Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

“You’ll get there and I’ll be here every step of the way to prove you can believe, but until you do, I’ll just keep waitin’ for you to catch up to me.”

My breath speeds up and I almost feel like I could cry. This isn’t like last time. Last time we had whispered dreams and promises that we would do whatever we could to make them happen. He eased the fears my mama’s abandonment placed in my heart by promising he would always be there, even if only as a friend, but that he wouldn’t just leave me—and he had. But this, this is him giving me so much more with just that one sentence. He isn’t leaving. He isn’t telling me what I want to hear, and we aren’t two kids that didn’t know enough about life to build those dreams. He’s vowing to help me see what we as adults know is possible. To take those steps toward what was finally our time to have.

Each other.

“Together?” I hedge.

“Always.”

I nod, not trusting my words, and he gives me his back to finally flip the lights off. We move like two people who’ve been doing this night after night their whole lives through the shop until he’s standing behind me waiting for me to lock the doors, the silence between us comfortable, even with the lingering reminder of our need for each other whipping up the air around us.

I don’t get that good-night kiss he had joked about earlier. I think we both knew it wasn’t the time, and in all honesty, I’m glad. It isn’t that I don’t want to feel that again. Oh, I do, so much. But I feel so raw inside that I think some of the beauty of our reunion would always hold a sense of heaviness to it if we’d given in to our passions tonight.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I have a date with my past as we start building our future.

And I can’t freaking wait.





13


TATE


“The Driver” by Charles Kelley

- -

The second her taillights vanished from my view, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Mark.

“Remind me tomorrow to thank you for this call,” Mark whispers before clearing his throat and talking away from the receiver. “Darlin’, I’m gonna step out and talk to Tate. You gotta stop givin’ me that look, though.”

“If I called at a bad time, you can let me go.” I laugh, not wanting to hear him and Jane fight.

“Shut your mouth,” he hisses quietly.

He continues talking softly with his wife, mumbling things I wish I never heard. Knowing he’s going to be a second, I make my way to my truck and climb in to crank her up, pulling out of Davis Auto Works and down Main toward home.

“Shit, man,” Mark groans out a breath. “You got good timin’, my friend. I swear to God, my balls are gonna fall off. Is that a thing? Can my balls fall off because my wife can’t stop usin’ my body?”

“Your balls aren’t gonna fall off, Mark,” I answer with a smile.

“Well, they fuckin’ might. You don’t know what they’ve been through today alone, not to mention the last three days. Janie says it’s her special time, whatever the fuck that means. All I know is my wife is startin’ to make me feel like all she wants is my come, and when it doesn’t work, she gets this look in her eye like she thinks she’s failin’.”

“How long did you say y’all been tryin’?” My doctor brain snaps into place hearing him talk about their struggle to conceive. As a doctor, I know these things take time, and it’s common for many couples to try for over a year before ever conceiving. The friend in me, however, wants to do whatever I can to help them out.

“Shit, I don’t know, Tate. Lost track after a year of workin’ hard at it. Workin’ hard turned into workin’ in overdrive. She’s consumed with it, and I just want to give my girl what she wants, ya know?”

“I hear ya. Tell her to call the office tomorrow and make an appointment.”

“Will do,” Mark says with a sigh. “She was seein’ some fancy doctor an hour away, but our insurance wouldn’t cover the treatments he suggested, so she stopped a few months ago.”

“I’ll need her to get a copy of her records from him, but we can get those after she comes in. You just worry about your balls not fallin’ off.”

“Thanks, man,” he says, already sounding better than he did moments before. “Say, why’d ya call?”

My lips twitch. “Need someone’s number from you and didn’t want to spend too much time huntin’ it down.”

We make small talk for the rest of my drive, and as I’m putting the truck in park, Mark promises again to see me next week with his wife. I stare out the windshield after ending our call. My mind is in overdrive, but my heart feels a million pounds lighter knowing that things are as good as they’re going to get at this point with where Quinn stands. Hell, they’re better than I thought they would be this soon, but I know I need to do my part in making the start of our relationship as easy as possible for Quinn.

Then my text chimes with a message from Mark with the number I had requested. I don’t waste a second, wanting to get this done quickly so I can plan my last first date.

“Yeah,” a deep, breathless voice answers, but I hear the phone drop and some grunts before nothing but pure chaos comes through the line. Shouts to grab the lead and a whole lot of bangin’ around later the phone is picked back up. “Sorry ’bout that.”

“If it’s a bad time, I can call back.” I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, hating the nervousness I feel rushing through me.

“Good a time as any,” Clay Davis replies.

“It’s Tate,” I tell him in lieu of answering. “Tatum Montgomery.”

Silence hits my ears. I know he’s there because not only is the call still connected, but I can hear his heavy breathing through the line.

“I wondered when you would be makin’ this call,” he says, his voice calm and steady, even though I know better.

I grunt out a humorless laugh, opening my mouth to reply, but stop when he continues to speak.

“You have anything to do with my sister gettin’ home just now lookin’ better than she has in fuckin’ weeks?”

“At the risk of soundin’ like a cocky bastard, I sure hope so.”

“Hmm.” He hums.

“I know it’s gettin’ to be suppertime and all, but if you could spare some time, I feel like we have a conversation that needs to happen before I continue makin’ sure your sister keeps lookin’ like she did when she got home.”

He hums again.

“I wouldn’t even bother, Clay, but I know Quinn always did go outta her way to make sure her brothers supported her decisions. If I have any hope of winnin’ her back, havin’ your blessin’ to do so is going to mean a whole helluva lot to her. I plan to have the same talk separately with Maverick as well, but Quinn used to look to you for advice and affirmation that she’s doin’ right, and I’ve got a feelin’ that hasn’t changed, which means you’re first on my list.”

“Sure you just don’t want to deal with us both at the same time?”

I scuff out a low laugh. “Hell no, I don’t. In all seriousness though, I know she’s gonna want her brothers to stand behind her decisions, so this needs to happen.”