Mystery Man (The Dream Man Series Book 1)

I woke up but kept my eyes closed as I lay in my bed feeling bright, Denver sunlight against my eyelids.

Then I reached out a hand and slid it across my bed.

I was alone, Hawk was gone.

I slid my hand back, tucked both under my cheek and curled my legs into my belly as I opened my eyes.

There were people in my house, the kitchen. I knew that because my bedroom was over the kitchen and I heard low murmurs drifting up from there.

This was likely Meredith and the commandos. She was probably making them homemade donuts they would refuse to eat and regaling them with stories of my former boyfriends (none of whom, except Hawk, she actually liked but she never told me that until I’d dumped them or they’d dumped me).

Dad was probably at work. His house had been firebombed, he’d battled the blaze then he’d watched firefighters battle the blaze then he’d talked to the police then one of Hawk’s boys came in an SUV, Hawk loaded Meredith, Dad, Mrs. Mayhew and me in it and Hawk’s boy (this one who looked half-wrestler, half-giant, was named “Mo”) whisked Mrs. Mayhew to her friend Erma’s place and Dad, Meredith and me to my house. Dad had taken a shower while Meredith and I pulled out the couch in my office and made the bed. Dad and Meredith hit the sack, I hit the sack and sometime later, likely right before the break of dawn, I felt Hawk hit the sack next to me. He’d rolled into me, curled deep but I fell back to sleep before I knew whether or not he was in dreamland.

Even with all of this I suspected Dad was still at work. The entire eastern seaboard could fall into the sea and Dad would go to work then get on the phone and call all his men and ask why they were still at home, grieving over loved ones and the loss of national monuments as the country came to grips with a colossal tragedy. Then he’d tell them they should be on the site, there was work to be done.

Of course, he only had his pajama bottoms and coat but that wouldn’t stop him.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

Detective Mitch Lawson had showed last night. He’d talked to Hawk first, then Dad and Hawk, then Meredith and me. When he got to Meredith and me he mostly wanted to know if we were all right and didn’t ask probing questions. Then he’d given my arm a reassuring squeeze as he gazed into my eyes, his intense (but still soulful) then he took off.

Dog had disappeared prior to the cops and Lawson showing up. This was why Hawk didn’t come with us to my house. Hawk went to find Dog. I didn’t know why but I didn’t ask questions. I was in an extremely rare Do As I’m Told Mood so when Hawk got bossy, I didn’t give him lip. I did exactly what he ordered me to do. I got in his boy’s SUV, got my family to warmth and safety, got them settled and went to bed.

On that thought, my eyes tipped down the bed and I saw Hawk walk into the room. This surprised me. I thought he’d be out doing Hawk things, covertly gathering intel for top secret assignments, interrogating suspects in windowless rooms made of cement, beating infidels into submission, stuff like that.

It also surprised me he had on a fresh pair of Army green cargo pants and a skintight, but clean, long-sleeved burgundy tee. Guess his boys delivered changes of clothes. I wondered if they took orders and had credit at Nordstrom’s. If they did, this would be on the pro side of my Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List.

Hawk’s eyes didn’t leave me as he walked to the bed, sat on his side of it and leaned deep, his torso across the bed, his forearm in it, his face ending up close to mine.

“How you doin’, Sweet Pea?” he asked quietly.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked quietly back.

“Depends,” he answered.

Figures.

“Next time you’re in a house that’s firebombed, can you pause to put on a shirt and shoes before you sally forth into the inferno?”

I watched from close as he grinned and his dimples popped out.

Then his eyebrows went up. “Sally forth?”

“Okay, you didn’t sally, you raced. You know what I mean.”

Something about his face changed and I couldn’t put my finger on it because his eyes moved to my hair. Then he fell to his front, bracing his weight on his opposite forearm as he lifted his other hand. He ran his fingers along my hairline, down around my ear and he shifted the hair off my neck. Then his eyes came to mine.

