He lifted up suddenly, taking me with him, standing and putting me on my feet in front of him.

Yes, definitely pissed, and if I could get beyond the justified jab wounds he inflicted with his words, I would come to realize he had a right to be.

Unfortunately, he kept speaking. “So, yeah, I get where you’re comin’ from, Jesus, I understand protecting yourself from pain. But standing in front of me is a woman who can’t see beyond herself and her own f**kin’ issues to recognize that the man she was tyin’ herself to needs some understanding or, if that’s too much for you, some f**king compassion.”

I realized I wasn’t breathing as I stared up at him because he was right. Damn, he was right.

I wasn’t just a slut, I was also a bitch.

“So thanks for the head’s up, babe. Everything you did that week we were together, every reaction you had to the shit swirling around you, everything out of your mouth, the way you were with the people who love you indicated to me I’d found treasure. It’s good to know early that I was wrong.”

After he sunk that last blade into my flesh, or more accurately I positioned it, held his hand and did the deed, Hawk vanished.

Chapter Thirty

TMI

It was early afternoon when I took a huge breath, flipped open my phone, went to the contact list, scrolled down and hit go.

“Talk,” Hawk’s voice came at me and I started to talk and then I heard a beep and I realized that Hawk demanding the caller to talk was his voicemail message.

I’d been skating the edge of hysteria all day. Confronted with my selfish bitchiness in the face of who I wanted to be my man’s attempt at letting go of a tragic past and moving on with me, the only reason I didn’t make four batches of cookie dough and eat through them all was because I was out of butter.

And his voicemail greeting sent me over the edge.

It was inappropriate considering he walked out on me with a parting shot that pretty much equaled good-bye but I still started giggling.

And through my giggling, I forced out the words, “Baby. Your voicemail message is ‘talk’.” Suddenly my laughter died away and I whispered, “That is so you.” I closed my eyes tight because it was so him and I loved that about him and I finished, “Please call me so I can say I’m sorry.”

Then I flipped the phone shut, placed it on the kitchen countertop, lifted both hands and pressed my fingers in my cheeks. Then I closed my eyes again and sent a wish into the universe that Cabe Delgado would call me back.

Then I grabbed my phone, grabbed my purse, grabbed my net bags and headed out the front door to my car, which was still at the curb where I parked it prior to the drive-by. It hadn’t moved in over a week. I was halfway down my walk when Detective Mitch Lawson slid up and parked behind my Hyundai.

I stared at him in his car.

Why?

Why me?

His being there could only mean, firstly, something was wrong with Ginger and/or I was in some peril or secondly, he’d heard things were over with Hawk, I was down the mountain from Tack and he was moving in.

Why… me?

I buried this reaction and met him on the sidewalk, wishing he wasn’t so freaking hot.

“Hey Mitch,” I greeted.

“Gwendolyn,” he smiled.

I stared at his smile.

Why, I will repeat, me?

“I’ve managed not to get shot at or kidnapped for a whole week,” I bragged.

“Good for you.” He kept smiling.

“Please tell me you’re not here to inform me my winning streak is ending and another incident is imminent.”

He shook his head. “Not here for that, sweetheart.”

I tipped my head to the side. “Then why are you here?”

“’Cause Leo spoke to me this mornin’ and he gave me a surprise invitation to girls’ night in with cosmopolitans.”

I stared at him.

I was going to kill Cam.

“Mitch,” I whispered.

“Honey, I said no,” he replied gently.

I felt relief and loss, the first more than the last but I felt loss all the same mostly because he was hot, partly because he was gentle and also partly because I really liked his eyes.

He got closer and I held my ground as his soulful eyes I liked so much locked with mine.

Then he shared, “Every instinct I got is tellin’ me to move in and protect you not only from everything that’s happening with your sister but from two men I’m uncertain are good for you.”

I sucked in my lips and bit them.

“At the same time,” he went on,” I’m sensin’ that you need space to do whatever you’re gonna do.”

I let my lips go and nodded my head.

“That said, I’d be a fool not to tell you where I stand.”

Uh-oh.

“I was another type of man, the type they are, I wouldn’t hesitate gettin’ in there and muddling your head by making my play.”

At that point, I felt I should intervene.

“Hawk is… well, Hawk,” I lamely defended him. “And Tack is giving me space.”

“It isn’t space to install you in his house, sweetheart.”

Well, that was semi-true.

“But –”

“He’s makin’ his play,” Lawson said firmly.

“Uh… okay,” I agreed since he would know because he was a man and I, obviously, wasn’t. “But I’m home now.”

“Yeah,” Lawson agreed. “You’re in a home that every time you walk up your walk or into your livin’ room, you’ll be reminded of Tack’s play.”

Hmm. This was true. I hadn’t thought of that.

Still, what Tack did was nice.

“Mitch –”

He cut me off. “Remember what I said to you, Gwendolyn. Head up, eyes open and I’ll go on to say, be happy. And I’ll finish by tellin’ you, you’re willin’ to give me a shot at makin’ you happy, you call me because I’m willin’ to take that shot.”

Wow.

“Mitch,” I repeated and his hand came up to cup my jaw so I blurted, “Please don’t kiss me. I like kissing and if you’re a good kisser that’ll definitely muddle my head. No joke. And, honest to God, I don’t need that right now.”

His head dipped toward me, I braced but his face stopped an inch away.

“Okay, honey,” he whispered, “I won’t kiss you but just for your information, I’ve had no complaints.”

I bet he hadn’t.

“Great,” I muttered. “Now I’m curious.”