Motorcycle Man

Chapter Eighteen Really Glad He Did

“Can I say, I’m not sure about this?” I said into the “secure phone” Tack handed me when it rang.

My ass was on the counter in my kitchen close to where Tack was working. And my ass was there because Tack planted it there with a muttered, “Keep me company while I cook,” which was kind of an invitation but him doing it after lifting me up and planting my ass on the counter was more a command.

It was the evening after our showdown in the office. As promised, Tack came over with grocery bags full of food to make our dinner that I discovered was going to be chops, potatoes and green beans. The minute he closed the door behind him, he grabbed my hand, dragged me to my kitchen and planted my ass on the counter with his kind of invitation to hang with him while he cooked. So I was hanging with him while he cooked.

This was after I spent the day cleaning my house, doing yoga and opening the door to a scary looking, boy-man biker in training who introduced himself as Roscoe and was wielding a metal detector (it took him half an hour but he found Lanie’s ring).

I did all this while anticipating that night.

I didn’t have to think about my decision since both of us knew it was already made.

I was kind of scared.

I was mostly excited.

And I was excited because maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t wrong about Tack being my dream man.

But in the two weeks we’d been playing our game, things had been anything but normal. Your man coming over to make dinner with you knowing he was going to do it as well as understanding he was your man was normal.

I was scared of normal.

I was also excited about it.

And normal started out good. As I sat on the counter watching, Tack slid right into it like we’d known each other years rather than weeks and most of those years had been normal.

Though, he did it while unpacking food and preparing the potatoes which looked like they were going to be awesome. Sliced super thin, arranged in a casserole dish, layered with salt, pepper, paprika, pats of butter and minced garlic then smothered in cream and milk before he slid them into the oven. He also did this while telling me about Detective Mitch Lawson and his woman, Mara Hanover-very-soon-to-be Lawson (as they were engaged).

And what he told me was scary.

It also confirmed Mara Hanover-very-soon-to-be Lawson had an off-the-charts big heart.

But, although I got the drift that cops were not Tack’s favorite people, the way he told the story shared that Detective Mitch Lawson’s heart was so off-the-charts big, it needed its own zip code. Cop or no, Detective Lawson had Tack’s respect not for being a cop but for being a good man who took care of his woman and the two kids they’d taken under their wing.

When he was done, I was looking forward to getting to know Mara better. And I was hoping I’d meet Mitch.

That was when the phone Tack had placed on the counter rang. He grabbed it, picked it up and handed it to me.

“Yours. Burner. Secure. How you communicate with your girl. She’s callin’.”

Even though I didn’t fully understand a couple of his words, I wanted to kiss him. He’d arranged for me to have access to Lanie and that was thoughtful. It was also sweet.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to kiss him because checking in with Lanie took precedence. So I answered the phone and was assured by Lanie that she was okay after her abduction and interrogation. Then I was very not assured when she told me she and Elliott were planning to make their problems go away by disappearing.

Disappearing!

I didn’t even know what that meant. I just knew it didn’t mean good things.

This brought me to now, telling Lanie I wasn’t sure about this scheme (by the way, this was a massive understatement).

“Eli and I have talked about it, Ty-Ty, and it’s our only option,” Lanie replied.

I sucked in breath. Then my eyes slid to Tack who was at the stove making what appeared to be homemade stuffing that had sausage and mushrooms in it and, incidentally, also looked awesome. Unfortunately at that moment with the prospect of my best friend doing something bonkers, like disappearing, I suddenly wasn’t hungry.

His hand was holding a wooden spoon that was moving stuffing around in a pot but his eyes were on me.

“There’s another option,” I ventured carefully, my eyes holding Tack’s.

“What?” Lanie asked.

I looked to my knees and suggested quietly. “You could let him go. Let him face the consequences. I know that’s harsh but –”

Lanie cut me off. “I can’t desert him.”

“Yes, honey, you can. We’re talking the Russian mob. We’re talking you disappearing. We’re –”

“Tyra,” she interrupted me again, “in just weeks, I was going to pledge my troth to this man. What would it say about me when, days ago, I was intent on spending my life with him, for better or for worse, that I fall at the first hurdle?”

