Page 13 of Cryptic Curse (Bellamy Brothers #7)

DANIELA

G od help me, even the way Hawk picks up a plate is hot.

He stands up from the table, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like sigh out loud. He’s tall—stupidly tall—the kind of tall that makes you wonder how ceilings don’t bend for him. And those eyes? Not just blue—sharp , ice-cut, sun-over-the-ocean blue.

He flashes a half-smile. God, that smile .

It’s all slow charm and unspoken trouble, framed by that raven-black hair that somehow manages to look both tousled and intentional.

Like he woke up that perfect and didn’t even try.

Now he’s picking up dishes, his big hands careful, the muscles in his forearms flexing just enough to make me lose track of every coherent thought I’ve ever had.

Savannah’s still chatting behind me, but I’m only half-listening. Mostly, I’m just watching Hawk move around the kitchen like he belongs there.

He catches me staring, of course. One brow lifts, and that smile deepens, like he knows exactly what’s going through my head.

I grab a stack of napkins to look busy. “You’re surprisingly domestic,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

He shrugs. “Just trying to impress the right person.”

And just like that, I forget how breathing works. He’s probably talking about his mother, but…

We get all the plates scraped off and the dishwasher loaded while Star sets the table with dessert plates and coffee cups.

Savannah starts the coffee brewing.

Hawk and I move around each other like we’ve done this a hundred times—scraping plates, stacking them, sliding silverware into the basket. My fingers brush his once, and it’s like touching a live wire.

I pretend to focus on wiping the counter.

My heart is pumping wildly as we return to the dining room where Savannah fills everyone’s coffee cups and Star serves the tres leches cake. The scent of sweet cream and coffee fills the air, but all I can feel is the electricity still humming between me and Hawk.

Belinda is sitting quietly at the corner of the table, her big eyes watching everyone with that soft curiosity she always carries. She tugs gently on my sleeve as I pass her a slice of cake.

“You look…smiley,” she whispers.

I crouch down beside her for a second, whispering back, “I’m just excited to try Savannah’s cake.”

Belinda smiles shyly. “I think Hawk’s nice. He looked at you like you’re the dessert.”

Before I can respond, Vinnie walks by with his coffee, raising a brow.

Then Eagle leans back in his chair and gives me a look. Calculated. Calm. “You know what they say about kitchens,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“They get hot. Fast.” He sips his coffee.

I let out a nervous giggle.

Eagle is flirting with me.

Eagle.

Eagle, who I’ve never said more than two words to.

He’s gorgeous, of course. All the Bellamy men are, but Hawk…

Hawk is the one who makes my pulse race, makes my blood boil, makes me wish I were pure again. Wish I were good enough for a man like him.

But I’m not.

And I never will be.