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I stared at him.

Then I breathed, “Keeping me safe?”

He stared back at me.

Then he asked, “Babe, seriously?”

“I met him once,” I reminded Hawk.

“Twice,” Hawk reminded me.

“Okay, twice,” I amended.

“Yeah,” Hawk agreed.

“So, I don’t get it. I barely know him. Why would he send Dog out to keep an eye on me?”

Hawk stared at me again then he repeated, “Babe, seriously?”

I threw up my hands and straightened in the bed, crossing my legs under me. “Yes, Hawk, seriously. What is up with that?”

His eyes narrowed before he asked, “Do you remember our conversation last night?”

Uh-oh.

“Which one?” I asked hesitantly.

“The one where I told you I clocked you before I even walked into the restaurant where you were sittin’, entertaining every man in the room.”

“I wasn’t entertaining every man in the room!” I snapped.

“Babe, you were.”

“Was not.”

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“You were.”

I leaned in a bit. “Was not.”

“Sweet Pea, you were flippin’ your hair, fidgeting on your stool, suckin’ straws but just your laugh is enough to make a man’s dick get hard.”

Another con. Sort of. I mean, all that stuff I was doing for him and I was certainly glad to know, after all this time, he noticed but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

And it was nice he liked my laugh.

Moving on.

“And this has to do with Tack…?” I prompted.

“Are you not seein’ the pattern here?”

“Uh… no.”

“Were you not in your yard yesterday with Lawson, Tack and me?”

Uh-oh.

“I was there,” I snapped.

“And were not in your livin’ room when your boy Troy showed?”

Hmm. I was seeing his point.

“That doesn’t count, I’ve known Troy –”

Hawk cut me off. “Counts for him.”

He was probably right.

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Hawk continued. “Counts for me.”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “Can you get to the point?”

“The point is, you’re the kind of woman whose furnace breaks down, she calls you, you haul your ass over to her house to fix it, even if you’re in the middle of a game.”

Oh shit. That had happened. It was right in the middle of a Broncos game when I called Troy.

God, I hated it that Hawk knew everything about me.

Another con!

“And you’re also the kind of woman who a man sees curled in a protective ball, he’s moved to do what he can to make certain that doesn’t happen again.”

I felt my eyes get squinty. “Is that why you’re here?”

He shook his head. “I’m here ‘cause when you come, you come hard, you don’t hold back but you do hold on and you do it tight. I’m here because when you call me baby in this bed, I feel it in my dick. And I’m here because you don’t hesitate throwing attitude when every other woman I know doesn’t have the guts to say boo to me. Seein’ you scared and wantin’ to do something about it was just an extra reason that made me want to be here.”

I had no response to that so I didn’t make one.

Instead, I said, “And Tack?”

“The attitude, babe, you threw a hissy fit in Ride and not a lotta women surrounded by members of the Chaos MC would rant about her sister and Barbies and a f**kin’ TV show.”

My eyes got squintier. “How do you know this shit?”

“I got eyes on Ride, Sweet Pea, I watched the whole show and you leak that to Tack I will not be happy.”

This surprised me. “You have eyes on Ride?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you have eyes on Ride?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

This was true. Not only did I not need to know, I didn’t want to know.

“Okay, you made your point,” I told him. “Can we get on to the good news?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The good news is, the fire was contained to the living room. My brother works for the DFD; he’s been to the scene this morning and reports your laptop is all right.”

He had a brother? He had a mother who was a nut who named him a somewhat unusual but definitely cool name and a brother who was a firefighter?

I was finding it difficult to process all this information coming at me – a year and a half and nothing but nocturnal visits and multiple orgasms and now all of this.

“You have a brother?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Do you have any other siblings?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“What? A sister? Brother? Two? Twelve?” I pressed.

“Another brother,” he answered.

Good God. There were three Italian, Cuban, Puerto Rican male Delgados roaming the earth. How did I not know this? As a woman, I should have instinctually felt their presence.

“Where are you?” I continued my interrogation.

“What?” he asked.

“In the lineup, where are you? Firstborn, middle, last?”

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“First.”

Shit, no wonder he was bossy. The firstborn of three boys.

“Babe, did you hear what I said about your laptop?” Hawk called.

I blinked and looked at him.

Then I asked, “What are their names? Falcon and Eagle?”

His dimples popped out then he shared, “My name is Falcon.”

“Your name is Hawk.”

“No, babe, my middle name. Falcone.”

I blinked again. “Your middle name is Falcone?”

“I told you my mother was a nut.”

“What is that? Italian?”

“Yep.”

“So what are your brother’s names?”

“Von and Jury.”

Jeez. His mother was a nut.

“Did your Dad have no input into the naming of his children?”

The dimples deepened. “He strapped her with three boys, Sweet Pea, she wanted girls. She married my Dad, three boys from his seed, she knew she was in for a lifetime of fights, blood, drunkenness, puke and pregnancy scares. That’s what she got. Layin’ that shit on her, he wasn’t gonna fight her on names.”

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