Motorcycle Man
Page 87

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 f**kin’ 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 f**kin’ 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 f**kin’ 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 f**k you needed that f**kin’ 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 f**k 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 f**kin’ 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.