Mystery Man

  “You live in an old warehouse,” I pointed out the obvious.

  “Yeah,” he agreed to the obvious.

  “This is a lot of space, Hawk.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “A lot of space,” I went on.

  He grinned then took a sip of coffee. I did the same.

  When his mug came away from his lips, he stated, “Don’t like close. Need room.”

  Interesting.

  “Well, you’ve got it.”

  He grinned again, put down his coffee mug, took mine from my hand, put that down too and then moved into me at the front, his hands sliding around at my waist to my back, wrapping around and pulling me to him.

  I rested my hands on his chest and looked up.

  “You’re cute in the morning,” he told me.

  “I am?” I asked.

  “Cute and sweet.”

  “Mm,” I mumbled, glad he thought that but I’d always been a morning person. I was a night person too. I was an anytime person when I wasn’t stressy and in a bad mood.

  One of his hands left my back and I watched his eyes get heated and intense as they studied my face.

  Then he did something beautiful, something amazing, something that, if I’d had any doubts as to my certainty, they would have disintegrated.

  He tenderly slid the backs of his knuckles against the skin of my cheek while he muttered, “A year and a half. Totally fuckin’ missed out.”

  My belly went squishy.

  Yep, definitely certain.

  “Hawk,” I whispered and his hand cupped my jaw.

  “How much work did you get done?”

  “What?”

  “You were relaxed last night, not stressed, you good with work?”

  “Um…” I mumbled not wanting to think about work or life or anything, wanting instead to just live this real daydream.

  Hawk continued. “I gotta go do something this morning, boys’ll be here in a few minutes and I want you here when I come back.”

  I stared into his eyes.

  Oh my God.

  Yay! He wanted me at his lair when he came back!

  My mind shifted to work.

  Oh shit.

  Boo! I needed to get home and hit it.

  I melted into him and my hands slid up his chest to his neck.

  “One of my deadlines is today. I’m close to finished but I still need to get some work done.” His arm squeezed me and I continued and I did it in a quiet, slightly scared, slightly hopeful voice but my decision was made and my decision was about him so I figured he should know it even though it scared the freaking shit out of me. “I want to be here when you get back, baby, but I always make my deadlines. It’s a promise I give my clients and –”

  “Babe,” he cut me off, “it’s cool.”

  “I do want to be here,” I restated to make sure he got it but I did it on a whisper.

  His hand at my jaw tilted my head back further as his dipped closer to mine. “I’m gettin’ that, Sweet Pea,” he whispered back, “and I like it.”

  He got it. And he liked it.

  I licked my lips and nodded.

  He touched his lips to mine then lifted his head an inch and said, “I gotta go with the boys. I’ll call Fang, you take your time, get dressed, shower, get some food, whatever you wanna do. He’ll be here in thirty minutes, take you home. I’ll leave a key for you, take it. The security code is three, three, six, four. When you’re done, come back.”

  “Okay,” I agreed readily.

  His arm around me pulled me closer and his hand at my jaw slid back into my hair as I watched his eyes grow hot.

  “We’re passed due, babe. Definitely. Even more since I had to watch you last night in that dress and those shoes and then you passed out practically naked in my bed before we got to play. Plan for an energetic evening.”

  Wow.

  “Okay,” I breathed it this time and again I did it readily.

  He smiled a smile that, with his eyes hot on me and his body close, I saw was hungry.

  Yum.

  My fingers glided over his hair and put on pressure as I lifted up on my toes and my eyes dropped to his lips.

  Therefore I watched them form the words in a mutter, “Totally missed out.”

  Then he kissed me, hot, hard, with tongues and his hand at my ass pulled my hips into his as I held on and my legs and insides turned liquid.

  He broke the kiss on what sounded like a frustrated growl and I liked that so much, it made me press closer and when I did, his mouth touched mine then came back then again and then his teeth nipped my lower lip.

  Um… nice.

  “Hawk,” I whispered, still holding on.

  “Baby, let go, you don’t, I lose a client and no more fancy shoes.”

