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Laughing, she tells me to hurry up and order as she is starving and must be back in her office by two o’clock for her next appointment. I contemplate reminding her I have something that can fulfill her appetite but think better of it. She may have attempted to mask her discomfort, but I can see straight through her. My mission to her home country unnerves her, yet I don’t completely understand why.
When she starts telling me about the wedding plans she and Sumner have been discussing, her whole face lights up. Emily and I knew neither Sumner nor Tatum could afford an extravagant wedding, so our gift to them was to take care of all reception expenses. Both argued that it was too much, but this woman of mine refused to budge and has been sending Sumner links to suitable venues for the past month.
“Has she decided where she’d like to host their reception?” I eventually get the opportunity to ask.
“OMG, yes!” she exclaims.
“So, how much is it costing me?” I laugh.
“Don’t ask,” she giggles. “But shush so I can tell you.”
Laughing, I sit in silence and watch in awe as Em excitedly informs me that Sumner wants to book the Governors room at The Liberty Warehouse. When I ask why that venue, she admits it’s because of the harbor views. Not only does it look out toward the harbor, but you can also see the Statue of Liberty through the oversized windows, which, apparently, Sumner fell in love with. According to Em, it also has a second floor which opens to a patio with spectacular water views.
“Tell her to book it.”
“OMG Hawke are you sure?” she excitedly exclaims.
“Of course,” I confirm. “Whatever she wants is fine with me.”
“You’re an angel,mi oso.”
I’m no angel by any stretch of the imagination, but if my actions keep a smile on my woman’s face, I’ll give her whatever she wants.
Surprise takes over her delicate features when I interrupt her. “Actually, let me tell her.”
“You’re going to visit them, aren’t you?” she grins.
“Yes,” I confirm. “You know how much I hate to miss out,” I laugh as the waiter approaches.
CHAPTERTWO
Emily
“Can I take your order?”
Allowing Hawke to order for us both, I sip my water to calm my nerves. I got excited while we talked about Sumner and Tatum’s upcoming nuptials, but he knows something is off with me. He won’t pry unless I allow him, yet it’s been a long time since thoughts of home have had any kind of effect on me. I don’t know why, but something about Hawke’s upcoming mission is making me uneasy. Knowing he’s suddenly decided to travel to Brooklyn to visit Sumner only makes it worse.
“Tell me more about your mission,” I gently nudge, hoping to settle the bad feeling and sadness threatening to take over.
Much to my dismay, Hawke’s eyes light up as he explains that Mark received some intel from a contact in Brooklyn. When I pry as to whom his contact is, he becomes cagey and diverts the conversation. When he does that, I know he is hiding the fact that Gerrick Alexandria is his source. I wish he wouldn’t because the one who haunted my dreams for many years is now dead and no longer a threat, and his children are nothing like their father. I hope he will one day believe me when I reassure him I am no longer scared of that family.
According to his contact, the artillery was stolen from a military shipment marked for destruction and is being sold to one of the Colombian drug cartels. He has missed fieldwork, which becomes obvious as he continues telling me that their contact revealed which cartel and when the deal would take place. It’s not until he mentions Antonio Hernandez that my stomach starts to churn.
“Is that it, Em?” I only just hear him ask. “Is it because of Antonio?”
I knew something was amiss with this mission, and I tell him so. Messing with Antonio is bad news, and he should know that. Grabbing my hands, he pulls me across the table as close to him as he can and promises me he will be careful.
“I’m not going in alone, sweetheart. Liam and Quinn will be by my side.”
He may think his words are comforting, but they’re not.
“Please, please promise me you will be careful,” I plead, tears welling in my eyes.
Looking directly into my eyes, he moves one of his hands from mine to place it on my cheek. With his thumb, he swipes at my tears. My eyes close involuntarily as he says, “I promise you, my love, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Spring Mushroom and Truffle Pasta?” our waitress announces.
Breaking free from our embrace, I smile at the waitress as she places the plate before me. It’s no surprise Hawke has ordered a burger for his lunch. It doesn’t matter where I take him; he will always opt for whatever steak is on the menu and, if none, a burger.
