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She glanced down at the now closed box. She started to nod but then her expression changed. She squared her shoulders. “I’ll stay and clean up tonight. My grandfather never opened the store late a day in his life. I can’t let him down now.”
Hawk wanted to remind her that her grandfather was dead and beyond caring now, but it wasn’t worth another argument. He needed to go home and ice his shoulder. But then he found himself asking, “Do you want help?”What the hell?Staying to help her went against his better judgement, but this woman intrigued him. The idea of her struggling in the shop, on her own, grated on his nerves.
She glanced up at him. “No. But thank you for offering. You don’t know where things go. It will be faster if I do it. It won’t take me long.”
He thought about pushing the issue so he could stay and make sure she was safe. On the other hand, she’d made it quite clear she wanted to do it herself. He didn’t want to force his presence on her in any way. If she wanted his help, she would have to ask for it.
“If you’re sure?” he said, leaving it open.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll clean this up and then go home.” She gave him a quick smile. “Thank you for all of your help.”
He nodded. “I’ll poke around a bit about the locksmith shop and see what we can do about that logo.”
She gave him a brief nod and extended her arm. He took the small, finely boned hand and watched as it disappeared completely within his grasp. “It was nice to meet you, Remy.”
She snorted. “No, it wasn’t. You had to deal with the cops twice and got beat up by an intruder. There was nothing nice about tonight.”
“I didn’t get beat up,” he protested. This woman was impossible. “Good night,” he said stiffly, and then turned on his heel and left the store.
He was halfway home before he’d calmed down enough to breathe normally. That woman pushed all his buttons. It had been a long time since he’d been that pissed off. He sucked in a breath as he made the light on the southeast corner of Eighty-Second and Broadway. He continued north on Broadway weaving around the few brave souls on the sidewalk. The frigid air kept all but the most dedicated dogwalkers inside. Most of the stores were closed at this hour and traffic was minimal. He turned on to eight-fifth street and walked toward the river. The cold was bitter, and his hands were killing him.
His gloves.She still had them. He’d totally forgotten about them until just this minute. He swore. He was going to have to go back tomorrow and get them. They were his favorite pair. It was like the universe was conspiring against him.
Ten minutes later, he walked into his apartment and closed the door behind him. It had been a hell of a day in all kinds of ways. He winced as he took off his coat. His shoulder was going to hurt for a while. What the hell kind of book did she hit him with? Jesus. He was tired of being cold. No fucking way was he putting ice on his shoulder.
He went into his bedroom, peeled off his clothes, and got into a hot shower. He needed the heat. His hands hurt from the cold. What had possessed him to give Remy his gloves, he didn’t know. Actually, that wasn’t true. He wanted to treat her well because he didn’t want to annoy the Callahan brothers in any way. They just might hold the key to his future. At least, that was what he was telling himself. Her large eyes and nicely rounded ass didn’t have anything to do with it.Much.
But who was he kidding? He let the heat work its magic on his tired muscles. If he went into security work, this would be a common occurrence. He’d feel beat up on a regular basis. Or, at least, he had in the SEALs. It couldn’t be too bad working personal security, could it? He thought about what had happened in Florence when the Callahans had reached out to him to help Jake and Monty. Shit, if that was the norm, he’d need to get back in fighting shape.
He looked down at his body. There were a few scars here and there, but overall, he was still solid. Maybe not as good as he once was, but he hadn’t let anything go to seed. It wouldn’t take long to get back to peak physical condition. A few more hours at the gym each week, and he’d be back up to the size he used to be. The question was, did he want to do that?
He had left the SEALs for a reason. He’d needed a break, but that was then, and this was now. Maybe going into the security game was just the thing he was looking for.
He toweled himself off and put on a pair of pajama bottoms and then wandered out to pour himself a drink. Tumbler in hand, he stared out the balcony door at the darkness. Riverside Park was out there and then the Hudson River, although from this angle and at this time of night, he couldn’t see it. Just inky blackness between the lights from Riverside Park and the lights of New Jersey on the other side.
He loved his place. This apartment was home. The balcony with a view of the river had sold him on it in the first place. He could barely afford it when he’d graduated from law school, but with Drake’s help, he’d gambled on it anyway.
He had known he’d do well working with Drake. They’d hit it off immediately during the interview. Hawk never had a doubt he’d be hired, nor had he ever paused to wonder how he was going to climb the ladder. He had just known he’d be in the top spot one day, and he was.
Jameson Drake was a brilliant man. Hawk had learned a lot from him, but theirs was also a symbiotic relationship. Drake had gotten his money’s worth from Hawk, and then some. It was no wonder Drake knew Hawk was struggling. They were similar in many ways.
Hawk dropped his gaze at the tumbler of scotch for a second before he moved out from behind the bar and went into his galley kitchen. He searched his pantry, letting out anah ha!when he found an old box of tea bags. When the kettle boiled, he made a cup of tea. He hadn’t really had tea in years, but somehow tonight, it felt right.
He took his mug and sat down on the sofa, staring out at the darkness. He shouldn’t have left Remy alone. He tried to relax, but his mind wandered. Was she in danger? His instincts told him there wouldn’t be any more trouble tonight. And that was truly why he’d left. She was fine. For now. But just as he knew she was safe for tonight, he knew more trouble was coming. The sense of disquiet that ran across his skin told him that something was brewing. Remy Tanger was in trouble. He had no idea from what or whom, but he knew she was way in over her head, and she was going to need help. His help. Whether he wanted to give it or not. She was now his responsibility somehow, and life was about to get difficult. For both of them.
CHAPTERFOUR
Remy shelved the last book with a groan. Her back hurt, her head ached, and she was beyond exhausted. What had looked like a small mess had turned out to be more like a mountainous one. Once she started restoring items to their rightful places, it became obvious that most of the books remaining in the stacks had been out of order as well. She glanced at her watch. Two a.m. No wonder she was so damn tired.
She sighed as she started down the aisle to the kitchenette. She dumped her cold tea in the sink and then rinsed out the mug, putting it on the rack to dry. She turned out the lights and headed to the front of the store. She could stay in her grandfather’s old apartment, but she just didn’t have it in her to face all his stuff on top of everything else. She’d cried the last time she’d gone up there, and today had already sucked beyond measure.
Except for meeting Hawk. He was something else. Annoying as hell but so damn hot. She’d have to ask Lacy about him.
She pulled on her coat and stuffed her hands in her pockets to get her mittens. She closed her eyes and swore. She’d forgotten to give Hawk his gloves back. She pulled them out of her pockets and studied them. The gorgeous black leather suited him. Very refined. Like the man himself, but somehow not.
He was a handsome man, no doubt, with short, dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes. The stubble on his jaw by the end of the night had led to all kinds of interesting thoughts for her. If she’d met him another way, or even if she just saw him on the street, she’d think he was the hottest thing. Tall, dark, and handsome, for sure. Too bad he was a jerk.Was he, though? Or was she the jerk? She groaned again; she was toast for the night. It didn’t matter who the jerk was. Then again, it had been her experience that most men were jerks when it came to it.
She put Hawk’s gloves on the counter and then bent down and retrieved her own from the shelf behind the counter. She’d leave his gloves here and find a way to get them to him in the morning. Just one more thing to do. She grabbed her purse and then headed out, making doubly sure to lock the door behind her. She pulled down the iron grate over the store front and locked that as well. Hopefully, everything would be fine when she returned in the morning. Or rather, in a few hours.