  I considered this, weighing shoes against sex with Hawk in his cavernous lair.

  Then I kept holding on.

  He smiled, his arm giving me a squeeze, his mouth touching mine again then he let me go and stepped back. I moved to lean against the bar in an effort to hold myself up and he lifted a hand and ran the side of his index finger along the skin under my chin.

  Um… nice!

  “Later,” he promised.

  “’Kay,” I replied.

  His hand moved to my neck and gave it a squeeze then he moved away, dug in a drawer, pulled out a key which he dropped to the counter and then he strode to the stairs. I watched until he made it to the top and then I grabbed my coffee, sipped at it and watched some more as he opened and shut drawers on his dresser and the wardrobe and got dressed.

  I heard the vehicles outside as he was sitting on the bed putting on his boots and me and my coffee mug wandered to the stairs as he came down them. He hooked me with an arm at my shoulders, guided me to the door under the bed platform, through it to another cavernous space that held his Camaro, a black SUV, a motorcycle under a cover and still there was enough space to park my car, my Dad’s car and a motor home.

  He grabbed a box which hung from a cable and had two, big, round red buttons on it. He pressed one, the colossal door slid up, cold from the outside assaulted me but I only minutely felt it as he walked me to the end of the building, turned me to him, I succeeded in evasive maneuvering with my coffee mug right before he laid another hot, wet one on me.

  He lifted his head and muttered, “Energetic.”

  “Gotcha,” I replied, he grinned then I watched him prowl to one of three SUVs, seeing one of his commandos had jumped from the driver’s seat and was rounding the vehicle to get in on the other side as Hawk took the wheel.

  I stood there in the cold, in his shirt, carrying a shiny, midnight blue coffee mug, completely unembarrassed because I was completely happy in my real life daydream and I waved the commandos off as they drove away.

  None of them waved back though I got a couple grins and one amused head shake.

  Then I grabbed the box, hit the button, the big door groaned down and I re-entered Hawk’s lair.

  * * * * *

  I was on the bed platform making Hawk’s bed when it happened.

  The phone rang and, obviously, I ignored it.

  Then the answering machine on one of the heavy, dark wood nightstands clicked on. An electronic voice asked the caller to leave a message then the caller left a message.

  The minute I heard her voice, I froze mid-pillow-fluffing.

  “Hawk?” Hesitant. Probing but unsure. “Honey, I hope everything’s okay. You didn’t show last night. I’m Thursday.” Pause. “I hope you don’t mind me calling.” Still hesitant. “But I’m worried. Um…” Pause. “Call me, okay?” Another pause then hurriedly, “Just so I know you’re all right.” Pause again then, “Um… okay, um… bye.”

  There was a buzz because she’d hung up and then silence.

  I stood there, pillow in hand, staring at the answering machine, something unpleasant sifting through my stomach.

  She was Thursday?

  Thursday?

  What t
he hell did that mean?

  She was Thursday. Yesterday was Thursday. She was expecting a visit from Hawk.

  She was Thursday.

  That something in my stomach slid up my gullet, filled my mouth and it tasted of acid.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Filler

  Fang idled at the curb while I did my walk of shame up to my house. It really wasn’t a walk of shame but no one seeing me in the daylight hours in a little black dress and fabulous shoes would know that.

  Fang, I found to my fortune, was not a master communicator. This was good and bad because this meant I could slide into my head and stay there the whole way from Hawk’s lair. This was good because I needed to be in my head to sort my shit out and this was bad because I didn’t want to be in my head and because I couldn’t figure out how to sort my shit.

  I opened the door and saw Meredith, Camille, Tracy and Mrs. Mayhew all sitting on my furniture and drinking coffee at the left side of my living room. The furniture had been uncovered, the floors had been swept, the mist of dust on all surfaces had disappeared. The renovation equipment had vanished. The right side of the living room was just as tidy but it was empty. A peek through the glass doors to my once empty den showing it was now storage for tools, tubes, cans and equipment. The walls still needed to be re-skimmed, the floors refinished, the fireplace mantels stripped and redone and the light fixtures replaced but at least it looked like a living room

  Jeez. It was ten o’clock. Meredith had been busy.