“Lanie, honey, really, I don’t want to be mean but this isn’t a hurdle. This is a twenty foot, steel-reinforced, concrete wall. I know I don’t have to tell you because you were there, and so was I, but we were kidnapped because of his shit.”

Tack made a noise that sounded like an amused grunt and my eyes went to him to see he was grinning at the pot but Lanie spoke in my ear.

“I’m sorry, Ty-Ty. So sorry. And Elliott is too. He feels so bad. He won’t stop talking about it. Not only that it happened to me but that it happened to you and your aunt. But he didn’t kidnap us. He just messed up. And, sweetie, the thing is, I’ve had a long time of better. This is the worse part of for better and worse. And he got in this pickle for me.”

My back went straight and I looked at the wall in front of me. “Oh no. I’m being cautious here because I know you love him and things are crazy but that’s not going to happen, you taking any blame for his actions.”

“Say it like it is, baby,” Tack muttered and my gaze went back to his, my eyes widening in a mute communication of “no comments from the peanut gallery”. This simply got me a bigger grin before Tack turned off the burner, picked up the pot and moved to the thick chops he’d laid in a tray.

Lanie was silent a moment then she whispered, “Ty-Ty, I love him and love scales twenty foot, steel-reinforced, concrete walls. If it doesn’t, it isn’t love.”

Damn, she had me there.

“What are you going to do for money? What about your job. His job? Your house? The wedding?” I asked, leaving out the selfish but (I thought) important Me?

“We’ll figure it out.”

Gah!

“Lanie –”

“Tyra, sweetie, that’s also what love is. You figure it out.”

She had me there too.

I sucked in breath, my head dropped and my shoulders drooped.

Then I said softly, “I’m worried about you.”

I heard the door on the oven go up and half a second later a strong, warm hand curved around the back of my neck. I looked up and saw a now unamused Tack holding my neck and my eyes, his serious and searching. Then, when he found what he was searching for, his eyes warmed and his hand gave me a squeeze.

That was thoughtful and sweet too.

“We’ll be all right,” Lanie assured.

“But –”

“And if we aren’t all right then we’ll be not all right together which is a form of all right.”

As nuts as it was, as insane as the situation, I was both glad for my friend that she had that conviction about the man she loved just as I was jealous and wanted that for me.

And thinking that, my eyes held by the deep warmth in Tack’s, my heart clenched yet again but it was the good kind of clench.

Scared but excited.

And hopeful.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“I’ll keep you in the loop as much as Tack says is okay,” Lanie told me.

There it was. More. Tack was protecting Lanie (and Elliott) as well as me.

“I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll tell Elliott you said ‘hi’.”

I wanted her to kick Elliott in the shin for me and, maybe, shove his shoulder and, possibly, lecture him for being an idiot in love and doing stupid shit the caliber of which ended in the mob snatching three women from an upscale mall parking lot but I didn’t share that.

Instead, noncommittally, I said, “Right.”

Lanie giggled quietly because she knew what I didn’t share.

“Roscoe found your ring. Did he get it to you?” I asked, changing the subject and Tack’s hand gave me another squeeze then he let me go and moved away.

“Got it. Thanks for that.”

“Thank Roscoe, he was the one wielding the metal detector.”

“Already did.”

“Good,” I muttered.

“I have to go, Ty-Ty. They just brought in our food.”

“Okay, honey, stay safe and stay strong.”

“Will do. And next time we talk, I want to know all about you.”

Translation: She wanted an update on me and Tack.

“Will do,” I repeated her words. “Later, honey.”

“Later, Ty-Ty.”

I slid the phone shut. When I did, Tack was right there sliding it out of my hand. He set it on the counter then he positioned in front of me, pulled my knees apart then he positioned in me. He did this by wrapping his arms around me and yanking me forward on the counter so his hips were between my legs and I was crotch to chest against him, tight.

His hand slid up and sifted into my hair while he muttered, “That sounded like it went okay.”

“Then it sounded wrong since she’s making the wrong decision, I’m scared as hell for her and I think the decisions Elliott has made has put in question his ability to make other important decisions in their future.”

