“Don’t even think about it.” His voice was stern but in a joking sort of way. “I’m an old-fashioned guy, Charlotte. I open doors for you, walk between you and the street, carry the groceries in from the car, all of that kind of stuff.” He gave her a long look. “You okay with that?”
She removed her hand from the handle. “I amveryokay with that.”
He surprised her when he leaned across and gave her soft kiss. It happened so fast, she was sure she’d imagined it.
Charlotte was an independent woman who could take care of herself. Just because she was amenable to having a man do nice things for her didn’t mean she was weak.
Hawk climbed out and circled the front of the truck to open her door. He actually reached across her body and unclipped her seat belt. She took advantage of his closeness to lean close and fill her lungs with his heady scent.
He picked her bag up from the floor and handed it to her. Once she looped it over her head, he took her hand and helped her down from the truck.
“Thank you.” Gestures like that were just one of the many reasons why she was captivated by him.
“My pleasure.” He skimmed her bangs aside and looked at her for a long time.
His simple touch left her feeling flustered and brimming with lust. It sent a deep, intense shiver from her core all the way to her fingertips. And there was something about the sound of the wordpleasuretumbling from his lips that hit differently.
“Hawk, I—” Charlotte cleared her throat, shocked by the need coating her words.
“Yeah, me, too, Sweets. Me, too.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back. “Come on. I’m sure they saw us pull up and are wondering what’s taking so long.”
He opened the back door, and Remy hopped out.
How was she expected to walk in there and talk to her mother with her insides in such turmoil? Donna Cavanaugh was very perceptive, especially where Charlotte was concerned. She would know immediately that something was up.
Hawk opened the door and waited for her and Remy to step inside.
A string of small, brass bells hanging from the door handle announced their arrival. The glass beneath it had been scratched from years of them dragging against it.
There were only about twelve tables scattered here and there, each with a metal napkin dispenser, salt and pepper shakers, a jar of ketchup, one of mustard, and the standard bowl full of individual creamers. She filled her nose with a combination of coffee, pancakes, beef stew, and fat from a deep fryer, and found it oddly satisfying. If she had to guess, she’d say there were safely guarded family recipes used in that kitchen that had never been written down on paper. A cup of this, a pinch of that, a skosh of lard, and voilà, comfort food.
“Charlotte!” A chair scraped across the wood floor, and her mom rushed over to her and pulled her into a long, tight hug.
“Hi, Mom.” She nestled her chin against her mom’s shoulder and hugged her back. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into my mess.”
Her mom held her at arm’s length.
“Charlotte Marjorie Cavanaugh.”Uh-oh,she used her full name. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing the right thing.”
“I told your mom the high points of what’s going on.” Calliope stood. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing okay, I guess.” She looked up at Hawk and smiled. “Having him with me definitely helps.”
“Yeah, he’s all right, I guess.” Calliope bumped her shoulder against Hawk’s arm.
“Smart-ass.” He tugged on one of her pigtails like a brother would his annoying kid sister’s.
Calliope pulled her hair free of his grip and squatted down in front of Remy.
“How’s my favorite boy?” She snuggled her face to the dog’s and scratched his ears. “Guess what I’ve got for you.” She reached into the pocket of her denim jacket, pulled out a bone-shaped dog treat, and gave it to Remy.
From what Dulce had shared with Charlotte, Hawk’s teammate was known for her snarky, take-no-prisoners attitude. Not unexpected, considering her upbringing in the swamps of southwest Florida and her choice to work in what is typically a male-dominated career field. But Charlotte had seen firsthand the way she cared about people, especially children. Calliope was just very selective about who she showed that softer side to.
Hawk set his hand on Charlotte’s lower back. A move that did not go unnoticed by her mom, who looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Hawk, this is my mom, Donna Cavanaugh,” she said. “Mom, this is Patrick Nakai, but most people call him Hawk.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Hawk.” Donna surprised Charlotte when she stepped up to wrap him in a hug. “Thank you for keeping my girl safe for me.”
