Page 17 of Hawk
“So, why did you want to come by?” I shrug off the question in hopes of me not seeming like a damn loser. I have never been this nervous before in my life. My stomach is full of belly bats.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder holding me closer to him. “Is it a problem? Did you have a hot date or something?”
I want to snort at a laugh. The man practically followed me back to my place and he’s now asking if I had a hot date?
“If I did, I’m pretty sure two big scary bikers would have scared them off.”
We’re walking around the park in the middle of the buildings. He points to a swing and I eagerly take it. The whole thing is incredibly romantic and something I never thought I would see from him.
Who would have thought a biker would do something so sweet like this. I wouldn’t have.
Hawk is standing behind me and he lightly pushes me on the swing.
“That’s what you think we are? A bunch of scary bikers?” His voice is low, grumbly and full of gravel. It is also utterly sexy.
I squeeze my thighs together. “I’m just saying, if I had a hot date, I wouldn’t be out here with you.”
“Tell me a little about Maci,” Hawk suggests.
I tense up. This is the part where I have to be careful. I have no idea who this man is, and I don’t want to give away too much information. If I say the wrong thing and it gets back to the Vitali family, Riley and I are dead.
“Uh, just moved here. Enjoying the town,” I answer as lamely as I possibly could. I don’t want him to know that I’m a prosecutor or that I’m running from something big. That I’m running from a man who wants to kill my daughter and I. I also don’t want him to know I have a daughter yet. That’s something I don’t want to explain.
“That’s vague. Care to explain a little more?” Hawk asks with his hands lightly touching my back to push me in the swing.
Each time his fingers touch my back, my nerve endings shiver and shake at his touch. Everything about him is hypnotizing.
“Tell me something about you and then maybe I’ll share something.”
“I love a girl that plays hard ball with me. I’m a tattoo artist. No kids, no ex-wives. I’m as single as they come.”
I snort unladylike. “Is that so? How does a man like you not get wifed up?”
He stops pushing me and holds onto the chains of the swing to pull me closer to his body. “Maybe I haven’t found the right woman, yet.”
Our lips are hovering over each other. I’m about to lean in and kiss him when my phone rings. Jesus!