I held my breath because they were heated and intense like at dinner last night.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he whispered and I wanted to tear my eyes from his, I really did, I just couldn’t. “You were worried about me.”

“You were fighting a fire in a pair of cargo pants,” I explained, trying to sound casual and probably failing.

His heated, black eyes held mine for a long time, so long I felt my lungs start to burn.

Then he said, “All right, next time I’m in a house that’s firebombed, I’ll put on a shirt and boots before I tackle the inferno.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

His eyes moved over my face then he asked, “Now that we got that outta the way, you wanna answer my question?”

“What question?”

“How you doin’?”

“I’m fine.”

His eyes held mine again for several long seconds before he whispered, “Liar.”

“I am,” I decreed.

“Gwen, baby, you’re curled in a protective ball again.”

Shit. I was.

I uncurled and pushed up, taking pillows with me so I could rest against my headboard. Hawk moved too, pulling himself up and in so his hip was beside mine and his weight was leaning into his hand on the other side of me.

“Is Meredith downstairs?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Is she making homemade donuts?” I asked.

“Is that a hopeful question or a serious one?” he asked in return.

I had to admit, it was hopeful, but I would only admit that to myself.

Therefore, I didn’t speak.

He grinned again and answered, “No, she’s makin’ eggs and bacon.”

Meredith made good eggs and bacon but her donuts were better.

“Do I have eggs and bacon to make?”

“Apparently, since she’s doin’ it in her nightgown and your robe and she doesn’t have a car and neither do you so it’s doubtful she went out and hit a store.”

I probably did have bacon and eggs. At least eggs, they were a standard ingredient in all kinds of cookie dough.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

“Some guy named Rick came an hour ago with a change of clothes then took your Dad to work.”

See!

“My Dad’s a nut,” I muttered.

He lifted a hand and nabbed a lock of my hair, tugging it then his hand fell while I thought that was a sweet thing to do.

Hawk could be sweet. Hawk was a cuddler. Hawk saved my life or, at least, delivered me safely out of a burning building.

All three for the pro side of the Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List.

Shit.

That was what I was thinking before he asked a question that would explain why he was being sweet.

“You want the good news or the bad news?”

Great. There was bad news.

“Can I have the good news and you tell me the bad news in the next millennium?”

“Sure,” he agreed and I didn’t think that was good.

“The bad news,” I mumbled.

His face got serious. “Ginger got away.”

My face, I was sure, got confused. “What?”

“She got away.”

“From what? The fire?”

“That and the guys who firebombed your house to smoke her out.”

Oh shit.

“They didn’t firebomb my house to kill her?”

“Babe, my car was at your curb.”

“So?”

“You think they’d think I’d let anyone in that house die?”

I crossed my arms on my chest and stared at him. “I know you’re a step down from superhero, Hawk, but seriously?”

He grinned. “You think I’m a step down from superhero?”

Oh shit! Time to cover.

“I was being facetious,” I informed him.

His grin got bigger. “No, you think I’m a step down from superhero.”

“Don’t you have good news to tell me?” I prompted in order to change the subject.

“Probably it was that night I gave you the triple orgasm,” he stayed on the current subject and my mouth dropped open.

Then I snapped it shut to ask, “What?”

“That night when I did that thing with my mouth and fingers and you –”

“I didn’t have a triple orgasm, Hawk,” I snapped but the truth was, I did.

“Babe, you did, I counted.”

“No, it was just really long,” I lied.

“Gwen, don’t you think I know when you stop comin’ and start again?”

“No, I don’t think you know,” I retorted.

“It happens enough,” he observed and he was right.

There was one for the con side of the Should I Explore Things with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado List. Hawk was arrogant.

“Hello?” I called. “Good news? Or, maybe you can tell me why Ginger getting away is bad news.”

He grinned at me then finally changed the subject.

“Ginger getting away is bad news because, I had Ginger under my thumb, I could hand her to Lawson. I didn’t get Ginger under my thumb. Instead, I tackled the inferno in your Dad’s livin’ room.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Hand her to Lawson?”

