Mystery Man (Dream Man #1)(47)


I turned to look at him again. “Elvira?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she mistress of the darkness?”

“She gets in a bad mood, definitely.”

Hmm.

“Does she have bad moods often?” I asked.

“She works with thirteen guys who naturally produce high levels of testosterone and feed on extreme situations, which means she has to have attitude and a woman with attitude comes with bad moods so, yeah, she has bad moods often.”

There was a lot there so I broke it down.

“You have thirteen guys?”

“Yep.”

“Like, you employ thirteen guys?”

“Thirteen guys and a girl, yeah.”

Hmm.

“And these guys produce high levels of testosterone and feed on extreme situations?” I went on.

“Yep.”

Oh boy.

“What kind of extreme situations?” I asked but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

His hand came out and wrapped around my thigh before he said in a gentle voice, “Babe, trust me, with my work, ignorance is bliss, yeah?”

Oh boy. I was right. I didn’t want to know.

Time to switch subjects.

I looked back out the windscreen. “So, attitude comes with bad moods?”

“Definitely.”

“You think I have attitude.”

“Definitely.”

“Are you saying I have bad moods?”

His hand at my thigh gave me a squeeze as he said an amused, “Babe.”

Hmm!

He went on, “Though, discovered today I can alleviate Elvira’s bad mood by sending her to Nordstrom’s to buy a pair of shoes that cost as much as a used car and I can make you kiss me for the first time by givin’ ‘em to you.”

I turned to look at him. “I’ve kissed you.”

“No, you’ve kissed me back. I kiss you.”

This was true.

“Plan on more shoes in the future, Sweet Pea,” he muttered and my belly got squishy again, my heart swelled again and that tingly feeling in my throat came back.

Therefore, I announced, “This is freaking me out.”

He glanced at me then looked back at the road. “What?”

“You, being sweet. Generous and sweet. Generous, forthcoming about your life… ish, and sweet. It’s freaking me out.”

“Why?” he asked.

“This isn’t us,” I answered.

“This is the us you wanted us to be, Gwen,” he returned.

“I’m not sure about that,” I lied.

“Bullshit, babe,” he called me on it. “I know you wanna pretend I wasn’t there but I was at your parents’ dinner table last night.”

Oh shit. We were back on this.

“I told you I was making stuff up,” I lied again. “Meredith is romantic. She fainted when she met Dad because she knew he was the man of her dreams, with one look, she knew. She loves me. She wants that for me, she always has so I gave it to her.”

His hand left my thigh so he could shift as he stated quietly, “Gwen, baby, you meant every word you said.”

“Did not,” I returned.

He stopped the car and I saw we were parked outside Tamayo on Larimer Square in lower downtown Denver, otherwise known as LoDo. Tamayo had brilliant Mexican food. Tamayo had unusual, delicious cocktails and guacamole that proved there was a God. Tamayo had a gorgeous mural behind the bar and a sun terrace. Tamayo was awesome.

My eyes went to him as I felt Hawk turn to me.

“Don’t,” he ordered softly.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

His hand lifted, fingers curling around the back of my neck and he pulled me to him. “Don’t pollute what came out of your mouth last night.”

Suddenly I realized this was important to him, not a little, a lot and not a lot but a whole lot and I didn’t know what to do with that but something about it scared the freaking shit out of me.

“Hawk –” I whispered and his hand slid from my neck to my jaw but his thumb moved up to press against my lips.

“Don’t,” he repeated.

“Okay,” I whispered against his thumb.

He dropped his hand and unbuckled my belt then he folded out of the car. He was at my door before I could rest one Jimmy Choo clad foot to the pavement. He took my hand, pulled me out of the car, kept hold of my hand and Hawk, me and my Jimmy Choos walked into Tamayo.

Chapter Thirteen

Totally Missed Out

I woke up and heard Hawk’s murmur from what seemed like far away.

He was on the phone.

I opened my eyes.

I was in Hawk’s bed.

I tucked my hands under my cheek and closed my eyes and the night before came sliding into my brain.

All of it. And there was lots.

First up, Tamayo had cocktails called Tamayopolitans. Pineapple infused tequila, cranberry and guava. Delicious. Refreshing. Dangerous.

I was not adverse to drinking outside a cosmo if the cocktail had ‘opolitan’ somewhere in its name so Tamayopolitans it was.

And lots of them. And lots of food. And lots of me talking.

Hawk’s sharing component of the evening was clearly used up during our car ride. The dinner conversation consisted of Hawk asking questions and me answering them. He might have known everything about me but it was clear he wanted to know how I felt about everything about me so he asked me about my Mom and I told him that, as great as Meredith was, Mom taking off sucked, the fact that she could do it and did. He also asked me about my Dad and I told him all about my Dad, all the reasons why I loved him and all the reasons he was a great Dad (kind of one in the same but I still went into detail about both topics). Ditto with Meredith. The opposite with Ginger, though I did share that regardless of the fact that Ginger was Ginger and there wasn’t a lot to love, she was still my sister and I’d never given up hope that she’d pull her shit together eventually. Until now.

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