“What I want, Kate,” he declared, “is for you to feel comfortable with me, and I figured you would here.” He smiled, then added, “With Vic to defend you.”
“Right,” Vic drawled, leading them to the same corner table for two that Hawk had been given a few days before. “As if I could defend her against you. I’m a chef, not a warrior.”
“Cute. You’re the one who works with knives.” Hawk shot Vic a wry look as he held a chair for Kate. “Wine?” he asked, folding his long body onto the chair opposite her.
Pondering their odd exchange, Kate nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She glanced at Vic. “What do you recommend with the meal? White or red?”
“White for you,” Vic said. “I think nothing too dry, nothing too sweet. You’re both at my mercy with the meal tonight.”
Hawk smiled dryly. “Right. I’ll have the red. Room temperature.
“You know each other very well, don’t you?” Kate said as Vic retreated to his kitchen.
“Hmm.” Hawk nodded, taking a sip of his water. “We roomed together at college.”
“Did you serve in the military?” Her question, seemingly coming out of nowhere, brought his eyebrows together in a brief frown.
“Yeah, after college I served in the air force. What made you ask that?”
Kate shrugged. “Vic called you a warrior, so I assumed that’s what he was referring to.”
His brows smoothed as he gave a soft chuckle. “I flew a Black Hawk chopper, but that wasn’t what Vic was referring to,” he said. “The warrior reference was to my heritage. You see, my father is Scottish, but my mother was a full-blooded Apache Indian.”
“Was?”
“Yes, my mother died giving birth to my younger sister, Catriona.” His smile was bittersweet. “I was two and never got to know her. All I have of her are pictures of her lovely face.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said, at a loss for any other words of sympathy.
The bitter tinge vanished, leaving only the sweet. “Kate, it was a long time ago. I’m thirty-six years old. Though I’d have loved to have gotten to know her, I’m over it.”
Somehow Kate doubted his assurance, but she didn’t push. “Catriona. That’s different,” she said, changing the subject.
“It’s Scottish for Catherine.”
“What about your father?”
“He, with help from my mother’s parents, raised me and Cat. After college I joined the air force. And after Cat graduated two years later, she moved to New York, and then Dad moved back to Scotland, where he owns several business holdings.” A server appeared and Hawk took his glass. “He and his second wife raise Irish wolfhounds.”
“Oh,” Kate said. “They’re really big and kind of mean, aren’t they?”
Hawk’s head was shaking before she finished. “They are big, but certainly not mean. I have one. His name’s Boyo, and he’s a pussycat.” He hesitated before clarifying. “Of course, he can get ferocious if I’m in any way threatened. The breed is very protective of his people.”
Kate had to laugh. “His people?”
“Oh, yeah.” He laughed with her. “Boyo believes I belong to him.”
They grew quiet when their meal was served, enjoying the sumptuous dinner Vic had prepared for them.
“Dessert? Coffee?” Hawk asked when they had both finished eating.
Kate shook her head. “No thank you. I’m too full for even coffee.”
“Good.” Hawk drew a quick breath. “It’s nice here, but…” He took another breath. “I have tickets for a show on the strip. Would you like to go?”
Kate was quiet a moment, stilled by a little flicker inside, a combination of anxiety and expectation. As she had before, she drew a quick breath and made a quick decision. “Yes, thank you. I would.”
Hawk shot a look at his watch, pushed back his chair and circled around the table to slide Kate’s chair back for her to rise.
“We’d better leave. It’s after nine and the show starts at ten.” Hawk waved for their server. He said, “Check, please,” when the server hurried over.
“No check,” the server said. “Vic said this meal is on the house.”
“Tom, you tell Vic I said he’s a sweetie,” Kate said, smiling as the young man’s cheeks flushed.
After quick goodbyes to Bella, they exited the restaurant.
Chapter Three
Taking Kate’s elbow, Hawk steered her to the first parking space in the parking lot. Noting the makeshift Reserved sign tied to the light pole in one corner of the lot, Kate raised an eyebrow and looked up at him.
Hawk grinned at her. “It’s good to be the king,” he declared quoting from an old Mel Brooks movie.
The car he guided her to was midsize. After she was seated, Kate watched, a slight smile on her lips, as he crammed his long body into the seat behind the wheel. Settled in, he slanted a look at her.
“This king needs a bigger carriage.”
“You do appear a bit cramped in that seat.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You have no idea.” He heaved a put-upon sigh. “At home I drive a big-boy truck, with a large seat and lots of legroom.”
“This car is easier to fit into a parking space,” she said.
“Granted, but…” He smiled at her, smugly, as he started the engine. “I don’t have to park it. I’m going valet.” He paused an instant before adding in a gotcha tone, “So there.”
Kate lost it. Her laughter poured out of her with genuine amusement. She couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed so hard, with such ease. It was even better that Hawk was laughing right along with her.
As promised, he drove them to the valet parking at one of the casino hotels. The show, by a comedian Kate had never heard of before, was in one of the smaller entertainment rooms. The room was already full when they were escorted to their table just ahead of the burst of applause as the comedian strolled onto the stage.
The man wasn’t merely funny; he was hilarious., .and he worked clean. He didn’t tell jokes. He told life, everyday things that just about every person in the room could relate to and appreciate.
The few times Kate shifted a quick glance at Hawk during the show, she found him laughing, too. One time he winked at her.
A simple wink, and yet it made Kate feel warm all over. Silly woman, she chided herself.
Now, the show over, Kate moved to get up. Hawk stopped her with a shake of his head. “Want to go into the casino, play awhile before we leave?” he asked.
Kate hesitated. Then, remembering this was one of Jeff’s favorite gambling sites, she shook her head. “Not tonight. I hurt from laughing,” she said, smiling at him to soften her refusal. “He was very funny.”
“Yes, he was,” Hawk agreed, leading her outside. He handed over his parking ticket to the valet before adding, “And you’re a lousy liar.”
Kate opened her mouth, but before she could utter a protest, he said, “No insult intended.”
“What would you call that remark?” Kate didn’t attempt to conceal her annoyance.
The valet area was crowded with people waiting