Chapter 16
THREE DAYS LATER
GAGE
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
The uneasiness in Bishop’s voice draws my attention from the cute one-story house we stand in front of in Metairie and over to her beside me on the sidewalk.
I raise a brow. “Should I be worried?”
She tears her gaze away from the front door and settles it on me, nervous energy bubbling out of her in a way I’ve never seen before.
When she stared down Satriano, the man who has ruined the lives of everyone she cares about and continues to be the primary source of all of their problems, she was stone cold. But facing her grandmother’s house, she seems terrified.
Genuinely shaken at the thought of going in with me.
“You’ve met the family, Gage, but you haven’t seen them in action at a Sunday family dinner. Or met Nana, for that matter.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me so I can kiss her forehead. “I have faced far scarier and more dangerous things. I think I’ll be all right.”
She shakes her head, looking up at me with trepidation. “You greatly underestimate my grandmother.”
It’s funny to see Bishop so discombobulated over dinner with her family, and the way she talks about her grandmother makes her sound like Don Corleone.
Smirking, I lean in and kiss her softly, letting my lips linger there because I won’t be able to do this once we get inside. Bishop made it very clear that there are to be no signs of affection or hints that we’re together.
“If she’s anything like you, Hellcat, then you’re right. She’s probably a force to be reckoned with.” I raise a brow. “But I managed with you, didn’t I?”
Her lips twist into a scowl, eyes narrowing on me in that way she always does when she’s gearing up for an argument. “Managed what?”
I grin, a dozen different things I could say just to set her off flickering through my mind, but I don’t want to start a fight we can’t end the way I want to—with my cock buried inside of her again like it was an hour ago.
“I’ll tell you later…”
“Later?”
The way her cheeks flush and she shifts restlessly on her feet tells me she caught on to why we wouldn’t be having that conversation now, but I start walking up the pathway toward the house just in case she decides to push it.
Her hurried footsteps follow behind until she finally catches up with me on the small front patio.
“Do we ring the doorbell?”
She shakes her head and grabs the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door in. “No need. We’re all family here. There is no privacy and no secrets.”
I highly doubt that.
Everyone has secrets.
Deep, dark ones that will never see the light of day. Some that are for good reason. Others that people keep from themselves and refuse to acknowledge.
Until a few days ago, Bishop was squarely in that category, refusing to face the fact that she was hurting herself by carrying so much responsibility and guilt that she shouldn’t have to alone.
But our breakthrough at the gym seems to have helped relieve some of that for her.
She isn’t an open book, but she’s definitely started to talk more about the stress of her job and constant concern over the rest of the Hawkes.
That’s more than I thought I’d get even a week ago.
And being invited to Sunday family dinner at Nana’s is a huge step—even if Bishop isn’t the one who extended it.
This is where it all started. Where Savage, Storm, Skye, Stone, and their sister Star, who passed away, grew up.
Where Gabe became an honorary member of the family, and where, one way or another, everyone else was brought into the fold.
This is where Savage and Gabe had the idea for The Hawkeye Club, where the empire was born.
Immediately upon stepping inside, a wave of excited chatter and multiple conversations flood the air along with the most delicious, mouth-watering smells.
I’ve already experienced the Hawkes together at the meeting at Cass and Kennedy’s house, but this is different. That dark cloud that hung over all of them then doesn’t exist here. Like this space is somehow sacred and protected from any of the turmoil the outside world throws at them.
Charlotte and Viviana run around squealing, and Giovanni, who is barely old enough to walk, crawls after them, then tries to climb to his feet, gives up, and returns to all fours to follow.
Bishop watches them, nudging the door closed behind her. “Don’t worry about the little one. Char and Vivi have him.”
I wasn’t actually worried.
Nothing I’ve seen of the Hawkes—in their businesses or their homes—suggests they’re the type to allow their children out of sight of an adult for very long—if at all.
A blond head pops out from around the corner, and Astrid smiles and waves us in. “Hey, guys. I think we’re going to eat in like, five.”
“Perfect.” Bishop leans in with an exasperated sigh. “That means less time for them to grill you pre-dinner.”
