Authors: Kristen Ashley
“Am I clear?”
“Mostly,” I answered.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s not clear?”
“Rivers of blood.”
His head twitched and he asked, “Say again?”
“The Russian mob.”
He shook his head instantly. “No.”
What did he mean, no?
“No?” I asked.
“No,” he answered.
I verbalized my question. “What do you mean, no?”
“What I mean is, that is not done. But it’s gettin’ done. Careful, quiet. And how it gets done, you don’t know. You don’t know shit. So when it’s done, any shit blows back, you’re clear. The Club is dealin’ with this. You’re workin’ in the office and sharin’ my bed.”
“I –”
His fingers came up and pressed to my lips as his eyes locked with mine.
“Trust me.”
“What if you get hurt?” I said behind his fingers and he moved his hand.
“I won’t.”
“But what if you do? Or Dog? Brick? Hound? Or –”
“I won’t. They won’t.”
My voice was rising when I asked, “How can you be sure?”
“
The whole point of doin’ it careful and quiet is so they don’t. I went with my base instinct, babe, blood would have been shed about fifteen minutes after we surrounded Hawk’s truck. But doin’ that shit serves no lasting purpose except the pain it might cause if someone gets hurt or dead. No, you
plan
that shit so the vengeance you seek sticks and lasts a fuckin’ lifetime.”
I was seeing benefits of Tack being sharp as a tack.
He kept talking.
“The mob bought that shit when they took Mara and Lawson’s kids. We been workin’ that now for fuckin’ ever. They took you, the time had come to speed that up and be done with it. But you are not involved or in the know. You trust your man. Then, when it’s done, we live easy until the next fuckin’ drama. And, Tabby doesn’t pull her head outta her ass, seein’ as we got two years of her at least in this house, that could happen tomorrow since it happened yesterday. And by the way,” he added, “I know it I made my point last night but it’s worth repeating. It didn’t help you goin’ commando on that motherfucker’s ass.”
“I’d had a bad day,” I muttered and his mouth curved.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t think,” I went on.
“Got that, babe.”
“Actually, to be honest, I’m not entirely certain what came over me,” I admitted.
“Don’t care, long’s it doesn’t come over you again.”
I took in a breath.
Then I shared, “Well, considering I didn’t exactly have control over it the last time, I can’t make that promise.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered to the headboard.
“But I’ll try,” I offered, he looked at me and when he did, his eyes had changed in a way that made me catch my breath.
“You bein’ cute mean we’re over this current shit?”
I let out my breath and asked back, “If I say yes, will you let me up for coffee?”
His face dipped close. “Babe, I like your cute but this is kinda important.”
I pulled in yet another breath and held his gaze as I whispered, “Do I really have a choice
not
to be over this current shit?”
“No,” he replied instantly.
“I didn’t think so,” I muttered.
“Red, you’re still bein’ cute.”
I sighed.
Then my voice softened and my arms tightened around him as I whispered, “I’m sorry that happened with your sister.”
Tack closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to mine.
There it was.
Damn, there it was. He gave it right to me but I should have known the instant I looked in his awake, alert eyes after I woke.
He’d worried about my state of mind, about the state of us, he didn’t sleep and me moving through the drama, taking in all he was, all he used to be and accepting it meant everything.
And like the everything I gave him, everything Kane “Tack” Allen gave me meant the exact same.
Everything.
I kept talking.
“And that your story is difficult to take.”
He opened his eyes, stared into mine and whispered, “Baby.”
“But I’m not your absolution, honey. You earned it before you met me.”
“You’re my reward.”
Oh God.
I liked that he thought that. Like, a lot.
So I agreed, “Okay.”
“You’re in love with me,” he stated and my breath left me.
So I had to force out my, “I –”
His head came up half an inch and he repeated, “You’re in love with me.”
I closed my eyes.
“Eyes, babe.”
I opened my eyes.
“You’re in love with me,” he said yet again.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Since we met.”
“I know it sounds crazy, Tack, but –”
“Since we met.”
I fell silent for a moment then said softly, “Yes.”
“Thank fuck you needed that fuckin’ job enough to go head-to-head with me,” he muttered.
“Um…” I started to correct, “I think I went head-to-head with you mostly because you were a jerk. It was only partly because of the job.”
“Then thank fuck I was a jerk.”
Who would have ever thought I’d agree with that?
Still, I did.
“Can I have coffee now?” I requested.
“No.”
“Tack!” I snapped.
“I love you too, babe.”
My mouth dropped open and I stared.
But although my body was still and my mind was blank, my belly got warm and my heart tripped before it got light.
Tack wasn’t done.
“Watchin’ that fuckin’ movie, minute my fingers curled around your chin, turned your face to mine and I saw you were cryin’, that’s when it happened.”
Oh hell.
I started crying right then.
“Or, coulda been when I saw you in your yoga shit,” he muttered, watching the tears fill my eyes.
“Shut up,” I whispered.
He dropped his head and touched his lips to mine.
Then he lifted it and didn’t shut up.