  I stared at them and I loved them. I loved them all. And I loved that Meredith made my living room look like a living room.

  But I wanted cookie dough. Aloneness and cookie dough.

  No, I needed aloneness and cookie dough.

  Like, a lot.

  “Hey,” I called.

  “Have a good night?” Meredith beamed.

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “That’s a pretty dress,” Mrs. Mayhew complimented.

  “Thanks, Mrs. M,” I replied walking in thinking she was being so Mrs. M, saying I was wearing a pretty dress when I’d walked into my house in the clothes I’d worn the night before which everyone knew screamed slut!

  “Heard you got a hot one on your hook,” she remarked, smiling at me huge.

  Well, I thought so but I was worried I was on his hook.

  “Um…” I mumbled again.

  “You okay?” Cam asked, looking at me closely.

  “Um…” I mumbled yet again.

  All female eyes focused intently on me as it appeared I was incapable of speech.

  Then Cam moved.

  “Right,” she said smartly, jumping up from the couch. “Shower, yoga pants, let’s go!” she ordered and clapped her hands, coming to me, bustling me to the stairs and up them, right to my bathroom.

  I turned at the bathroom door and looked at her. Cam was my height, all legs and booty, minor cleavage that wasn’t much to write home about but it didn’t matter because she was flat out, heart stopping gorgeous. Big almond eyes, full lips, fabulous cheekbones, elegant jaw, perfectly arched brows. She was the exotic, African American yin to Tracy’s girl next door yang. This used to give me a complex, seeing as my two best friends were akin to catwalk models let loose on society but I learned to control my feelings of inferiority through copious imbibing of cosmos and shopping for fantastic clothes I could don that would build my confidence whenever I went out with them.

  “Cam,” I said.

  “You’re freaked,” she replied reading me, as usual, like a book.

  Not, of course, that I was being mysterious.

  “Something happened,” I told her. “Well, a lot of somethings happened but –”

  “Shower, babe, I’ll make a fresh pot and meet you in your office with Tracy. You got fifteen minutes.” Then she turned and walked to the stairs.

  There were a lot of things about Cam I loved but being me, and allowing my life to careen out-of-control occasionally, one of the best of them was her ability to control a situation and be decisive.

  I did as I was told and in yoga pants, camisole and zip up hoodie with wet hair, I met Cam and Tracy in my office.

  Tracy handed me a mug of joe.

  I took it and my eyes slid to Cam. “How’d you ditch Meredith and Mrs. M?”

  This I knew was a feat. Meredith was the only Mom I knew and she worried about me even though I was thirty-three and even when there wasn’t anything to worry about. Mrs. M was Grandma to me and every kid on the block, be they thirty-three, three, or sixty-three. If you were younger than her, she was your Grandma and nearly everyone I knew was younger than her except her friend Erma who evidence was suggesting was dating Father Time.

  “I didn’t have to,” Cam answered. “Mrs. M is going with Meredith to her house to meet the insurance guy. But I did have to promise a full briefing.”

  “You aren’t giving a full briefing,” I declared, sitting in my office chair and taking a sip of coffee.

  “Of course not,” she muttered.

  “What’s with the face?” Tracy asked and I looked at her.

  “What face?”

  “Your face,” she replied. “You look… I don’t know how you look. I thought the date went great. Last night I got twelve texts about how great the date went. Now you don’t look like the date went great.”

  My eyes slid to the window. “It did.”

  “So?” Cam prompted and my eyes slid to her.

  “Thursday called,” I answered, Cam’s eyes closed slowly but Tracy’s expression shifted to confused.

  I stared at Cam. Cam knew something.

  “Thursday called?” Tracy asked.

  I ignored her.

  “Cam?” I called, her eyes opened and a light shone in them, a sad light, an unhappy light. “Cam,” I whispered.

