Mystery Man
Page 81

 Kristen Ashley

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Then he lifted my hand, touched his lips to my knuckles, released it, got up off the bed and sauntered out of the room.
I took my time, got out of bed, dug through my bag, found my toothbrush and face wash, went into the bathroom off his bedroom and did my business. Then I didn’t bother dressing, my nightshirt covered me more than most dresses I owned. I walked out of the room and since the house was built into the hill and all the rooms were to one side the hallway was filled with windows and I saw the view.
The good news was there was a sheer drop off beyond the deck therefore difficult to execute a successful drive-by. The other good news was the view was unbelievable. And for the first time in over a week, there was no bad news.
I walked down the hall looking into rooms to my left. A bath and two other bedrooms, one that had a bed and dresser, one that was a messy office. Then I entered the open space. An open kitchen with bar delineating it from internal walkway opposite sliding glass doors to the deck and the kitchen fed into a massive living room that jutted out a bit at the front of the house.
Tack was in the kitchen at the stove.
I moved to stand by him, not too close, and once there I leaned against the counter. I looked down and there were six, perfect, silver dollar pancakes cooking on a griddle.
His head turned to me.
“Looks like you’re good at that,” I remarked.
He didn’t respond to my remark. Instead he asked, “Do you need coffee?”
“Am I Gwendolyn Kidd, am I breathing and is it morning?” I answered.
Shit! There it was again. The smartass.
Tack grinned. Then he jerked his head to the counter behind me.
“Make yourself at home, peaches,” he invited.
Oh boy.
“Do you need a refresh?” I asked.
“I’m good, babe,” he answered.
I moved to find mugs while speaking. “You want to tell me what that was about last night?”
“Seems we got the same thing on our mind.”
I had my hand wrapped around a mug and I turned my head to look at him as I closed the cupboard door. “What?”
“Babe, you came racin’ outta Hawk’s like the f**kin’ place was haunted and jumped on Dog’s bike.”
“Um…” I answered, dropped my head, grabbed the handle of the coffeepot and started pouring. “Why don’t you answer my question first?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I was there ‘cause I wanted an explanation of why you got kidnapped and not an hour later put up for bid. Hawk and I made a deal and the deal was he’s supposed to have your back so that shit doesn’t happen and it did. He fell down on the job.”
I looked at Tack. “His man got shot three times, protecting me,” I said softly.
Tack’s eyes locked to mine. “Like I said, fallin’ down on the job.”
Hmm. This was unfair and heartbreakingly true at the same time.
I went to the fridge and found milk. “Do you have sugar?”
Tack was flipping pancakes, he finished this task, reached into a cupboard and pulled out a half full bag of sugar, putting it down by my mug. I searched for spoons, sloshed in milk, did my sugar, put back the milk and stirred. Then I set the spoon aside and sipped the coffee.
Tack made good coffee too.
Hmm.
“Peaches,” Tack called, I looked and I saw he was watching me.
“Yes?”
“I answered your question, now’s the time you answer mine.”
I took another sip and studied him over the rim of my mug. His eyes didn’t leave mine so I sighed.
Then I shared, “Hawk just ended things with me so I really, really needed a ride.”
“Hawk ended things?” he whispered and even though I was studying him, I still missed the change in him but when I caught it, my body got tight.
Shit!
“Um…”
“He ended things the night you got kidnapped, your f**kin’ wrists torn up and your picture, bound and gagged, farmed out for bid.”
That didn’t sound good but then again, it f**king wasn’t.
“Um…” I mumbled.
Tack turned to his pancakes. “At least he f**kin’ ended things. Clean go.”
Tack scraped pancakes off the griddle onto a waiting plate as I asked, “Clean go?”
His head turned to me. “Clean go. For you. He’s outta the picture, I don’t have to deal with his shit anymore.”
Uh-oh.
“Tack –” I started, uncertain how to say what I had to say and that was I was so done with men. Seriously done with them. Forever done with them. I was not going to go there again. The problem was, according to Hawk, saying something like that to Tack was like a challenge and I really didn’t need that.
Tack dropped the pancake flipper on the counter, turned and closed the distance between us before I could blink.
Then he started speaking. “Gwen, people talk and the last week, most ‘a the talk on the street that’s not about your f**kin’ sister has been about you and Hawk. I know your shit’s been linked to his for awhile. I know you’re different from the rest. And I saw your face last night, babe, so I know you’re feelin’ this deep and, believe me, it gives me no pleasure sayin’ this, but I also know when he’s done, he’s done and if he said he’s done with you, he… is… done.”
I felt the sting in my sinuses heralding tears.
Tack went on. “I also know what I saw when you first saw me, I know what I felt when I saw you and I know exactly what you felt when I first touched you. That said, I ain’t stupid and I ain’t an ass**le. You aren’t ready. That don’t mean I don’t want in there enough to wait. So,” he moved in closer and his hand came up, curled around my neck as his head bent, his face got in mine and his voice went gentle, “you take your time, darlin’, you lick your wounds and you got me at your back while they heal. You feel like explorin’ more energetic ways to wipe him outta your mind, I’m here. And when you come out the other side, I’m waitin’.”
“Tack –” I started on a breath, my eyes staring into his and I could feel the tears trembling at their edges, tears for the end of my living daydream with Hawk and tears because standing in front of me, apparently, was a good man. A dangerous one, but a good one and still, there was no way in hell I was ever going there.
His head bent further, his mouth touched mine and since my lips were parted, he took that opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. Reflexively, the tip of mine moved to meet the tip of his and an electric shock of surprise and something a whole lot different bolted through me causing another bolt to shoot somewhere else.