“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“He lives with those idiots but he’s a good kid, takes care of his Mom, puts up with that jackass. Patient. Smart. Loyal. Funny. You’ll like him. He’ll like you.”
“Oh my God,” I breathed, not even hearing his words, instead, thinking of a ten year old Tate and wondering what on earth I’d do with him. I didn’t even know what to do with a forty-four year old Tate and I was used to dealing with adults!
“Petal, you okay?” Shambles asked and I turned woodenly in Tate’s arms.
“Tate has a ten year old son,” I told Shambles and Shambles’s eyes shot to Tate.
“Cool!” Sunny shouted. “I like! Kids are awesome!”
I stared at her.
“Kids are awesome, Sunny,” Shambles said quietly.
“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled. “Coffee. Multiple lemon treats. Stat.”
“I’ll get the treats, you get the coffee, Shams,” Sunny said on a grin and looked at Tate. “You?”
“Dazzle me,” Tate invited and Sunny’s grin spread to a smile.
“I can do that!” she cried and turned to get a bag.
Shambles leaned toward me and, with a jerk of the thumb toward Tate, he whispered as if Tate wasn’t right there, “Petal, dude’s into you.”
“Coffee, Shambles,” I prompted.
“I’m a dude and even as a dude I can see this dude is all dude. That isn’t a bad thing, especially with the rumors I hear around town. All of them. You get what I’m sayin’?”
“Shambles, honey, coffee,” I repeated.
“You guys havin’ a tiff?” he asked.
“His ex is a nightmare,” I shared.
“I missed it last night but word on the street is your ex isn’t too groovin’ either.”
This was true. I didn’t admit that because I heard Tate chuckle.
I leaned into Shambles. “His ex is a nightmare’s nightmare, you know, the kind where you wake up and you think you’re safe but then you realize you’re still asleep and you’re still in the nightmare but this one is way worse and finally you wake up with a jolt and your skin is all tingly and you know, you just know someone is in the room and you’re going to be brutally attacked and killed,” I leaned back. “That’s Tate’s ex.”
“She isn’t wrong,” Tate agreed.
“Bummer,” Shambles muttered.
“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled. “She visited last night at about five o’clock in the morning. She woke me up by shouting through the window and banging on it, calling me a bitch. I’d never met her before in my life. There was a lot of shouting and obscenities and then there was more shouting and obscenities but these were liberally mixed with threats. The last thing she told me was to watch my back. And she told Tate she would fight him until she died so he’d never see his son again. Now, I’ve had about five hours of sleep and I need coffee. Can you do that for me, Shambles?”
“Your life is pretty wild, Petal,” Shambles observed.
“Thus my need for lemon treats and really, really good coffee, Shambles,” I replied. “You’re keeping me standing.”
Shambles smiled. “I better get you coffee then.”
“That would be good.”
Shambles shuffled to the espresso machine and Sunny filled his spot.
“Here we go,” she announced, proffering a big bag. “Two lemon squares. Two lemon curd cupcakes. Two slices of lemon and ginger bread with pistachios. And two pieces of lemon drizzle cake.”
I reached forward, took the bag, opened it, yanked out the first thing my fingers touched (lemon drizzle cake) and I took a huge bite.
“Jesus, Ace,” Tate mumbled and I knew by his voice he was smiling.
I twisted to him, lifted the cake to his mouth, he looked at it, looked in my eyes, leaned forward and took a big bite.
Then he chewed.
Then he swallowed.
Then he said, “Gotcha.”
“Unh-hunh,” I muttered and turned back to Sunny, “two more of each, please.”
Tate burst out laughing.
Shambles cried in Tate’s direction, “Dude! Give me a chance, I’ll rock your world.”
I twisted to Tate again, looked up and suggested, “Take him up on that.”
Tate looked at Shambles. “Rock my world,” he invited then he looked at me, his fingers curled around my wrist, he lifted my hand to his mouth and he took another huge bite of my cake.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, pulling my hand back. “That’s my cake.”
“Yeah,” Tate muttered, mouth full, his hand moved to my neck, his thumb at my jaw tilting my head back and his head bent. He swallowed then he kissed me, a kiss that was short but included a sweep of his lemony tongue.
Beautiful.
His mouth left mine and he asked, “You still pissed?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered, still tasting lemon and Tate so, it was debatable, but it might be physically impossible to be pissed.
He grinned. “Give it time, somethin’ll come up.
I turned and rolled my eyes to Sunny who was grinning at the both of us.
Then I took another bite of cake.
Heaven.