“Only safe place for her to be is with the police. She cuts a deal, they cut her jail time or, if she’s got half the shit they think she’s got, they hand her to the Feds who give her a new identity, Ginger Kidd testifies then she disappears but she does it breathin’.”

“The Feds?” I whispered.

At my whisper and possibly the terrified look on my face, Hawk’s face gentled. “Babe, you know she’s in serious shit.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, “but the Feds?”

“Her shit is serious,” he repeated with variation.

I looked at my lap and whispered, “Damn.”

Hawk lifted my head with his thumb and finger at my chin until my eyes met his, he dropped his hand and went on. “I had her under my thumb, they wouldn’t have made a play for her. They wanted to smoke her out and get me occupied. They succeeded in that.”

“She was only there a few minutes. Did they have enough time to conceive and execute this dire plan?”

“They’re resourceful.”

That wasn’t good news.

“But she got away,” I finished.

“She got away,” Hawk affirmed.

“And Dog?” I asked.

“Found him. He’s allergic to the police so he took off. He arrived after the fire started, doin’ a drive-by, keepin’ an eye on you for Tack. He didn’t see anything, not even Ginger or she’d be at the Chaos compound right about now.”

“Keeping an eye on me for Tack?”

His look shifted to unhappy. “Told you, babe, you do not want Tack’s attention but you got it.”

“I got it, I know, but I don’t get it. Why was Dog doing a drive-by?”

“Tack’s orders, keepin’ you safe.”

I stared at him.

Then I breathed, “Keeping me safe?”

He stared back at me.

Then he asked, “Babe, seriously?”

“I met him once,” I reminded Hawk.

“Twice,” Hawk reminded me.

“Okay, twice,” I amended.

“Yeah,” Hawk agreed.

“So, I don’t get it. I barely know him. Why would he send Dog out to keep an eye on me?”

Hawk stared at me again then he repeated, “Babe, seriously?”

I threw up my hands and straightened in the bed, crossing my legs under me. “Yes, Hawk, seriously. What is up with that?”

His eyes narrowed before he asked, “Do you remember our conversation last night?”

Uh-oh.

“Which one?” I asked hesitantly.

“The one where I told you I clocked you before I even walked into the restaurant where you were sittin’, entertaining every man in the room.”

“I wasn’t entertaining every man in the room!” I snapped.

“Babe, you were.”

“Was not.”

“You were.”

I leaned in a bit. “Was not.”

“Sweet Pea, you were flippin’ your hair, fidgeting on your stool, suckin’ straws but just your laugh is enough to make a man’s dick get hard.”

Another con. Sort of. I mean, all that stuff I was doing for him and I was certainly glad to know, after all this time, he noticed but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

And it was nice he liked my laugh.

Moving on.

“And this has to do with Tack…?” I prompted.

“Are you not seein’ the pattern here?”

“Uh… no.”

“Were you not in your yard yesterday with Lawson, Tack and me?”

Uh-oh.

“I was there,” I snapped.

“And were not in your livin’ room when your boy Troy showed?”

Hmm. I was seeing his point.

“That doesn’t count, I’ve known Troy –”

Hawk cut me off. “Counts for him.”

He was probably right.

Hawk continued. “Counts for me.”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “Can you get to the point?”

“The point is, you’re the kind of woman whose furnace breaks down, she calls you, you haul your ass over to her house to fix it, even if you’re in the middle of a game.”

Oh shit. That had happened. It was right in the middle of a Broncos game when I called Troy.

God, I hated it that Hawk knew everything about me.

Another con!

“And you’re also the kind of woman who a man sees curled in a protective ball, he’s moved to do what he can to make certain that doesn’t happen again.”

I felt my eyes get squinty. “Is that why you’re here?”

He shook his head. “I’m here ‘cause when you come, you come hard, you don’t hold back but you do hold on and you do it tight. I’m here because when you call me baby in this bed, I feel it in my dick. And I’m here because you don’t hesitate throwing attitude when every other woman I know doesn’t have the guts to say boo to me. Seein’ you scared and wantin’ to do something about it was just an extra reason that made me want to be here.”

