“So now I know the name of your friend that managed to persuade you into that outfit, but I don’t know yours.” He looks at her expectantly, leaning in a little closer than necessary and it strikes Melissa that he’s flirting with her. Sure, it’s an ego boost, but she hasn’t forgotten the very familiar way he was chatting with the waitress from earlier, perhaps this is just the way he behaves with everyone.
Get a grip, Potter, this guy probably has women falling at his feet on a daily basis. Just because he’s being nice to you doesn’t mean he’s interested.
“Is it really that bad?” She stands up a little straighter and puts her hands on her hips, realizing she’s flirting with him.
He gives her a blatant slow once over, from the tips of her borrowed boots right up to her big blue eyes that Ali has managed to make look even bigger tonight. It couldn’t be any different to the once over she’d had from his girlfriend earlier or from the Drunk Suit Guy. It doesn’t make her feel cheap or trashy. It makes her feel sexy and it warms her right through.
“Bad is definitely not the word I’d used to describe how you look. But you don’t need to fish for compliments. I have no problem telling a girl how pretty she is.” He shoots her a cocky smile that would probably be infuriating if he weren’t so damn attractive and Melissa feels herself flush. “So are you going to avoid my question or are you going to tell me your name?” He takes another sip of his beer, looking nonchalant, as if it doesn’t matter to him if she tells him or not. As the silent seconds tick by, eventually he sighs heavily and sticks his hand out towards her as if he’s showing her something she hasn’t seen before. “How about this? I’ll go first. I’m Hawk, nice to meet you…”
She smiles, enjoying the game and his complete confidence in himself. “My name’s Melissa.” She shakes his offered hand, almost giggling at the formality of the act after the events of the night. But any desire she has to laugh is abruptly stifled by the zing that jolts through her as she touches him. His hand is warm and strong and she feels the heat travel through her body right down to her core.
Hawk watches her as her emotions play out across her face. She had never been very good at keeping a poker face. He gives her that sexy grin of his again and Melissa abruptly pulls her hand away from his as if his touch had burned her. In a way it had. She takes a hurried sip of her drink, more from a lack of anything else to do to distract her from the sexy man next to her than because she actually wanted the beer.
“So where’d you learn the moves you pulled on that asshole?” Hawk jerks his head towards the exit where he’d escorted Drunk Suit Guy. “You looked like you knew what you were doing.”
“I’ve been doing martial arts since I was a kid. I’ve only had to use it a few times in real life.” She realizes her hand trembles against her beer.
Hawk’s warm hand covers her shaking one. “It’s normal that you’re a little shook up. It would be weird if you weren’t. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to most people every day.” The gentleness in his eyes makes her heart melt a little.
“If that’s true, why do I get the feeling that this wasn’t your first fight?” She raises a questioning eyebrow at him, surreptitiously slipping her hand out from under his and immediately missing the contact when she does.
“You couldn’t really call that a fight.” He shakes his head dismissively at the thought.
Melissa wonders if he’s normally this cagey or if he’s purposefully avoiding answers to her questions. The thought crosses her mind that, perhaps she isn’t the only one with something to hide. Her cell buzzes insistently in her pocket, interrupting her train of thought. It’s Ali, asking her when she’s going to be done.
Suddenly Melissa feels exhausted. Her first night on the reporting job that she’s expecting to kick start her whole career has pretty much been a bust. Between being mistaken for a hooker, getting involved in a bar brawl, and having found out absolutely zero information about the Caged Kings, she could officially call this night a complete waste of time. Hawk throws her one of those intense stares of his and she rectifies her assessment of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t a complete waste.
“I should get back. It was nice to meet you, Hawk, and thanks again for your help.” She signals for Matt to tell her what she owes.
“Those are on me, Matt.” Hawk beats her to the punch and Matt doesn’t seem to have any intention of taking her money.
Melissa contemplates arguing, but the night has been way too long for her not to appreciate a seriously hot, nice guy buying her a drink. “Then thanks again, I guess.” She throws him a smile and grabs her jacket.
“Hold up, where’s the fire?” Hawk catches hold of her arm before she manages to walk past him.
Melissa throws him a questioning glance, trying not to notice the electric current that runs up her arm from the contact between them. “No fire. I should just get going. My friend will probably be wondering why I haven’t called her yet to come get me.”
“Ali.” Hawk nods knowingly and Melissa can’t help but feel a little thrill of triumph that he’s cared enough to actually listen to her and remember her friend’s name. He straightens up, coming to his full height so that she has to look up at him, at five-nine it’s not easy to find a guy who towers over her like Hawk does. He makes her feel small and delicate and feminine. It’s a nice feeling. “You ever been on a bike?”
Melissa raises an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “Like a motorcycle?” She wishes the stupidity of the words back as soon as they’re out of her mouth.
Hawk’s lips spread into that sexy smile of his. “Yeah, a motorcycle. I could give you a ride home. It’s on my way.”
