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She closed her eyes. His proximity, including his scent and the heat that rolled off his body, made it hard to concentrate. That made him dangerous. “What do you want from me, Hawk?”
He took her arm, and she opened her eyes. Their gazes met and the hardness in his was so different from the kindness she’d seen earlier, or the passion she’d seen weeks ago, she almost wondered if he were a different man.
“I want to knoweverything.” That last word came out on a harsh exhale, as if he was only a moment away from losing his temper.
She tried to throw off his grip, except he refused to release her. “Knowing everything could get us both killed. Being around me is dangerous, and you could get hurt.”
He snorted and his other hand landed on the wall next to her head, boxing her in. “Many men have tried to hurt me, darlin’. I’ve dragged my ass through Afghanistan, Iraq, and even did a hardship tour along the DMZ before returning home and getting my patch. Trust me when I say I amreallyfucking hard to hurt or kill.”
This time, when she pulled her arm, he released her. She slipped away from him and headed toward the galley kitchen, rubbing the spot on her arm where he’d gripped her. It didn’t hurt, but she wanted to erase his touch because her reaction to him was too powerful to deal with at the moment. Despite the situation, she’d wanted to kiss him. And she knew exactly where that would lead.
She brushed away the stray hairs that wouldn’t stick behind her ear and paced in front of the kitchen counter that divided the room. “You’re right. I’m on the run.” She glanced at him. He’d crossed his arms, and his eyes had narrowed into slits. “No matter what happens, I’m never returning to Boston. Why I left home doesn’t matter.”
“I disagree.” He tilted his head and kept his gaze on her. “If your trouble brings more trouble to my club, it does matter.”
“I don’t care.” She untied her apron and threw it onto the counter. “Besides, tomorrow I’m getting my car fixed and then I’m leaving town. I should have enough money to pay for the part.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“I don’t know.” She waved her bandaged hand. “Something about the circuit board on the transmission electric oil pump.”
His laugh sounded like a bark. “Do you own that white KIA down at Renegade Motors?”
She didn’t like the shocked tone in his voice. “Yes. So?”
“Did you know Renegade Motors is owned by the motorcycle club?”
She blew out a long breath. “No. The car was towed there, and I’ve only spoken to the mechanic on the bar’s phone.” And since she’d met Hawk at the bar, he’d driven them to the motels where they’d… had sexy times. They’d never had sex in her apartment or his home. They’d never talked about it, it’s just what had happened. Then again, in those early days they’d done very little talking—other than the dirty kind.
Her face felt hot again, and she cursed her Celtic ancestry for freckles and her profound ability to blush.
“Your Kia has a recall notice on that circuit board. If it’s not fixed, the oil pump could fail.”
“So...” She sank into the chair near the lamp—the only one in the room—and rested her wounded hand in her lap. “That has already happened. When I pulled into the bar’s parking lot, hoping to see Tish, I got a red flashy light on the dashboard and smelled something burning beneath the hood. Tish helped me get it towed to the shop. That’s how I ended up stuck here, desperate for a job.”
He released a long, exasperated exhale and rubbed fist across his forehead. “Because there’s a recall on that Kia circuit board, they’re impossible to get right now.”
“That’s not what the garage guy, a man named Snake, said.”
“Snake just intakes the cars. He handles inventory and payments and stuff like that. He’s not a mechanic.”
“And you are?”
“Not officially, but I can fix most anything with a motor.” He stared at the floor. “Izzy, your car won’t be ready for three to four weeks. When it is, it’ll cost at least three grand. And that’s with the recalled part being free.”
Three thousand dollars? She blinked a few times to stop the tears blurring her vision. Not only did she not have anything close to that amount of money, she also couldn’t stay in Ravensburg for another month. “That’s not possible.” Her whispered words sounded like they’d been dragged over a cheese grater. “I thought itwouldbe around five hundred. Six, tops.”
Hawk knelt one on knee in front of her. The anger in his eyes had softened, and his hard features had eased. He placed his hands on her knees and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Izzy. That’s the way it is.”
Thunder soundedoutsideagain, and rain slammed into the tin roof. Since her apartment was on the top floor, and the roof had noinsulation, the rainfall wasdeafening. Then the power went off. Both her lamp and theoutsidestreetlight shut down, leaving them in darkness punctuated by flashes of lightning.
Hawk stood and looked around the room. “Do you have any candles?”
She pointed toward the hallway that led to the tiny bedroom and attached bath. “There is one in my bedroom, one in the bathroom, and one on the kitchen counter.”
He disappeared down the hallway. Moments later, he returned with the two candles and placed them next to the third candle on the kitchen counter. He pulled a lighter out of his back pocket and lit all three.Too bad they were three different scents. She’d probably end up with a headache from the jasmine, sweet orange, and patchouli combination.
Once a bit of candlelight appeared, he moved the one stool from beneath the counter to the living room. As he maneuvered around the apartment, she tried to see it with fresh eyes. It’d come furnished, but that didn’t mean much since there was hardly any furniture—only the worn leather chair with broken seat springs, a wooden bar stool, and a small coffee table. The old wood floors had no rug to protect her bare feet from splinters, and the white plastic blinds were stained, with many broken slats. The gray paint on the walls had blistered and peeled, due to water damage from the leaky roof. That was probably why the room always had a dampish smell. Very, very different from her parents’ eighteenth century mansion in Beacon Hill.
