Sweet Dreams (Colorado #2)

“Every time I walked into that closet, I looked at those bags and I worried. Was I staying too long? Did you need your space? Did you want time with Jonas? Or did you want me to stay? Should I unpack? Should I leave it as it was? I thought that was safest, so I did. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t care I was living out of suitcases on the floor of your closet.”


His hand came to my neck and he murmured, “Baby,” but I was too far gone to stop so I didn’t.

“So I figured you not saying anything meant it was too soon and yes, Amber and I looked at apartments.” I threw out my arms in exasperation. “What was I supposed to do? Read your mind?”

His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze, his body moved closer and his other arm started to wind around my waist.

“Laurie –”

“And now this, you hear it from Stella and you come home after being gone over a week and you don’t even say hi to Jonas. You don’t ask me about it. You don’t even kiss me, you just start –”

I stopped talking because I couldn’t speak with his mouth on mine and his tongue in my mouth. I tried to tamp down my reaction but he’d been gone over a week, I missed him and lastly, but most importantly, it finally sunk in he wanted me to move in.

So it might have been weak, but I didn’t gosh darned care.

I kissed him back.

My arms were around his neck, my body plastered to his when his lips unlocked from mine and trailed to my ear.

“See you came into your biker babe,” he whispered there, his hands moving on me, making me shiver. “The escalation of attitude’s impressive, Ace.”

“You’re a jerk, Tate,” I replied but it came out kind of breathy mainly because I was breathless.

His head came up and his eyes found mine.

“Unpack your bags.”

I felt my short-lived happy vibe flee at the same time I felt my eyes go squinty.

“You’re very bossy.”

“Unpack your bags.”

“Those apartments are sweet. The one they have available has a view of the –”

His hands stopped roaming at the sides of my ribcage and they squeezed.

“Unpack. Your. Bags.”

I glared at him.

Then I announced, “Tatum Jackson, you’re lucky you’re a smokin’ hot, badass, biker, bounty hunter who looks good in jeans and is a good dad and I love you or you would seriously not be worth it.”

I thought this was a well-delivered line but he clearly thought it was amusing and I knew this because his face dipped close to mine and I felt the side of his nose brush the side of mine before he moved back again and I saw he was smiling.

Then, his brows up, he asked, “Smokin’ hot?”

“Shut it,” I snapped.

Tate burst out laughing at the same time his arms went super tight around me and he gave me a big hug.

“You know,” I told him, “this latest tirade bought me new carpet and a new couch.”

His jaw was pressed to the side of my head. He moved back, looked down at me and declared, “Chick territory, babe, I don’t care.”

“You should care,” I went on. “There’s a snag in the rug in Jonas’s room and if that starts unraveling, he might trip on it and crack his head on the nightstand or something.”

Tate’s head descended again, this time to brush my mouth with his and when he pulled back, he invited softly, “Make things safe for my boy, baby.”

I liked his soft voice and he’d been gone awhile so I missed it being live and in person but I still felt it necessary to hold a grudge.

“I would have done it anyway, just because it’s a hazard,” I grumbled, my eyes targeted to his ear. “Wrath of Tate be damned.”

“Babe,” he called.

“What?” I snapped, my eyes moving back to his.

“Unpack,” he whispered, kissed me lightly, let me go and pulled me from the door, turning me and I knew he was going to go talk to Jonas but his eyes went beyond me to the wall over the bed and then he went completely still.

Then he muttered, “Christ.”

Uh-oh.

“Um…” I mumbled and his gaze moved to me.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said.

“Stoney was –”

“I don’t wanna know,” he repeated.

“Stoney understood you needed it in your –”

He yanked my body to his, his head came down and he gave me a hard, bruising but thorough and delicious kiss and then his head came back up.

“I love it, babe, loved that picture all my life,” he whispered, my stomach flipped, my heart turned over and he went on. “And I know Stoney loved it too so, you gettin’ it from him… I don’t… wanna… know. Yeah?”

I felt it prudent at that juncture to agree so I nodded.

“Good girl,” he muttered, let me go, left the room and went to say hello to his son.

I stood there and stared at the picture, smiling to myself. Then I stared at the closet. Then I wondered if I unpacked right then, if Tate would think I was too eager.

So I decided not to unpack right then.

Instead, I walked out of the bedroom, down the hall, to the kitchen and finished pouring myself a Kool-Aid which was what I had started doing when Tate arrived home. I offered Tate and Jonas drinks and brought Tate a beer and Jonas an iced Kool-Aid.

Then I went back to the bedroom, taking my Kool-Aid with me, and unpacked.

*

I would figure it out later, in bed, when it woke me up.

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