  “You told me you two were over,” she said softly.

  This was true.

  “Thursday called?” Tracy repeated, sounding impatient and I looked at her.

  “Great date, the best, better than my wildest dreams. He was into me, he was interested in everything I said, he was funny, he bought me Jimmy Choos,” I told her and her eyes lit up.

  “I know, his lady, Elvira, who’s hilarious by the way, she swore me to secrecy but I thought that was so cool! Totally generous. I offered my discount but she said no. Just handed over a company credit card. Awesome!” Tracy ended on a cry and a bounce on the couch.

  “Yeah, awesome, until Thursday called,” I replied and Tracy looked confused again.

  “What’s up with Thursday?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered then looked at Cam. “But you do, don’t you?”

  Camille’s eyes held mine. Then she sighed.

  Then she spoke. “Cabe ‘Hawk’ Delgado is on the grid,” she stated. “In fact, he’s so on the grid, he’s all over the grid. There’s some mystery and a lot of speculation about his activities but he’s Mr. Grid. If it’s happening in Denver, he knows about it and speculation says that sometimes he’s in on it though no one knows how. Also, no one knows exactly what he does, or all that he does, they just know he’s a busy guy.”

  I already guessed this and, at that point, I didn’t care about this.

  So I prompted, “And?”

  She pulled in breath, that breath that said she was preparing me for something not so fun.

  Then she started to give me the not so fun. “One thing that doesn’t have any mystery when it comes to Delgado is His Days.”

  “His Days?” Tracy repeated.

  Cam nodded at her. “Otherwise known as His Women.”

  “Shit,” Tracy muttered, her eyes cutting to me but my eyes stayed glued to Cam as I struggled to breathe.

  Then I choked out, “Talk to me.”

  Cam pressed her lips together then she said, “Girl, I’m so sorry.”

  I felt a tingly sensation in my throat and it wasn’t the same happy one as last night.

  “Talk to me, Cam,” I whispe
red.

  Another breath then Cam stated, “Okay, Delgado is known to claim women. He does this and slots them into a schedule. They come and go but while they’re there, they’re claimed. He investigates them and it’s made clear no one goes near them. When he’s done with them, he’s done, one moves out, he moves another one in.”

  “This can’t be,” I told her. “I don’t have a day.”

  Cam swallowed. Not a good sign.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Girl –” she started.

  I leaned forward and repeated. “What?”

  “You’re known as Filler.”

  Oh my God.

  “I’m known as Filler?” I whispered.

  She nodded. “He’s feeling like a switch up, or one of his women is out of town or he’s got a slot open he hasn’t filled yet, he comes to you.”

  “I’m known as Filler,” I repeated.

  “Honey –” Tracy whispered.

  “Who knows me as Filler?” I asked Cam

  “Um…” she hesitated then said, “everyone now.”

  “Everyone now,” I repeated.

  She nodded.

  “Lawson?”

  She bit her lip and nodded again.

  Oh my God!

  “Tack?” I asked.

  “Probably,” Cam answered.

  I looked to the floor. Then it hit me and I looked back at Cam.

  “She knew,” I stated.

  “What, babe?” Cam asked.

  “Thursday, she knew. She knew what she was, who she was, her day. She knew his name she knew his number.”

  “Well, um –” Cam started.

  I cut her off. “I guess if you get a guaranteed slot you get his contact details. But Filler, now Filler is just filler.”

  “Gwennie, sweetie,” Tracy whispered.

  I shot out of my chair and shouted, “I don’t believe this!”

  Camille and Tracy shot up too.

  “Gwen, babe, listen to me. The talk now is he’s off routine. This shit with His Days, it is for them what it was for you, night visits, stringent boundaries. He doesn’t date them, he just sleeps with them.”

  “So?” I yelled, crashing my mug to my desk, coffee sloshing over.

  “So, this is good, you’ve broken through,” Tracy put in quickly and, as ever with my dear, sweet Trace, hopefully.