Mystery Man(135)

Our relationship wasn’t easy. It wasn’t mellow. It wasn’t comfortable and sedate. He was too bossy and I was too much of a smartass. We bantered and sometimes we fought. But I’d learned I was completely unable to endure Hawk being mad at me and then I’d noticed that Hawk felt the same. No grudges were ever held. We created sparks but those sparks never caught the kind of fire that could do damage. Instead, we got over it and moved on.

And I liked this. This was good. I liked him in my space and I liked to be in his. I had sweet pea lotion and bath wash at his. My own stick of deodorant was in his medicine cabinet. He had one in mine, it stood next to his razor. I’d bought a sweet frame for Simone and Sophie and at the same time I bought two more. One had a picture of Hawk and me that Tracy took at Leo’s birthday party. I was pressed against Hawk’s side, my arms around him, my head tipped back, my nose pressed to his jaw and I was laughing. Hawk had his arm around my shoulders and he was looking slightly down and to the side, also laughing. That picture was on Hawk’s fridge. The other frame was on mine and it had a picture in it that Elvira took. We were walking through the surveillance room at his base, my arm curled around his back, his around my shoulders. Hawk’s head was turned to the side and he was looking at and listening to Jorge. I was looking over my shoulder at Elvira and laughing at something she said. I loved that photo, I didn’t know why, maybe the fact it was a candid that captured the casual way we were together, holding each other, walking together, Hawk’s profile so handsome, my face looking happy. And, of course, I was having a really good hair day.

He couldn’t sell the warehouse. We were settled. We had a system. We had a way that was our way.

And where would we set up the air hockey table (when he bought it)?

“You’re thinking of selling?” I asked.

“Yeah, they got that kind of cake, they want it so they’ll offer more. They offer more, seriously, babe, be a fool not to.”

“But I thought you liked the warehouse. I thought you needed space. There’s not a lot of places you can get that kind of space, Cabe.”

“Findin’ I don’t need that kind of space anymore, Sweet Pea, and you can’t raise kids in a place like that.”

I sucked in so much air it was a wonder Hawk didn’t immediately pass out due to lack of oxygen.

“Gwen?” he called.

“Kids?” I choked.

He was silent. So was I mostly because I was struggling for breath as visions of dark-haired, dimple-faced baby commandos wearing miniature cargo pants danced through my head.

Finally he muttered, “Fuck.”

“Fuck what?” I asked.

“Shit, babe, saw you with Crisanto and Javier, thought you liked kids.”

“I –”

“Thought you liked ‘em so much, you’d want ‘em.”

“I –”

“Fuck, Gwen.”

“Fuck what?” My voice was rising mainly because I was freaking out but also because he wasn’t letting me talk.

He pulled to the side of the road, stopped, turned to me and his eyes caught mine.

Then he muttered again, “Fuck.”

“Fuck what!” I almost shouted.

“It isn’t a good time to talk about this.”

“Hawk, you need –”

“It’s your parents’ anniversary.”

“Hawk!” I snapped. “You need to tell me what’s flipping you out.”

“I want kids.”

I stared at him, my heart beating so hard I could swear my dress fluttered.

He wasn’t saying he wanted kids as much as he was saying he wanted kids with me.

I mean, he wanted kids, but he was saying he wanted kids with me.

Cabe “Hawk” Delgado wanted kids with me!

Yay!

Oh shit. I was going to start crying and ruin my makeup.

“It’s important to me, baby,” he said softly.

I swallowed. Then I asked, “How many do you want?”

“Two or three.”

“Boys or girls?”

“Don’t care.”

I didn’t either. I didn’t care. I didn’t care at all.

My vision went blurry as my mind filled with Hawk holding our child and feeding it a bottle.

Then my belly got squishy.

Then I felt his knuckles glide down my cheek and I refocused when he said quietly, “I’d be happy with one, Gwen.”

“Only children can get spoiled. You have to have at least two. Siblings are important. And if we start with two boys, we have to have a girl because brothers should have a sister. But if we start with two girls, we have to go for a boy because sisters should have a brother. I always wanted a brother. A son of my father would have been able to beat the shit out of boyfriends that broke my heart. I wouldn’t have had to resort to cookie dough and it would have saved Scott a lot of money in divorce attorneys, seeing as he’d still be in a coma.”