Melissa levels him with a flat look. “You don’t even know where I live!”
He shrugs. “Wherever it is, I’m sure it’s on my way.” His cockiness would be annoying on anyone else, but it really seems to work for him, his confidence making him even more appealing. Without waiting for her response, he takes her hand and leads her out of the bar as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It’s only when Melissa is out in the cold night air that rational thought seems to penetrate her brain. She plants her feet, and Hawk looks at her questioningly. “Doesn’t your girlfriend mind you taking strange girls on your bike?”
“Girlfriend?” He says the word as if it were a foreign concept and Melissa makes a note to herself that it should set alarm bells ringing. Hawk is clearly not the kind of guy that stays with one girl for long. Between his impossibly good looks and his confidence, it’s not hard to imagine that he probably has his pick of girls and is more of a love ‘em and leave ‘em sort. She doesn’t know why that makes her feel a little deflated.
“The waitress…Felicia.” She gestures vaguely behind her, releasing her arm from his grip in the process to allow her to think a little clearer.
Hawk laughs, a deep warm chuckle that she feels right down to her core. She folds her arms over her chest, and her chin goes up, not enjoying the fact that he seems to find her so wholly amusing. Hawk catches her expression and seems to register the fire behind her eyes. He holds his hands up in a surrender pose and has the decency to look a little contrite.
“Hey, don’t get mad, although it kinda works for you.” He throws her a cheeky wink and Melissa finds it hard not to smile. His expression sobers, like he wants her to take on board what he’s saying. “Felicia is a friend, that’s all. We’ve known each other a long time. She’s not my girlfriend.” Melissa feels the tension go out of her body at his words and the green-eyed monster of jealousy goes back into her box. Hawk watches her as if he can see through her and knows what emotions she’s going through. The thought of that is both disconcerting and exciting. “Better now?”
Melissa gives him a warning look, but it’s hard to keep up when a smile is creeping onto her lips.
“Good.” He nods, like he hadn’t expected any other outcome. “So tell your friend you don’t need a ride and l
et’s get going.” He strides purposefully towards one of the many motorbikes sitting outside the bar, clearly expecting her to follow.
Melissa looks down at her cell where she’d already drafted a text at the start of the night with the word ‘Monopoly,’ ready to send at the first sign of trouble. Without analyzing what she’s doing, she deletes the word and fires off a message to Ali to say that she’s making her own way home and not to worry. She shoves the cell back into her bag, knowing Ali will be lighting up her phone with message after message quizzing her and she’s not quite ready for that yet.
She takes a deep breath and follows Hawk who is now straddling his gleaming black and silver bike and holding out a helmet for her. They lock eyes and there’s a definite attraction between them. It’s an undeniable pull that clouds her mind.
“Don’t be scared, Melissa.” The serious look that Hawk gives her makes her wonder if he’s talking about the bike or something altogether different.
“I’m not.” She grabs the helmet, pulling it on and settling herself on the bike behind him.
He lets out a low chuckle. “Where we headed, Melissa?”
She smiles at the way he says her name. It feels almost intimate. She rattles off her address and he lets out a low whistle.
“So you’re a ‘right side of the tracks’ kind of girl. I can work with that. Hold on.” She doesn’t have time to ask what he can work with or to protest at the fact that he’s classified her as an ‘uptown girl.’
As the bike starts to move she lets go of any reticence and wraps her arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through his leather jacket. He guns the engine and she holds on even tighter, partly out of a sense of self-preservation and partly because she just likes the feel of his strong body against hers. Between that and the powerful engine vibrating between her legs, it’s hard to concentrate on anything but how good she feels.
They zip through the streets and Melissa feels a euphoria that she hasn’t ever experienced before. It isn’t exactly a stretch to understand why bikers love the rush. By the time they pull up outside the little house that she and Ali are renting, the adrenaline is still pumping around her system. She pulls off her helmet and jumps off of the bike feeling pumped.
“That was amazing!” She’s breathless and her eyes sparkle with excitement.
Hawk looks at her in a way that makes her heart do somersaults in her chest. Zing, she thinks to herself. She breaks eye contact, handing him back his helmet and trying to get her brain back under control and stop it from going off on tangents to do with Hawk’s eyes, his strong hands and what she’d like him to do with them.
Stop it, Potter. Get a grip.
“Thanks for the ride and for your help earlier.” She waits a beat. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
Hawk doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking at her until his eyes slide past her to the car behind. His eyes widen and he jumps off his bike to take a closer look. “Holy shit! Is that a ’75 Mustang?” He runs his hands along the damaged bodywork, looking like a kid at Christmas.
Melissa tries not to sigh at the realization that Hawk is more interested in her classic car than her. It’s a sobering thought and enough to snap her out of her daydreaming. “Yeah, it’s seen better days.” That’s probably the understatement of the century, she thinks to herself as she looks at the dented and rusted bodywork. “It was my mom’s. She’s had it since forever. It was my graduation present.” Melissa can’t help but smile when she talks about her mother. They had always been close and the fact that she would give Melissa the car that had meant so much to her completely outweighed the fact that the car was more or less a wreck.
