“You can be as uncertain as you want, Sweet Pea, I’m certain enough for both of us. Dress. Heels. Focus. Seven thirty.”
I opened my mouth to say something but I had dead air.
I flipped my phone shut. Then I stared at it.
Then I tossed it on my desk and snapped, “God, he’s so infuriating.”
But even as I said it, I knew deep down that firstly, I was happy I had the opportunity to don one of my little black dresses and secondly, I was just a wee bit excited that I finally, finally had a date with Cabe “Hawk” Delgado.
I went back to work pretending that I wasn’t thinking that I hoped I got to ride in his Camaro.
* * * * *
It was nearly seven thirty, Dad was home and in my office watching television while Meredith was pottering around, likely rearranging all the stuff in my drawers and cupboards in the kitchen and I was in the bathroom freaking out about my date with Hawk.
This freaking out business was partly due to the fact that I was getting ready for my date with Hawk and not sticking to my guns about not going on a date with Hawk and the fact that again, I was likely making stupid choices about all things Hawk.
It was also partly due to the fact that I really, really hoped he liked my dress.
The commandos were done with my security system and I knew this because Smoke had given Meredith and me a rather long lesson on how to use it.
It seemed complicated. I’d never had an alarm system but I figured usually you punched in some numbers and presto! – security. But mine included panic buttons in my office, my bedroom, kitchen, living room and, overkill, the bathroom. It also included different codes for different types of alarms, say, windows and doors only or to activate the sensors in the house. There was also a different code that sent the message to “base” that there might be an unknown situation and they should come in “soft” whatever the hell that meant.
Neither Meredith nor I were good with remembering numbers and when Meredith ran to get a piece of paper to write them down, Smoke looked at his feet, a muscle clenched in his jaw then he herded Meredith and I into my kitchen. There, he sat us at my big, battered farm table and quizzed us on the three different codes until we memorized them.
He wasn’t really patient with this endeavor, especially when Meredith leaned into me and whispered, “I don’t understand what the big deal is, sweetie, I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you but your Dad and I, we do know you and Hawk are…” her voice dropped, “intimate.” I avoided Smoke’s eyes as Meredith went on. “I mean, it isn’t like he isn’t here looking out for you.”
I bit my lip and shrugged. I didn’t know what else to do. She thought Hawk and I were an item because Hawk was making her think we were an item and I wasn’t helping matters by playing his game. Clearly, she thought I was safe under his care. I didn’t want to mess with that. Especially not the day after her home had been firebombed because of one of her daughter’s shit.
I also didn’t want to talk with my stepmom about being intimate with anyone. Meredith was cool, she’d always been cool but she was also the only Mom I knew and she was definitely a Mom and she had been from the very beginning. You didn’t discuss sex with hot guys with your Mom, especially not super-multiple-orgasm sex.
Dad, by the way, learned the codes in about two seconds. He’d always been good with numbers. It was his way.
The doorbell chimed then clunked as I was staring into the mirror lining my lips and suddenly I felt butterflies in my stomach. The kind I felt when I first saw Hawk and the kind I’d denied feeling every time since when he visited me.
“I’ll get it!” Meredith yelled from downstairs and I sucked in breath and finished with my liner, filling in with lipstick.
Trust Hawk to press my doorbell for the first time now. I probably wouldn’t get butterflies in my stomach if he suddenly materialized in the bathroom. I’d probably get annoyed.
I ran to my room, grabbed my clutch and wrap then ran to the door and closed it a bit so I could look in the full-length mirror on the back.
Little black dress, check. In fact, it was my numero uno little black dress. The best of the lot. Sleeveless and it had a deep vee in front that showed cle**age, a way deeper one in the back and it had a blousy drape around the middle but clung like a second skin to my h*ps and the tops of my thighs were it stopped. It was way short. So short, it was almost Darla-slash-Ginger mini-jeans-skirt-short except without the skank component. And it was made of an awesome material that even on the blousy parts it caught at flesh and revealed things it was pretending it conceal. It was fabulous.
High heels, check. In fact, they were strappy sandals, black, sexy spiked heel. They made my legs look brilliant. Killer.
Hair out to there, smoky makeup.
The whole thing, the be all you could be of date apparel.
I hoped.
I rushed out of my room shouting, “See you later, Dad!”
“Have a good time, honey!” Dad shouted back. “Tell Hawk not to worry about the doorbell, I’ll fix it this weekend!”
Bonus to Dad being evacuated to my house due to smoke and fire damage. Resident handyman.
“Will do!” I yelled, though I seriously doubted Hawk was losing sleep about my clunking doorbell.