She squirmed under the frankness of his focus. His words held no guile, no additional, underlying meaning. Truth resonated from his eyes, truth and an underlying intention she couldn’t quite discern. Desire?
It wasn’t physical, though. It was almost like a plea for her to believe him. Because he felt it so strongly, he wanted her to know. It brought tears to her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I said it because it’s true.”
Ella wasn’t sure she could endure such a look much longer. Aside from Grammy and Chloe, no one had ever been so openly admiring of her. Not even Derek. He’d always been too preoccupied with Pris.
This unquestioning honesty was so refreshing, so completely rejuvenating. With a single, pointed glance, Hawk implied faith in her; he declared belief in her good character, in her honest nature, in her soul, as being something beautiful and wanted.
She longed to return the sentiment. To tell him how highly she thought of him too, but she couldn’t find the words. It meant so much to know he trusted her. To know she could trust him in return. Another couple entered La Comida Buena, sending a flurry of cold air until the door closed behind them once more. Ella realized they were both still standing, but she didn’t want to sit. Not until she said what she needed to say.
“I’m sorry too,” she said.
For some reason, this amused him. His posture loosened, and the most adorable smirk pulled the corner of his mouth. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”
Her stomach fluttered. “For not just telling you who I really was. I guess I worried you wouldn’t be interested in me if you knew…”
He took her hand. “If I knew you were a custodian?”
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Shame at the admission was too unbearable.
Hawk tipped her chin upward, and the touch of his fingertips sent fire coursing through her. “Ella,” he said. “Do you think I care about that?”
Ella’s thoughts froze. His eyes were the crystal blue of water beneath ice, but they were the opposite of cold.
He inched closer. “The only thing I have ever noticed about you, the only thing I have ever cared about, has been your heart. Your sweetness to me that day in the elevator. If anyone is embarrassed about themselves it should be me.” He laughed inwardly. “But you saw past that. You saw past my insecurity and my profession, too. Why should I care about yours?”
Her brow nudged upward. A smirk played at her mouth. “The only thing you cared about was my sweetness?”
A shrug. “And maybe how badly I wanted to kiss you.”
Ella didn’t wait for another invitation. She didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of a restaurant bustling with people. She tiptoed toward him, slid her hand behind his neck, and pressed her lips to his.
Hawk’s arms encircled her. She didn’t need to be in a stalled elevator for time to slow, for the weightless sensation that the ground would drop out from underneath them, that they were plunging toward something incredible and unbelievable and only theirs.
The kiss slowed, but still, he held her. Their gazes locked, his hands secured around her waist, and she teased the hair at his nape with her fingers while her heart thrummed a melody in her chest. She had the sense they were sharing a moment of wonder, the kind of moment where her heart no longer belonged to only her. Where a piece of it detached and drifted to plant itself only with him, where she was vaguely certain it would always remain.
Hawk Danielson was even more handsome up close. She held tightly to him, as tightly as she could, basking in the realness of this moment and stomping away any notion of interruption. She’d thought she’d lost this. The chance at a connection with him, at being held by him, at having him look at her as though she were something precious. The fact that she was here in his arms now made the whole room twizzle. She never wanted it to end.
“Now what?” Ella’s voice was still timid, but oh so grateful.
Hawk pressed another kiss to her mouth before releasing her.
The restaurant bounded back into place with startling clarity. She’d forgotten they were there, standing in La Comida Buena. She’d forgotten anyone else existed at all.
Hawk rested a hand on the back of the seat Grammy had vacated. “Now? I could tell you I’ve fired Stina Malus’s custodial services and am looking for new staffing, but I think I’d rather tell you how I want to spend the afternoon with no one else but you.”
It was an enticing sentiment, but she could only focus on the first aspect. “You fired Stina? What about her crew? What about Janice Hepworth? And Charlotte? They had nothing to do with what happened. They can’t lose their jobs. Janice has three kids, she—”
Why was he finding this funny? His eyes gleamed with admiration as he waved away her worry. “It’s okay. I’ve had Clary contact the other members of her company and see if they’d like to be hired directly.”
“Really?” Ella wasn’t sure her heart could handle any more of his generosity, and yet it somehow continued to swell. How could this man be so decent?
“I could also tell you you’re included in that invitation if you wanted.”
“I don’t,” she said. “Thank you, but I’ve lived my whole life trying to please everyone else. I want to do something for me now.”
“And what’s that?”’
“I love to design clothes,” she said. “Did I ever tell you that?”
“No, you didn’t,” he said, sounding impressed. He held up a finger to stop her from continuing. “You know what, though? I vaguely remember Faye telling me about you. About your talent.”
Ella’s ears flamed. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the fact that this man was also
