Sweet Dreams
Page 81

“Put him on the phone,” Tate ordered.
“But, honey –”
“Lauren, put him on the goddamned phone.”
Someone was not happy.
That was okay because I was not happy either.
“Maybe you might want to talk to me about what’s happening?” I suggested acidly.
Tate replied instantly, “What’s happening, Ace, is Neeta’s a f**kin’ nut. I may have only had three women on the back of my bike, that doesn’t mean I’ve only had three women. And one of the reasons I’ve only had three women that I put on my bike is because Neeta hears I got someone in my bed, and she hears I take them there more than once, she moves to stake her claim. She’s been married to a man for seven years but, make no mistake, the bitch claims me. She might be forty-two years old but she never stopped actin’ like a teenager. Not a lotta women like havin’ threatening letters shoved in their mailboxes, crazy, screamin’ women showin’ up at their work shouting obscenities or gettin’ in hair-pulling catfights at the diner. She’s in town it means she’s in town for a showdown with you.”
Oh my God!
“Tate –”
“And you grew up on a f**kin’ farm in Indiana and spent the rest of your life in suburbia. You and your sister might know all about attitude but even your considerable attitude, babe, ain’t gonna mean dick when you’re up against Neeta. I like your face just like it is, I don’t need her clawin’ it with her fingernails. Firstly because, like I said, I like your face as it is. Secondly because, that bitch lays a f**kin’ hand on you, I’m gonna take her ass down and I’m not big on takin’ out a woman. Now give the phone to Wood.”
I took the phone from my ear and held it out to Wood.
“He wants to talk to you,” I whispered and wondered if Wood could hear me over the beating of my heart.
Wood gave me a look, took the phone and put it to his ear.
“You got me,” he said into it then listened then said, “Yeah.” A pause. “Yeah man.” And finally, “No shit? Remember who you’re talkin’ to, yeah?” He listened again and finished with, “Right.” Then he held the phone to me.
Hesitantly, I took it and put it to my ear.
“Tate?”
“Wood takes you to work, he brings you home and he sleeps on the couch. You with me?”
“Tate –”
“Yes or no, Lauren.”
“Yes,” I replied.
“I’m in Lubbock, sittin’ outside a titty bar where my boy is havin’ himself a good time. He’s about to get a lap dance that isn’t gonna end too good for him. Even though I’m takin’ him down, time I get to Denver, get him processed, return Thyne’s SUV I had to borrow and get home, Neeta could wreak havoc. Deke’s in South Dakota. Wood needs to cover you. I’ll be home early tomorrow, latest.”
“Okay,” I said quietly then asked curiously, “He’s in a titty bar at 10:30 a.m.?”
“Ace, he ain’t a member of the Rotary,” Tate answered and I gave a short giggle.
Then I asked, “Titty bars are open at ten thirty?”
“This one is,” Tate replied.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Question, babe,” he stated.
“Yeah?”
“When I’m pissed as shit at Neeta, why am I sittin’ in a borrowed SUV smilin’ every time I hear you say the words ‘titty bar’?”
“I don’t know,” I answered.
I listened to a moment of silence.
“Shoulda never started it with you,” he muttered and I felt my breath stop coming.
I still managed to force out a, “What?”
“Not feelin’ happy vibes that my good girl is usin’ the words ‘titty bar’ ‘cause I’m sittin’ outside one and that she’s gotta count on Wood to keep her safe from my f**kin’ ex when I’m not there. High-class good girl like you should live a life untouched by that kinda shit and a man like me should know better than to bring it on her.”
“I lived a life untouched by that kinda shit, Tate, and I’d never been unhappier because there was worse shit in it and it had nothing to do with talking about titty bars,” I whispered.
He was silent a moment as if contemplating this.
Then he demanded, “You sleep in one of my tees.”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Wood’s in the house while you’re in my bed. Only claim I can stake since I’m f**kin’ three states away and I’m stakin’ it. You sleep in one of my tees.”
“Tate, that’s unnecessary.”
“Babe. Sleep. In. One. Of. My. Tees,” he said slowly and with waning patience.
“Oh all right,” I muttered.
More silence then a soft and sweet, “There’s my good girl.”
My breath caught and I opened my mouth to say something but he’d disconnected.
I touched the button and put my cell on the counter.
Then I turned to Wood and asked, “You want coffee?”
Wood crossed his arms on his chest and his eyes dropped to my bare, tan legs exposed by my cutoff jeans shorts. I’d cut off the legs of some of my old, fat jeans so the shorts hung on my h*ps but even I thought they looked kind of sweet, however, now, I was considering changing them.
Wood’s gaze came back to mine, he grinned slow, it was no less sexy than the times I’d seen it before and he answered, “Yeah.”
I went to get him coffee and I decided I was definitely wearing Tate’s tee to bed.
* * * * *
At 3:30 a.m. in the morning, I stood uncertainly in Tate’s living room watching Wood nab the remote.
“Do you need more pillows?” I asked.
“I’m all right, Laurie,” Wood answered, moving his body to lounge on the couch where I’d put the two sham covered pillows from Tate’s bed with the blanket from the couch.
“Um… I need to –” I started.
Wood flicked on the TV, turned the volume low and his eyes came to me.
“Baby, go to bed,” he said gently.
I nodded and his phone on the end table by the couch rang. He reached for it, looked at the display, grinned huge, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Tate,” he said, his voice vibrating with the chuckle he was suffocating and I bit my lip and decided to listen to the conversation.
“Yeah, she’s home safe and sound. No Neeta. Though, some guy named Brad turned up at Bubba’s.”