Sweet Spot by Susan Mallery Page B

throw up. This was a bad idea. What on earth had she been thinking?
    Forcing herself to keep breathing, she opened the door.
    “Hi,” she said, trying to keep her voice from coming out in a squeak.
    “Hi yourself.”
    The message to her brain, telling her to step back, was automatic. Which was a good thing, because she was incapable of thought.
    Hawk looked amazing. He wore slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, a tie and sport coat. He looked like one of those sexy sportscasters. Or a male cover model.
    He filled out his clothes perfectly—as if they’d been custom-made for him. Maybe they had. She managed to raise her gaze to his face. He smiled at her and the nerves got worse. An entire parade of butterflies began practicing their marching-band routine.
    She felt weak and oddly aroused at the sight of him. Would he consider blowing off dinner and doing her instead?
    “I made reservations,” Hawk told her. “The Yarrow Bay Grill. Have you been there?”
    “No, but I’ve heard about it.” That it had a stunning view, an excellent wine list and incredible food.
    “I don’t usually make reservations,” he grumbled. “You’d better be impressed.”
    He could do her later, she thought as she smiled. “I am impressed. I’m all quivery. I’ll barely be able to walk to the car. Of course I have a stiff knee so that could be part of the reason.”
    “You’re being snarky.”
    “You picked up the phone and dialed and now you want a plaque?”
    “It’s a guy thing.”
    “Apparently.”
    “You look great.”
    “Thank you. You look very nice, as well.”
    “I did the tie especially for you. I thought you’d like it.”
    “I do.”
    She told herself not to read too much into his words. They weren’t on a real date. They were partners in a bargain that would make most people who knew her shake their heads.
    Forty minutes later they were seated in a booth overlooking the small marina at Yarrow Bay. Lake Washington glimmered with sunlight.
    Hawk flipped through the novel-length wine list, then ordered. When their server had left, he leaned forward.
    “Brittany called me on her way to Raoul’s house. She told me you helped her with his special birthday dinner. Thanks for that.”
    “It was fun. I was a little surprised she came to me, though.”
    “I would have done it, but she knows I would have given her a hard time. Teasing daughters is a father’s prerogative.”
    “Mine was never much into that.” He’d always been a distant man, more interested in what was on TV than the lives of his daughters. “Brittany is a lovely girl. She thinks the world of you. You two have a very special relationship.”
    He shrugged. “We do okay. I want to take all the credit, but it was mostly Serena. By the time she died, all the basics were in place.”
    Nicole didn’t know what to make of the information. Should she ask more about Serena or change the subject? Honestly, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to know.
    “Have you lived here all your life?” he asked.
    She nodded. “Even during college. I went to University of Washington and lived at home. With the bakery, there wasn’t much chance of doing anything else.”
    “Why?”
    She picked up her water glass, then put it down. “My family has owned the Keyes bakery forever. I grew up knowing I would always be a part of that heritage. That I would one day take it over.”
    “You have sisters, don’t you? Why do I think you have sisters?”
    “I have two. Claire is my fraternal twin. You might have heard of her.”
    The server appeared with a bottle of red wine. After opening it, he poured some into a glass for Hawk to taste. Hawk sipped, then nodded. The server poured them both wine and left.
    “Why would I have heard of your sister?” Hawk asked.
    “Claire Keyes?”
    He shook his head, then stopped. “She plays piano?”
    Nicole smiled. “Concert pianist. Famous soloist. She’s played all over the world, made top-selling CDs. When we were three years