Just be safe. Please. And don’t leave me waiting for long.”

I kiss the inside of her wrist. A silent promise. “Move in with me?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You are such an opportunist.”

I squeeze her hand and kiss her lips. “I’m very persistent as well,” I growl. “And stop avoiding the question.”

“Ask me when you come back in one piece. Every scratch, bruise, or wound on you equals one day without sex.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “What? You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious.” She nods.

I’m so fucked. I always come back battered and bruised, but that’s because I live for the thrill. But I also love sex. With her.Fuck.

She’s laughing at my inner turmoil, and I dive in to tickle her, the only form of attack I can torture this woman with. Ivy kicks and screams, trying to wriggle out of my grip.

Who would’ve thought that I, playboy of the year, would settle down with the hottie of the year? I guess it was always meant to be. Luckily for her, she likes my sense of humor. But I think she likes what’s between my legs even more, and I can’t say I blame her. I have a very beautiful cock. That likes to do very beautiful things to her very beautiful pussy. And I’m always starving, parched, and needing my fill of her.

I don’t give a fuck what my brother says.

Ten minutes, my ass. I won’t be timed making love to my woman.

Even when I always feel like we don’t have enough time.

The thought of kidnapping her and never letting her escape comes to mind.

I’d never be able to clip her wings, though. I can only bask in what she’s willing to give me.

CHAPTER 47

Ivy

The inside of my bicep itches from the tattoo I got yesterday. I decided on a pair of spiked gloves, and I swear Hawke almost cried, complaining about some dust in his eyes.

Telling him that I love him scares me. Hawke so easily wears his heart on his sleeve, but I feel like there should be some kind of resistance or a timeline for relationships. But as I look at the women sitting in my apartment—all of them in the same boat as me—as our men are out taking care of business, I realize none of their timelines are the same.

I’ve never been in a relationship, but I can’t fault any of what Hawke says. When he says he loves me, he means it. I’ve felt it in his words since he started saying it to me in the dead of night.

But it feels like it’s the final thing to keep me from going all in because I know the moment I say it to him, I’ll fall so deeply I won’t be able to turn back. Maybe I already have. No, I know I have. If not, I wouldn’t have gotten the tattoo of his gloves on my arm to go along with the ivy on his chest.

I wanted the gloves specifically to represent my acceptance of that part of him. I never want to change him. I know beneath the larger-than-life energy is an unquenchable hunger for violence.But also amongst that is something so sweet that I’m privileged to cherish.

Hope is enjoying a cup of tea at my kitchen counter. Billie stopped pacing back and forth a few moments ago and is now sitting down with popcorn as she flicks through the channels. It must be hardest on her since she almost lost Ford once already. Although I heard Hope’s dad shot Braxton in the chest, so that could be scary, too, I suppose. But Hope is as calm as they come. Posie stayed home to look after her son, Bentley. And Jewel, being the badass she is, went with Eli, Dutton, Ford, Braxton, and Hawke to Springfield.

---