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“Not all the way back. Not until I met you. Hell, not even after I’d met you. I kept pushing you away. I don’t think I was sure I could make it back.”
“Why would you think that? Of course you can. You did.”
Hawk regarded her for a long moment. “Tildy, I don’t know what kind of man I’d be for you. Not the kind you deserve–I know that’s certain.” She began to protest again, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. “I love you though,” he told her. “And I want to try.”
Tildy pursed her lips, and he took his hand away. She glared at him a moment, then pushed her hair out of her face. “You’re not getting a prize either.”
“Tildy-”
“No, it’s your turn to listen. I don’t have anything–just the clothes on my back and a box full of memories, memories that you got for me. I’ll never be able to give you anything like that. I don’t have a job now either. Or a car. Or a place to live.”
Hawk scowled at her. “You’re obviously living here.”
He watched her smile a bit. “Well, I didn’t want to assume.”
“The job is covered,” he told her. “I’ll take care of it.”
She looked troubled. “I don’t know if waiting tables at Maria’s bar is the right career for me.”
Hawk laughed. “No. You and Slick are both right. Maria’s is not the place for you.”
“Can I work at the garage?” He grinned at her. She glared at him. “I meant in the office. Obviously not fixing bikes.”
“No, you can’t work in the office. Because you’d never work.”
Tildy gasped. “I may be a lot of things, Hawk Red Cloud, but I’m not-”
“You’d never work, because I’d bend you over that desk ten times a day. Unless Slick and Shooter were using it. We’d have to time share that desk. And possibly the couch.”
Tildy’s face turned red up to her ears and Hawk held her while he laughed. It amazed him that he still wasn’t tired of it.
“Abby can use you,” he told her. “You’re bilingual. Half of her staff is Hispanic.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“She wouldn’t mind hiring me?”
“We’re family, Tildy. We take care of each other.”
“Family,” she sighed and rolled off him. She lay, wonderfully naked, on his bed and smiled dreamily. That was another thing he knew he’d never get tired of. “So do I get a nickname?” she asked him.
He grinned. “You already have one.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Tildy,” he explained. “The rule for nicknames is that somebody else has to give it to you, and it has to say something about you. Isabel gave you that name. And it says everything I need to know about you.”
She looked unconvinced. “What does it say?”
“That you are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. You’ve held onto who you are, even after all these years. Nothing they did to you could take that away from you. You kept hoping.”
“And then you saved me,” she replied.
Hawk touched the bruise on her cheek. “Angel, you saved yourself. I just gave you a ride.”
Chapter 55
DECEMBER
Hawk stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. Over the last few months, he’d gotten used to living with a female. He was constantly knocking her shampoo off the tiny shelf in the shower, and twice now he’d touched the curling iron when it was still hot. There were things he loved about it though, things he would never mention to her, lest he be required to hand in his Man-card.
He loved that the sheets smelled like sandalwood. He secretly liked the candles she burned in the bedroom, even as he rolled his eyes at them. He liked the smell of her cooking something in the kitchen–well, usually. She had a lot to learn in the culinary department, but Hawk could barely make spaghetti from a can, so he wasn’t about to complain. Mostly, he loved rubbing her feet while they watched TV on the couch.
He didn’t know exactly when he’d started thinking of his home as ‘their’ home, but it hadn’t taken long. His house had always been clean, but it had never been a home. He had to admit the yellow walls were nice.
He heard her key hit the lock, and he stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room. Tildy swept in with department store bags in her hand. She smirked at him in his towel. “Why are you always naked?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “Time saver.”
She set the bags down on the kitchen table and shed her winter coat. Hawk wandered over and tugged at one of the sacks.
“Hey!” Tildy cried, sprinting over and smacking his hand.
“What? They’re for the kids!” he protested. Tildy had coordinated Christmas gifts with Raina this year and done all the shopping herself, which was fine by Hawk.
