Page 27 of Cryptic Curse (Bellamy Brothers #7)

DANIELA

H awk’s trying so hard to keep it together, but I see the heat in his eyes every time I lick my fingers. The man looks at me like I’m the last meal he’ll ever eat—and I don’t think he’s thinking about the cheese balls.

Which, by the way, Belinda is hoarding like they’re gold coins.

She just won her fifth hand in a row with a smug little grin, stacking cheese balls into a lopsided pyramid. I pretend to be upset, but honestly? I love watching her win. She’s eleven, fierce, and sharp as hell.

“All right,” I say, tossing my cards down. “This is getting out of hand. I think you’re cheating.”

Belinda gasps. “I would never! It’s just beginner’s luck.”

She sticks out her tongue and flicks a cheese ball at me. It bounces off my shoulder and rolls under Hawk’s chair. He doesn’t flinch. Just watches us with that low-burning stare like he’s soaking it all in. Like this—me, Belinda, laughter in the air—brings him an inner sense of peace.

A door creaks open behind us, and we all look up. Natalie, Belinda’s nanny, steps into the room, arms crossed.

“Belinda. It’s past your bedtime.”

Belinda groans, slumping against the table. “But I just became the Cheese Ball Queen.”

Natalie doesn’t blink. “Even queens needs their beauty sleep.”

Belinda pouts and grabs a handful of her winnings. “Can I at least take some to bed?”

I smile and nod. “Go ahead. But don’t tell Vinnie and Raven I let you.”

She scurries over, throws her arms around me in a quick hug, and then darts past Natalie with a smirk and a napkin full of orange contraband.

I look at Hawk.

His eyes haven’t left me.

“I guess that’s the game, then,” Hawk says.

I nod. “I guess so.”

He crosses his arms. “Except…I need to put my clothes in the dryer.”

Right. I forgot about his clothes. Which means he’s staying a while longer.

And that’s fine with me.

“We could…”

“What?” he asks.

“We could wait over in my wing of the house,” I say. “We can bring your wet clothes and put them in my dryer.”

“You have your own dryer?”

“Yeah. I don’t use it a lot. The staff does my laundry.”

He chuckles lightly. “Yeah, I get it. I grew up a Bellamy. We had staff for everything.”

“Yet your mom can pull together a huge dinner by herself?”

“She had a little help from you.”

My cheeks warm. “I didn’t do much.”

He shakes his head. “You did a lot. But yeah, my mom was always hands-on as a wife.”

“And as a mother?” I ask.

He withdraws his hand sharply, looks down.

“Hawk?” I tip his chin up, bring his eyes to mine.

And he looks like I just punched him in the gut.