I had no response to that so I didn’t make one.

Instead, I said, “And Tack?”

“The attitude, babe, you threw a hissy fit in Ride and not a lotta women surrounded by members of the Chaos MC would rant about her sister and Barbies and a fuckin’ TV show.”

My eyes got squintier. “How do you know this shit?”

“I got eyes on Ride, Sweet Pea, I watched the whole show and you leak that to Tack I will not be happy.”

This surprised me. “You have eyes on Ride?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you have eyes on Ride?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

This was true. Not only did I not need to know, I didn’t want to know.

“Okay, you made your point,” I told him. “Can we get on to the good news?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The good news is, the fire was contained to the living room. My brother works for the DFD; he’s been to the scene this morning and reports your laptop is all right.”

He had a brother? He had a mother who was a nut who named him a somewhat unusual but definitely cool name and a brother who was a firefighter?

I was finding it difficult to process all this information coming at me – a year and a half and nothing but nocturnal visits and multiple orgasms and now all of this.

“You have a brother?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Do you have any other siblings?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“What? A sister? Brother? Two? Twelve?” I pressed.

“Another brother,” he answered.

Good God. There were three Italian, Cuban, Puerto Rican male Delgados roaming the earth. How did I not know this? As a woman, I should have instinctually felt their presence.

“Where are you?” I continued my interrogation.

“What?” he asked.

“In the lineup, where are you? Firstborn, middle, last?”

“First.”

Shit, no wonder he was bossy. The firstborn of three boys.

“Babe, did you hear what I said about your laptop?” Hawk called.

I blinked and looked at him.

Then I asked, “What are their names? Falcon and Eagle?”

His dimples popped out then he shared, “My name is Falcon.”

“Your name is Hawk.”

“No, babe, my middle name. Falcone.”

I blinked again. “Your middle name is Falcone?”

“I told you my mother was a nut.”

“What is that? Italian?”

“Yep.”

“So what are your brother’s names?”

“Von and Jury.”

Jeez. His mother was a nut.

“Did your Dad have no input into the naming of his children?”

The dimples deepened. “He strapped her with three boys, Sweet Pea, she wanted girls. She married my Dad, three boys from his seed, she knew she was in for a lifetime of fights, blood, drunkenness, puke and pregnancy scares. That’s what she got. Layin’ that shit on her, he wasn’t gonna fight her on names.”

He needed to stop. He was freaking me out. This was TMI. Major TMI.

“TMI,” I muttered, staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Too much information, Hawk.”

“Babe, we’re all in our thirties. Von is married. We grew up, learned control and to be smart. The drunkenness, puke and pregnancy scares are history.”

He’d left out the fights and blood.

Then something came to me. “You don’t use protection with me.”

“I did the first few times.”

This was true, he did.

“But –”

“Rifled through your shit, saw your birth control pills. Put you on radar, saw you shared that body with no one but me, decided it was unnecessary.”

My eyes got squinty again. “You rifled through my shit?”

“Gwen, baby, clue in. I was makin’ you mine. When I make a woman mine, I do my homework.”

I stared at him, uncertain what this meant and deciding for sanity’s sake not to ask.

Then I mumbled, “I need a homemade donut,” because I did. I needed three. Then I needed to get my ass to the mall. I felt another little black dress coming on.

I was interrupted in my plan of attack on the mall when Hawk plucked me out of bed, twisted me, I landed on my back and was pressed into the mattress by his weight.

“See you’re gettin’ stressy,” he muttered, his eyes scanning my face, his hands skimming my body.

Mm.

“My childhood home was firebombed last night and I don’t know what to do about you. Of course I’m getting stressy.”

His face disappeared in my neck and he murmured in my ear, “I can teach you better ways to deal with stress than downin’ donuts.”