“You’d be right about that,” Tack agreed.

Great.

“But, babe,” he continued, “I know about their plan and I’m arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point where they’re gonna go. The Club is also gonna deal with the Russians. But that won’t matter for them. They’ll be long gone, buried in their new lives and all will be good. At least with that. We deal with the Russians, they can come back. Now, him not fuckin’ up again…” he trailed off.

But I was staring at him.

“You’re arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re arranging safe passage, new identities and a jumping off point?” I repeated then went on, “For Lanie and Elliott?”

His brows drew together. “Uh, yeah, babe.”

“Isn’t that… doesn’t that kind of thing cost a lot of money? New identities?”

“It does, you’re in the position you have to pay in cash. It doesn’t, you got someone who does good work who owes you a marker.”

I didn’t get into why Tack might know someone who did good work with fake identities and more, why whoever that person was owed him a marker. I had bigger fish to fry.

“You’re pulling in a marker for Elliott and Lanie?”

Tack cocked his head to the side then asked, “That woman mean something to you?”

“Yes, Tack, she’s my best friend.”

“Then yeah, Red, I’m pulling in a marker for Lanie. Normal circumstances, Belova could go fuck himself but unfortunately Lanie comes with him, she means something to you so that means I’m pullin’ in a marker for him too.”

“No you’re not,” I whispered, still staring at him and his brows drew together again.

“Say again?”

“You’re pulling in that marker for me.”

His hand twisted in my hair, his face got soft and so did his voice when he answered, “Yeah.”

God. Oh God.

That was thoughtful and sweet too. And it was also evidence that Kane “Tack” Allen had a big heart.

My head fell forward and to the side until it collided with his shoulder as my arms slid around him and got tight.

I felt his head turn and in my ear he said quietly, “Fuck, baby, just with that, you made callin’ that marker worth it.”

God.

Oh God.

My head snapped back, my hands fisted in the back of his tee and I ordered, “Be a jerk.”

His chin shifted back sharply and he asked, “What?”

“I can’t deal with sweet, thoughtful Kane ‘Tack’ Allen. You need to be a jerk. Immediately. I can deal with jerky Kane ‘Tack’ Allen.”

Tack grinned but said, “Sorry, darlin’, got you tucked to me, good food cookin’ in the oven, we’re alone and no one’s bangin’ on the door. Not in the mood to be an asshole.”

“This is unfortunate,” I muttered. Tack chuckled. I felt his humor from crotch to chest. It felt way nice and his arms got tighter as his face got closer which was way nicer.

“You’ll get used to my sweet,” he promised.

“I’m not sure about that,” I warned.

His eyes changed.

Steely determination.

Oh boy.

Then he stated, “I am.”

Yep. I was right.

Oh boy.

“Tack –”

His face moved back a couple of inches and he said, “Roller coaster.”

“Pardon?”

“Food needs to cook a while. While it does, you’re gonna tell me about your roller coaster.”

I could do this.

“Can we get some wine and move to the couch where it’s more comfortable?”

“You uncomfortable?”

I wasn’t. Not in any way.

Though I’d be more comfortable with a glass of wine in my hand.

“You’re on your feet,” I pointed out.

“Red, you’re pressed to me crotch to tits. This is not uncomfortable.”

Right. Good to know.

Suddenly, I didn’t need wine.

“Roller coaster,” I said quietly and Tack nodded but I didn’t know what to say. Thinking about it after having been kidnapped, it seemed to pale in comparison.

“Tyra,” Tack prompted and I focused on him.

“I… well, you have a stalker ex-wife and problems in the Club and out of it that put your life in jeopardy. And Aunt Bette, Lanie and I were kidnapped. In light of all that, the roller coaster I jumped off that led me to Ride doesn’t seem much like a roller coaster anymore.”

“Pain fades,” Tack declared. “But tell me about it anyway.”

I held his eyes. Then I admitted, “Actually, now, it seems kind of lame.”

And it did. Total bullshit. Office politics. Stuck in a job I didn’t like mostly because the people around me were toxic but feeling my feet encased in molasses or, maybe, it was simply that I was too scared to take a risk and get the hell out.