“Helluva present.” Hawk plants his hands on his hips and surveys the car, looking impressed despite the sorry state it’s in.
“It was. I just wish it didn’t cost me so much to keep it on the road. I feel like I’m taking it to the garage for one thing or another more than I take it anywhere else!” She hugs herself to keep warm.
“You take it to a specialist? Someone that deals with classics like this?” Hawk squats down, inspecting every inch of the Mustang.
Melissa huffs out a laugh. “Specialist body shops cost money that I don’t have. I just take it to whoever will give me the best deal.” She shrugs. “I’m taking it in again tomorrow. It’s been making this weird sound and I’m just waiting for the day when the engine falls right out.”
Hawk looks at her as if she’d just told him she was a serial killer and shakes his head. He pulls out a card from his back pocket and hands it to her. She takes it automatically and reads the address of a place called ‘The Shop’ in the Pearl District, one of the trendier parts of town. She looks up at him with a raised, questioning eyebrow.
“It’s the body shop where I work. Bring her by tomorrow and I’ll take a look, see what I can do.” He gives her a measured look.
“Her?” Melissa teases him.
“The car.” He gestures towards the Mustang. “Trust me, it’s a she.”
“You’re a mechanic?” Melissa looks between him and the card she’s holding as the wheels in her brain start turning. She hadn’t thought about the Caged Kings having real jobs outside of their illegal dealings. But it made sense. They would need legitimate businesses to launder their money.
Hawk shrugs. “I’m pretty good with my hands.” It’s a line, but it’s a good one and Melissa feels the heat rushing to her cheeks. “So you’ll come by tomorrow?” He watches her expectantly and it’s the hint of vulnerability in his question, the fact that he seems to care about her answer that cinches it.
“Sure, that’d be great.” Melissa tells herself she’s going to go to the body shop because seeing Hawk is a good way to learn enough about the club to write a really good story. He just might be her way in. She tries to persuade herself that her decision has nothing to do with how handsome he is, or the way he makes her feel.
Hawk nods like he hadn’t expected any other answer from her and she wonders if she’s imagining the look of relief that flits across his face. A purring sound coming from Hawk’s feet breaks the moment and Melissa watches as he breaks into a smile, scooping up the grey ball of fluff that’s been entwining itself around his feet.
“Hey, little lady.” Hawk scratches behind her ear making her purr even louder. “She yours?”
Melissa swallows hard. The sight of this strong, sexy man going all soft over her kitten is enough to knock her off her feet. “Yeah, that’s Cat. I found her and just couldn’t bring myself to take her to a shelter.”
Hawk raises an eyebrow at her. “Cat? So how many times exactly have you watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”
Of all the things Hawk could have said, that is the one that she was least expecting. “You like Audrey Hepburn movies?”
He looks embarrassed, like he’s just been caught out and the sheepish grin makes the butterflies in her stomach take flight again. “Felicia likes Audrey Hepburn movies. That’s one of her favorites.” He shrugs and Melissa feels a stab of jealousy again at the intimacy he shares with the petite blonde waitress. A buzzing sounds from his pocket and he pulls out his cell, frowning at the message before he places Cat gently back down on the floor. “I have to go.”
Melissa shakes herself out of the doe-eyed staring she knows she’s probably doing. “Right, sure. I didn’t mean to keep you.”
Hawk smiles at her and closes the short distance between them. For one delicious moment she thinks that he might kiss her, but he just reaches up and tucks a strand of wayward auburn hair behind her ear, his fingers tracing a hot line along her cheek. His eyes flick down to her lips that she’s just moistened with her tongue and she feels the warmth of his stare. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Melissa.” His voice is husky and she knows hers would be the same if she had recovered the power of speech.
Without a backward glance he heads to his bike, guns the engine, and is gone, leaving Melissa staring after him. She forces herself to turn around and hea
d towards the house, picking Cat up as she goes. The events of the day play through her mind, from her conversation with DeVry to the electricity that shot through her when Hawk touched her cheek.
You’re supposed to be investigating the Kings, Potter, not going all gooey over one of them.
She has to remind herself that the Kings are the bad guys, that they believe they’re above the law. But it’s hard to think of Hawk as a bad guy. Something inside of her won’t let her believe it. Her mother had always told her that she sees the good in people, no matter what, Melissa wasn’t sure if that was a failing or a virtue. When it came to Hawk, she knew what she wanted to believe.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Melissa pulls up outside the body shop, she’s still buzzing with energy and adrenaline that she doesn’t know what to do with. She had thought that her karate class that morning would have helped her work out some of the tension and frustration from the night before, but even that hadn’t seemed to help. She’d relayed the events of the night to Ali, who had reminded her that she was working on a story and that the Caged Kings weren’t exactly the most eligible of men.
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