“They’re going to grill me?”
“Ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Grill is the nice way of putting it. You know all those infamous tortures used during the inquisition and the crusades?” My back stiffens, and I shift uncomfortably as she stares me down.
“Well, multiply that times ten, and that’s what it’s like to be scrutinized by the Hawkes at Sunday dinner. ”
I release a heavy breath. “Well, at least I’m prepared.”
Considering the Rangers trained us for the potential of becoming a prisoner of war, having dinner with people I already know and work with doesn’t seem like such a scary prospect.
She gives me a tight smile, backing away from me out of the foyer and toward the sounds of the rest of the family. “Or so you think…”
Well, that’s ominous…
Maybe I should have heeded her warnings, given my apology, and politely declined coming tonight. But it’s too late to regret it now.
She turns and walks away, completely abandoning me as she disappears into the room Astrid came from.
I slowly follow her, pausing in the entry hall to examine a wall of photos of all the different Hawke children and their significant others. Until I get to the final two pictures.
The only ones that are solo shots—Bishop and Astrid.
I don’t know Astrid well enough yet to speculate about why she’s still single, but I can understand why Bishop hasn’t settled down. She hasn’t allowed herself to even consider the possibility of having someone in her life like that.
The job was always the most important thing to her.
It still is.
But I hope that’s going to change.
Soon.
Caroline rounds the corner and smiles at me, and when she does, it’s easy to see how much of her is really in Bishop.
She may have followed in her father’s footsteps in terms of her interests and career, but Bishop inherited her mother’s smile and genuine beauty.
A softness. It’s just the side she keeps hidden, that she’s too afraid is going to make her look “weak” or—God forbid—“adorable” like I accused her of being.
“I’m so glad you made it!” Caroline approaches and wraps her arms around me for a hug I wasn’t expecting, then pulls back and looks up at me, the tiny woman grinning from ear to ear. “I wasn’t sure you’d come on such short notice.”
I offer a slight shrug. “I didn’t have much going on.”
I’m not about to tell her that when I received the call I was balls deep in her daughter, or that Bishop tried to steal the phone from my hand to disconnect the call when she realized what I was agreeing to.
“Come, come.”
Caroline loops her arm through mine and drags me into the living room, where half of the Hawke family sits or stands around chatting and sipping at their pre-dinner drinks.
All eyes immediately dart over to me.
A few people mutter hellos and give little waves, but I can’t help but notice that Bishop has mysteriously vanished already, along with Astrid.
“Where did your daughter go?”
Caroline waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t worry about her.
She’s probably out back with everyone else playing cards.
” She covers her mouth partially, as if she’s going to tell me a secret.
“Nana hates when they play their poker games, but truth be told, she’s the one who taught them all to play when they were little. ”
I laugh. “Sounds about right for this family.”
Caroline’s answering giggle isn’t a sound I’ve ever heard out of her daughter, and maybe I never will. “I know, right? Do you want a drink?”
I glance around at what everyone else has. “I’ll have a beer.”
She nods. “I’ll grab it from the kitchen. Hang tight.”
Abandoned in a room full of Hawkes, I take a minute to scan the warm, inviting space, taking in how relaxed and casual everyone seems—the first time I’ve ever really seen them like this.
Every day since I came on board to the security team, my interactions with any of the Hawkes have almost exclusively revolved around the continued search for the elusive Satriano, trying to hunt down Michael McDonald, looking into who could have shot Satriano’s goon, or triple-checking the security for every family member and business location.
Those conversations were clinical.
To the point and precise, like receiving military orders.
This is different.
Laughter. Smiles. Whispers that draw looks my direction and knowing grins from a few of them who clearly suspect I didn’t arrive with Bishop by chance.
Gabe makes his way over to me, arms crossed over his chest, bottle of beer in his right hand. He appears so casual in this environment, far different than when he’s in work mode. But I know under the seemingly relaxed exterior that the man who became such a legend in the Rangers still lurks.
Always alert.
Always ready to act if he needs to.
He leans against the wall beside me. “So, how are you liking working for us so far?”