I switched topics because he kind of had me there.
“And I don’t live in my own head.”
His face changed, his voice changed, everything changed when he spoke again.
Everything.
The whole of Tate.
I watched it and it was so dazzling all I could do was stare.
“Honey,” he whispered, using an endearment he’d never used on me in a voice he’d never used either, a voice that was quiet and sweet and the expression on his face was so tender it made my heart turn over, “you’re so deep in your head you can’t even sleep.”
I felt my lips part and I kept staring at him.
Darn it all, he had me there too.
His arm left my back so his hand could curl around the side of my neck.
“This is what we got. You got burned by that ass**le ex of yours and I got played by Neeta. We hooked up after that, for me right after that, and here we are. So what’re we gonna do?” he asked.
“I…” I cleared my throat, “I don’t know.”
The pad of his thumb pressed my jaw up as his head tilted down and his face got close.
“I ain’t Brad and you aren’t Neeta,” he said softly. “I also ain’t perfect and neither are you.”
He was right about that too.
“No,” I agreed quietly.
“So we find out about each other and who we are together.” His forehead dropped to touch mine. “I’m gonna piss you off ‘cause I can be a dick. That’s who I am. And you’re gonna piss me off ‘cause, babe, you got attitude. That’s who you are. And that’s who we’re comin’ out to be together. And I’m all right with that because, with what I had before, even when you’re a bitch, I like it. But when you’re not, it’s a sweetness the like I’ve never tasted.”
Oh.
My.
God.
I felt tears sting my eyes and my fingers curled around his biceps to hold on.
“Tate,” I whispered.
“So, I’m not takin’ you to the hotel. We’re sittin’ out on the deck and havin’ coffee. Then I’ll make you breakfast. Then we’ll f**k in bed, then f**k again in the shower, then we’ll go to work. Then I’ll take you for your swim. Then we’ll f**k in the shower at the hotel. Then I’ll feed you and we’ll probably f**k in my bed again.”
“That’s a lot of, um…”
“Maybe I should rephrase, some of it’ll be f**kin’, some of it’ll be me makin’ you come.”
I felt and heard my breath snag as my hands moved of their own volition. They uncurled from his biceps and started to press under his arms to wrap around his back.
“I usually eat before I swim,” I found my mouth informing him.
I watched his face relax and his fingers slid into my ponytail and twisted gently. “Works for me.”
Then his mouth came to a hairsbreadth away from mine.
“Okay,” I breathed as my eyes started closing.
“You over your snit?”
My eyes slowly opened and that disquiet I felt last night reminded me of its existence.
Then I whispered, “We should talk about Wood.”
His lips touched mine. “You got Neeta today, baby, Wood can wait until later.”
“But –”
His arms pulled me deep into his body. “Only so much of those two I can stomach in a day.”
“Tate –”
“You gonna finally kiss me good mornin’ or do I have to kiss you?”
I felt a flurry in my belly.
“I should probably kiss you,” I said softly because I probably should. I’d been a bitch again and I needed to make it up to him.
“You got a second, Ace, then I’m takin’ over.”
“Tate –”
“Time’s up,” he said, his head slanted and Tate kissed me good morning.
Chapter Fifteen
Peace of Mind
The phone rang and my eyes opened.
Tate’s painted shoulder and back were all I could see. I was curled into him and it was dark but the moonlight was shining in through the windows.
I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist that was dangling at his stomach, holding firm keeping my arm where it was as he lifted up. Once up, he let my hand go and reached for his cell on the nightstand.
I left my arm draped around his waist and snuggled closer. Lifting up a bit to rest on my elbow, I pressed my nose against his back then turned my head so my cheek was there as my arm around his waist tightened and he answered the phone.
“Jackson,” he growled, this growl due to sleep.
I listened to the silence. Tate listened to the phone.
“Who?” he asked his voice no longer holding even a hint of sleep. “Right. Where?” he went on and then listened. “Right. Fax or e-mail?” he listened again. “Right,” he repeated then said, “Next time, Thyne, do me a favor and let me in on this shit before it gets to this. Yeah?”
Hmm. He didn’t sound sleepy anymore but he also really didn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Tate confirmed then flipped the phone closed.
He tossed it on the nightstand and turned toward me. I moved back to accommodate him and his arms slid around me, pulling me close again when he was facing me.
“Got a situation, Laurie,” he muttered.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Fugitive, probably armed, definitely dangerous. Why the f**k they let this guy out on bail is anyone’s guess. He’s serious shit.”
For the first time it struck me that he hunted fugitives that could be armed and definitely were dangerous. But then again, fugitives by definition of being fugitive were probably pretty dangerous, especially to the person who was hunting them in order to halt their fugitive status. I had no idea why this didn’t sink in before but I figured it did it then because he received a middle of the night phone call where they called him in during “a situation” thus giving his occupation a reality it never had before.
My arms around him got tight.
“Who’s Thyne?” I asked.
“Bail bondsmen in Denver. He’s got two local guys he uses for the small time shit, calls me in when he has problems. He tried to find this guy usin’ local talent which was a mistake. Those boys take less of percentage because they’re part moron but not moron enough to know no one’ll pay them for bein’ part moron. Thyne is cheap and part moron too so he pays ‘em. This guy is probably in Mexico by now.”