I knew this to be true since he’d already expended a fair amount of effort on those lessons. Except for stressing out about why I was letting him visit me, after a night with him my body felt like I’d received a one and a half hour full body massage at the hands of a master while in a steam room.

I put my hands to his shoulders and exerted pressure, saying, “My stepmom and your commandos are in the kitchen.”

His head came up and he looked down at me, his eyes warm and my belly got squishy. “We’ll be quick and quiet,” he whispered.

He could be quick? He’d never been quick before. He was a man who took his time and he did this in a good way.

“I can’t have sex in a house that Meredith is in. And I can’t have sex with you because I haven’t decided what to do about you.”

I wasn’t paying attention so when his hands met the hem of my nightshirt then went in and up, the warmth of them light on my skin made me shiver.

“How about I help you decide,” he offered then his head dipped and his lips slid across my jaw and that felt nice, coupled with his hands still moving on me, I did another shiver.

I pulled myself together. “No, I need to make the decision on my own. I’m compiling a mental pros and cons list of whether I should explore things with you.”

His head came up, his lips in a minor grin but the dimples were there. One of his hands stilled but the other one came out of my nightshirt, lifted and ran along my hairline.

“What you got?” he whispered.

“You’re bossy, arrogant, intrusive, annoying and you crushed Troy like a bug without thought or remorse. Those are cons,” I shared honestly.

His minor grin amplified.

See! Totally unrepentant.

“Oh, and you don’t listen to me,” I added.

More grinning then, “Do I have anything going for me?”

“On the very rare occasion you can be sweet, you’re a cuddler and you carried me out of a burning building. Those are the pros.”

“I’m a cuddler?”

“You spoon.”

His brows went up. “That’s important enough to put on your list?”

“Uh… yeah.”

He stared at me, grinning nearly at a smile then he noted, “Fuckin’ ridiculous what women think is important.”

My eyes got squinty and I snapped, “Con!”

The grin became a smile when he whispered, “You forgot a pro, baby.”

“No,” I corrected. “So far, that list is exhaustive.”

His hand in my nightshirt moved up and the warmth of it cupped my breast. I sucked in air and stilled, then melted and let out the air on a quiet gasp when the skin of his palm slid across my nipple.

“Definitely a pro,” he muttered while watching my face then his head dropped and he kissed me. This was a triple threat because his tongue in my mouth, his hand at my breast (now with thumb action that was nice) and his hard, heavy body pinning mine to the bed was irresistible.

He was right, definitely a pro.

His mouth released mine, his thumb stopped its brilliant torture and his fingers cupped my breast and I found my fingers curled around the back of his head, my other arm tight around his back and one of my calves had moved to hook around the back of his thigh.

I was gazing up at him firm in the knowledge that I wanted to discover quick when he grinned and his warm hand gave my breast a firm squeeze.

“See what I mean, baby?” he whispered. “Definitely pro.”

I blinked. Then I stiffened.

Then I stated, “And see what I mean, baby? Definitely arrogant.”

He did that manly, deep, amused chuckle, dipped his head, kissed the indentation at the base of my throat, his hand disappeared from my breast and he rolled off me, taking me with him. We were on our feet beside the bed, his arms around me, before I could blink.

“You need to work, get shit done,” he declared. “Tonight I need you focused.”

“On what?” I asked.

His face got closer and his arms got tighter. “On me.”

Oh boy.

“My parents are staying here,” I reminded him.

“I got a place,” he reminded me.

His lair. Hmm. Another shiver which he felt and I knew it because it caused him to grin another grin.

His arms gave me a squeeze. “Work, then tonight I add to the right side of your list.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I should make my decision without my mind muddled by his superhuman sexual powers but I didn’t get a word out. His head bent, his mouth touched mine and then, poof! he was gone.

I swayed a second without his strong arms around me and his solid body to rest against. Then I turned to stare at the bedroom door.

Then I muttered, “I hate it when he does that.”

But I didn’t. If I was honest, I thought it was cool.