“Red, those chops and potatoes need to cook a while but not a millennium. Tell me.”

“I was targeted,” I blurted and he blinked.

“Say again?”

“Targeted. I had a desk job. I was a supervisor. I liked what I did. It was challenging. It wasn’t a normal desk job where you do the same thing day in and day out. Every day was something different. I had a lot of work to do. I was never bored. I got paid well. I got to wear nice clothes. It wasn’t a passion but I was content. Content enough that I’d been there for a while and had no plans to leave. But, unbeknownst to me, one of my co-workers hated me and she’d been campaigning behind my back for ages. Shit-stirring and the brew was toxic. She’d turned a bunch of people against me. I just went to work, did my job, liked it and went home. I had no idea this was happening. It blind-sighted me when her brew was done and she started her spell in motion. I had no idea. She was kind to my face. No, not even that, friendly, out-and-out. I liked her. I cared about her. I knew about her life, her family. It wasn’t like we were best friends and she was over for dinner every night but she was, or she acted like she was, the kind of person in my life that she’d stay in my life no matter which direction we went. We’d exchange birthday and Christmas cards and stupid e-mails we thought were funny even if she moved to Florida and I moved to New Zealand. We’d be friends on Facebook. But it was a total lie. And all the people she filled with her toxin were two-faced too. I’d never experienced such poison. Such hypocrisy. It didn’t feel good to be lied to, that kind of thing never feels good. But smiling at me and sharing recipes while you’re stabbing me in the back? I don’t understand that kind of behavior.”

“Jesus,” Tack muttered.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And I was stupid. I was surprised, sure, but when it started going down I should have said, ‘Fuck this,’ and got out. Life’s too short to deal with people like that, their small worlds, their small minds, their venom. I didn’t and I got buried under it. I thought it would just pass. I was a supervisor and promoted to that position and I think, though I have no clue why anyone would do that to someone, she was pissed because I was promoted and she wasn’t. She was there longer than me. Or it could be I was younger. I don’t know. I don’t care. My boss said I didn’t have anything to worry about, ignore it, keep my chin up but it just kept coming. It went on for months. Stuff happened, things were said, done, just mean, catty, awful. I let it get to me. I wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t eating. I couldn’t understand how someone would hate me so much even to begin a campaign like that much less go full-throttle for months on top of trash talking me for years. And she had been, Tack, behind my back trash talking me for years while to my face she was sweet. I let it get in my head to the point I wasn’t only not sleeping, I wasn’t eating and I couldn’t even brush my teeth because just brushing my teeth made me gag and I’d end up hurling.”

“Red,” Tack whispered.

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve decided just now to let it go because, looking back on it, it was stupid. I should never have let it get to me.”

“It ain’t stupid. That shit is whacked,” he clipped.

This response surprised me but the vehemence with which it was uttered surprised me more.

“Really?” I asked.

“Fuck yeah,” he bit out. “Christ, bitches. They’re the worst. I’ll take a pissed off man, his fists and the best man wins any time. But bitches, no. They play their mind games, fuck with your head. Jesus, darlin’, I hate that happened to you.”

Wow, that was sweet too. Very sweet.

“Are you, um… speaking from experience?” I asked.

“Yeah, experiencing you tellin’ me that shit,” he answered. “But no. There’s a reason I am who I am, where I am and do what I do. I got a minefield of politics I have to negotiate but I also got a brain in my head, I’m smart enough to be cautious, I got my own weapons and I’m not afraid to use them. What I don’t got is bitches who play mind games because they’re pissed off about somethin’ in their lives. Or they’re pissed off that they’re small, not good enough and know it and instead of doin’ better, workin’ harder, they gotta tear down someone who doesn’t carry their load of shit. Jealousy is an ugly emotion that makes people do some seriously whacked shit and when a woman is experiencing it, it’s worse. No, I am who I am, where I am and do what I do to avoid that kind of bullshit hassle.”

I had to admit, it felt nice not only that he didn’t belittle that situation but also that he understood it. And more, that he was angry on my behalf because it happened to me.

Before I could find the words to share this with him, Tack spoke again.

“So what’d you do?”

“I quit.”

His head tipped to the side. “That’s it?”