He kept muttering.
“Another layer, I lay my shit out, all of it, it’s ugly and she ends that by bein’ cute.”
“Shut up.”
“And bossy.”
“
Shut
up.
”
“Bossy and a cry baby.”
“
Shut up!”
I snapped then finished, “And kiss me, for goodness sakes.”
His lips dropped to mine where he said, “That, baby, you be bossy and
that
I’ll do.”
Then Tack slanted his head and did it.
Hard, wet, wild and thorough.
When he lifted his head, I was dazed, I was happy, later was over, my man loved me, I had it all and Tack said, “Now you can have coffee.”
Toothache
Tack and I were sitting out on his deck in the Colorado sun, feet on the railing, sipping coffee and waiting for the kids to wake up so Tack could make breakfast.
We were both silent.
I didn’t know what Tack was thinking.
I was running through all the available scenarios, knowing the players involved, of how the meeting of my parents and Tack would go.
I was coming up with none that didn’t involve mayhem, gunplay or me getting disowned even though I was an only child when Tack asked, “How attached are you to your house, babe?”
My head turned in his direction and I saw him calmly sipping coffee and staring at his fantastic view.
“Pardon?”
He dropped his mug and turned his head to me.
“Your house,” he stated. “How attached are you to it?”
“In, uh… what sense?”
“In the sense that if you’re attached to it in a way that convinces me to give all this shit up, we’ll build a couple rooms on so Tab and Rush can have their space. If not, we’ll put it on the market.”
Seven hundred thousand, two hundred and ten words flew into my head but none of them came out of my mouth before Tack kept going.
“One plus, it’s close to Chaos and Ride. Minus,” he swung his mug out to his fantastic view but added, “and it’s small.”
“I… we… you,” I swallowed then asked, “Are we moving in together?”
His head tipped to the side like my question was borderline insane and he answered, “Well, yeah.”
“When was this decided?”
“You love me?” he asked and my belly flipped.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Right,” he grinned. “And I love you and your biological clock is ticking so we best get started on that shit.”
That…
shit?
“Uh, you mean, the shit of having a family?” I asked, my brows rising and his grin got bigger.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve known you six weeks,” I reminded him.
“You gonna fall out of love with me tomorrow?” he shot back.
“I don’t think so,” I returned and his grin turned into a smile.
“So what’re we waiting for?”
“Maybe getting to know each other a little better?” I suggested.
“You got any skeletons in your closet?” he asked.
“Not that I know of,” I answered.
“So we’re good,” he muttered, turning back to the view.
“
Do you have any,” I started then finished when I got his gaze back, “
more?
”
“Opened those doors wide and you saw ‘em rattlin’ just this mornin’, Red.”
That was definitely the truth.
“You’ve only lived through one period with me,” I pointed out and his brows drew together.
“Say again?”
“I can be hell on wheels when I’m PMS’ing,” I shared.
His gaze went back to the view as he muttered, “You can be hell on wheels anytime. Like, say, how you’re gearin’ up to be now.”
“Tack!” I snapped and he again looked at me and he did it again grinning.
“What?”
“It goes like this,” I began to explain. “We get to know each other. We have a huge-ass wedding. We spend time just us and, um… Tab and Rush, of course. Then we start on a family.”
“Got it all scheduled,” he noted.
“Yes,” I returned.
“What’s a huge-ass wedding?”
“Don’t ask that,” I advised. “Just show up.”
His grin turned wicked and I liked it
That was, I liked it until he enquired, “You askin’ me to marry you, Red?”
I wasn’t even sipping coffee and, still, I choked.
Then I pushed out, “What?”
“I accept.”
I shook my head and kept shaking it when I requested clarification, “Let me get this straight. Did you just accept my non-marriage offer?”
“Non-marriage?”
“I didn’t ask!” My voice was rising.
“So you just wanna shack up?” he asked but didn’t wait on my answer. “I’m good with that too.”
Gah!
“I’m getting my huge-ass wedding,” I declared.
“
So you
are
askin’ me to marry you,” he noted.
Gah! Gah! Gah!
Sharp as a tack.
Someone kill me.
“When did you show last night?” I asked.
“Say again?”
“Last night, when I was going off on that kid, when did you show?”
“You’d just slapped him and asked, ‘How about that? Feel good?’.”
Wonderful. He caught nearly the entire performance.
“So you saw most of the show,” I surmised.
“Reckon. Yeah.”
“
Do you want some of that?” I asked sweetly and Tack grinned huge, wicked
and
sexy, leaned into me fast, hooking his hand behind my head and pulling me to him.
“You think you could take me?” he asked softly.
“Only if I get to wield pepper spray,” I returned.
“No fuckin’ way,” he replied.
“Then no. But I’d give it a shot,” I retorted and he pulled me closer.
My breath started to escalate as his face, but mostly his mouth, got closer. It escalated further as his eyes moved over my face and it did this mainly because of the sweet, soft look in them.
Then they caught mine.
“Huge-ass wedding,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered back.