twinkle entered Cora’s eyes. “I won’t tell anyone.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Also, Miss Atkins,” Hawk added, “there might be some people sneaking around here, looking for Renee. Reporters, you know. If you see anyone, you be sure and tell us. Or call HPD.”
“I’ll do it.” Cora leaned toward Renee and patted her on the arm. “Didn’t I tell you, my dear, that he’d be back?” Cora turned to Hawk. “She looked so troubled and lost when you weren’t here. But I assured her that any man who looked at a woman the way you looked at her—” her eyebrows wagged “—would be back. All she had to do was wait.”
Hawk didn’t know who was more shocked at the speech Cora delivered, Renee or him.
Cora nodded. “I’ll get out of your way so you can finish moving into the apartment. Congratulations,” she whispered as she walked past them toward the mailboxes.
Cora’s words were as effective as a shock grenade thrown between them. After a moment of silence Renee started toward her apartment. He followed.
She had her key in the lock when he reached out and stopped her. Her gaze flew to him.
“Let me go in first.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I’m being overly cautious. Humor me.” He stood with his hand out, waiting for her to give him the key.
Her embarrassment turned to worry. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. Hawk handed her his garment bag, then unsnapped the gun holster at his waist. He wasn’t going to be caught unaware again. Opening the door, he scanned the room. It only took a few minutes to check the apartment. Joining Renee at the door, he took his garment bag from her.
“Is it going to be like this every day?” Renee asked as she walked into the dining area and placed her purse on the table.
“I’d rather be too cautious than give someone another opportunity to hurt you,” he informed her. “And until we know something different, I’m going to assume the worst, that you’re in danger.”
Color drained from her face.
He cursed under his breath for stating the situation so starkly, but it needed to be done. She needed to be aware of the danger to her and the baby. He could deal with her feelings later.
Scanning the room, Hawk remembered in exquisite detail the time they made love on the couch, then the floor. He held up his garment bag. “I’ll hang this.” He walked into her bedroom, where the only closet in the apartment was located.
Ignoring the bed and the memories of the last time he’d been in this room, he hung his suit bag in the closet. His eyes were drawn to the neatly made bed. The stuffed gorilla he’d given her after a trip to Astroworld sat in the center of the bed. He remembered how touched she was by the simple gift and the way she showed him her appreciation.
Visions of their lovemaking swamped him. The memories of what they’d shared in that bed were both bittersweet and tantalizing. When his gaze left the bed, it collided with Renee’s. Her eyes were dark with memories.
The charged silence made his blood pound through his head.
She looked so troubled and lost when you weren’t here. Cora’s words rang through his head and he shoved away the hope.
But I assured her that any man who looked at a woman the way you looked at her would be back. All she had to do was wait.
Those words had nailed Hawk hard. Surely the old woman was wrong. His heart wasn’t involved. But how could Cora be right on the mark with Renee’s reaction and not his? He didn’t like the directions of his thoughts.
“You hungry?” Renee asked.
Hawk grasped for the lifeline. “I am, but why don’t we go out? You look as though you could use a nice dinner.” The memories of this place pressed in on him. The smell of the honeysuckle under Renee’s window after they made love, the feel of her hands on his body, the taste and smoothness of her skin.
She nodded. “There’s that little Mexican food place, La Loma, off the loop, that serves wonderful spinach enchiladas.”
He remembered the place. Their first date had been there. “Let’s go.”
As he locked the apartment door, he was grateful for the reprieve.
Hawk’s arm rested over his eyes as he lay on Renee’s couch and tried to think of the legal case he was working on for the Houston PD. Maybe if he concentrated on something tedious, he could go to sleep. The couch wasn’t made for his six-foot, four-inch frame. As a matter of fact, her apartment was too small to allow them any personal space. They’d been in each other’s way all night.
The world had taken on a surreal quality this last week. Renee was Emory’s daughter. She was pregnant with his child, and they were to marry.
At first Hawk had thought Emory was teasing him about Renee. He always suspected Emory had wanted something to develop between Renee and him. When Emory assured Hawk he wasn’t joking and explained why he wanted Hawk to marry her, things began to spin out of control.
He still didn’t want to deal with the passion Renee generated inside him. His mother, then his ex-wife, taught him not to give in to his feelings. Emotions only generated problems.
But there was another problem that had cropped up since Renee had agreed to marry him. When they had originally made their agreement to marry, he hadn’t known about her pregnancy. He had hoped that maybe after the danger to her life passed, they might go their separate ways. Now, with a child between them, he couldn’t walk away. So if he was going to stay, what about the sexual relationship between them? He didn’t intend to become a monk. With the level of attraction that existed between them, there wasn’t a chance in hell that they’d keep their hands off each other.
The sound of footsteps going to the kitchen pierced his concentration. Obviously Renee couldn’t sleep, either.
He sat up, slipped on his jeans and joined her. Renee held a glass of iced tea in one hand and a homemade chocolate-chip cookie in the other. She looked rumpled and tempting, wrapped in an old robe, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, and barefoot. Something he didn’t need.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she explained unnecessarily.
Hawk couldn’t, either. “Looks good.” He nodded to the cookie. “Got another one?”
She pushed the tin toward him. “Help yourself.”
After he took a healthy bite, he said, “Nervous about the wedding on Saturday?”
“I feel like a deer the first day of hunting season, in the crosshairs of someone’s rifle.”
He took another bite of the cookie. “Who baked these?”
“I did.”
His brow arched. “I didn’t know you could bake like this.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
From the first time
