Immediately upon stepping inside, a wave of excited chatter and multiple conversations flood the air along with the most delicious, mouth-watering smells.
I’ve already experienced the Hawkes together at the meeting at Cass and Kennedy’s house, but this is different. That dark cloud that hung over all of them then doesn’t exist here. Like this space is somehow sacred and protected from any of the turmoil the outside world throws at them.
Charlotte and Viviana run around squealing, and Giovanni, who is barely old enough to walk, crawls after them, then tries to climb to his feet, gives up, and returns to all fours to follow.
Bishop watches them, nudging the door closed behind her. “Don’t worry about the little one. Char and Vivi have him.”
I wasn’t actually worried.
Nothing I’ve seen of the Hawkes—in their businesses or their homes—suggests they’re the type to allow their children out of sight of an adult for very long—if at all.
A blond head pops out from around the corner, and Astrid smiles and waves us in. “Hey, guys. I think we’re going to eat in like, five.”
“Perfect.” Bishop leans in with an exasperated sigh. “That means less time for them to grill you pre-dinner.”
“They’re going to grill me?”
“Ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Grill is the nice way of putting it. You know all those infamous tortures used during the inquisition and the crusades?” My back stiffens, and I shift uncomfortably as she stares me down. “Well, multiply that times ten, and that’s what it’s like to be scrutinized by the Hawkes at Sunday dinner.”
I release a heavy breath. “Well, at least I’m prepared.”
Considering the Rangers trained us for the potential of becoming a prisoner of war, having dinner with people I already know and work with doesn’t seem like such a scary prospect.
She gives me a tight smile, backing away from me out of the foyer and toward the sounds of the rest of the family. “Or so you think…”
Well, that’s ominous…
Maybe I should have heeded her warnings, given my apology, and politely declined coming tonight. But it’s too late to regret it now.
She turns and walks away, completely abandoning me as she disappears into the room Astrid came from.
I slowly follow her, pausing in the entry hall to examine a wall of photos of all the different Hawke children and their significant others. Until I get to the final two pictures.
The only ones that are solo shots—Bishop and Astrid.
I don’t know Astrid well enough yet to speculate about why she’s still single, but I can understand why Bishop hasn’t settled down. She hasn’t allowed herself to even consider the possibility of having someone in her life like that.
The job was always the most important thing to her.
It still is.
But I hope that’s going to change.
Soon.
Caroline rounds the corner and smiles at me, and when she does, it’s easy to see how much of her is really in Bishop. She may have followed in her father’s footsteps in terms of her interests and career, but Bishop inherited her mother’s smile and genuine beauty. A softness. It’s just the side she keeps hidden, that she’s too afraid is going to make her look “weak” or—God forbid—“adorable” like I accused her of being.
“I’m so glad you made it!” Caroline approaches and wraps her arms around me for a hug I wasn’t expecting, then pulls back and looks up at me, the tiny woman grinning from ear to ear. “I wasn’t sure you’d come on such short notice.”
I offer a slight shrug. “I didn’t have much going on.”
I’m not about to tell her that when I received the call I was balls deep in her daughter, or that Bishop tried to steal the phone from my hand to disconnect the call when she realized what I was agreeing to.
“Come, come.”
Caroline loops her arm through mine and drags me into the living room, where half of the Hawke family sits or stands around chatting and sipping at their pre-dinner drinks.
All eyes immediately dart over to me.
