He took a step forward and stopped. Going into a woman’s room wouldn’t be a smart move.

Hawk silently set the boy down, pointed to Aric’s chest, then the bed. He leaned against the doorframe to wait.

Of course, on the way to his cot, the kid bumped into his mother’s bed.

Kit sat up in a rush, looked around in obvious fear, and spotted Hawk in the doorway. Her breath drew in audibly.

“Brought your kid back,” he grated out before she could scream the house down. “He showed up in my room.”

Her hands were clenched on the bed covers, her eyes wide. After a long moment, she pulled in a breath. “Hawk.”

Yeah, her brain had booted up. Her gaze dropped to her son who was crawling onto his cot. “Aric, did you go over to Hawk’s house?”

The kid nodded.

Honest kid. A guy had to appreciate that.

Hawk half-smiled at the memory of when Mako had taken in Bull, Gabe, and Caz—and him. He’d been a lying little shit back then. But he’d changed. Doc Grayson had talked about the damage a lie could cause in a family. Caz had pointed out that hawks and eagles were the most upfront of the winged species. But, most of all, the sarge had hated dishonesty, and there was nothing Hawk wanted more than to win Mako’s regard.

It’d still taken Hawk a year to kick the lying habit.

Aric wouldn’t have that problem; his abusive stepfather and the other PZs hadn’t turned him into a liar. Maybe because the boy had spent his time hiding and rarely spoke. No need to lie if no one expected an answer.

Over on the cot, Aric pulled his covers up.

Duty done.

As Hawk opened his mouth to say good night, he saw the way Kit’s hands were still clenched on her blanket, the tenseness of her shoulders. He could almost hear the fears running through her head. A big half-dressed stranger in her bedroom. A scary one.

Then her pointed chin came up, and she shocked the hell out of him with a sweet smile. “Thank you for bringing him back. I hope you’re able to get to sleep.”

Brave woman. The faint twilight through the window highlighted the ragged scar over her left cheekbone where a fist had ripped the skin.

The light showed more than that. Beneath her loose flannel pajamas, she had high, sweetly rounded breasts.

Not something he should be noticing.

“No problem.” Turning his gaze away, Hawk straightened. “Night.”

He headed down the hall, across the living room, and out the deck door, attempting to set aside the wish to join her. To touch her, to feel her warmth against him, maybe even have her smile at him again.