“Well. Yeah. One day, I’d had enough and it hit me. I wasn’t going to be incarcerated for quitting my job. I had enough money to get by for a while. I wasn’t eating and I couldn’t even brush my teeth. That poison was infecting me. She was winning. So I packed up my desk and walked out. I didn’t even tell my boss I was going. I just left.”

“You didn’t fuck with her back?”

“No. I just left.”

“Babe, someone fucks with you, you fuck back.”

“Looking back, she didn’t deserve the effort.”

“Wrong.”

It was me who blinked this time.

“Pardon?”

“Wrong. Bitches should not get away with that.”

“Tack, she has to live her small life knowing she’s not good enough and swimming in her own poison. That’s her penance.”

“Wrong again, Red.”

“But –” I started, his arms gave me a squeeze and I stopped talking.

“That shit starts, you key her car. It continues, you slash her tires. That shit keeps goin’, you get creative.”

His words surprised me so much my, “What?” was high-pitched.

“Life is lessons and she needs to learn hers.”

“By keying her car and slashing her tires?” That was high-pitched too.

“She’s got shit in her life she’s gotta deal with, she’s got less time to focus on makin’ your life miserable.”

“That’s a strange way of solving a problem, handsome,” I told him. “Not to mention illegal.”

“Maybe strange to you. Maybe illegal. But, no doubt about it, Red, it’d work. Luckily, your ass is in your office at my garage and you work with all men so you don’t gotta deal with bitches anymore. For some asinine reason you take some other job and you got bitches targeting you, you tell me and I’ll see to it they stop.”

I blinked again.

Then I stated, “Well, first, I like my job and I’m fucking it up less every day so it’s unlikely I’ll be moving on.”

“Babe, you resigned this morning,” he reminded me then finished with, “Again.”

“Yes, because I was fighting with you. Now we’re not fighting so I’m sticking.”

He grinned and muttered, “Good to know.”

I kept on target. “But, second, if some great opportunity came my way and I took it and the same thing happened, you wouldn’t stop it. I’d just know next time to quit before it gets to me.”

“Uh… no. You’ll tell your man and he’ll deliver a lesson.”

“Tack –”

“Tyra,” he cut me off quietly, leaning into me, “baby, listen to me because right now I’m delivering a lesson to you and I’m doin’ it gentle-like so you’ll get it and not freak. This is your new world. People don’t fuck with people like us. They do, payback. This bitch might have been jealous you got promoted over her. But, my guess, she’s butt ugly, possibly overweight and you said she was older. It wasn’t about the promotion. It was about you bein’ funny and sweet and smart and beautiful and she couldn’t find a way to work with what she has and find happiness in herself so she saw all you had goin’ for you and she had to drag you down. That’s bullshit. You don’t get to walk all over people without retribution.”

He said I was beautiful.

Nice.

Further, that was the second time he said something like that today.

Very nice.

And he had my work situation figured out too even with limited information. She hadn’t been exactly attractive, though not overweight but definitely older.

Even so, I said softly, “I’m not sure we agree about this, handsome.”

“That’s all right, darlin’. If what we’re building doesn’t go south, we’re good and the job you got, you’re surrounded by men so that shit’s not gonna happen. And if it does, any man at the garage who’s stupid enough to fuck with you will answer to me.”

I could do that seeing as he was my boss so that would be his job anyway.

Still.

“And, if what we’re building doesn’t go south, something happens, an opportunity I can’t refuse, I move on job-wise and someone targets me, then what?” I asked. “I mean, if you’re my man, I should be able to talk with you about stuff like this without you going scary biker dude and laying a trail of devastation to someone’s life.”

Tack’s hand moved to my neck and his body and face got even closer. “You move outta the office and not outta my life and shit goes down, then, Red, you don’t hesitate to tell me. You talk, I’ll listen. I’ll talk, you’ll listen. And unless it’s extreme, we’ll sort it out before I take action.”

I could do that too, maybe.

“But,” Tack went on, “bottom line, no one fucks with my woman. So, if we sort shit out and my advice is you move the fuck on, that’s what you do. You sleep beside me, Red, no fears, feeling safe. You do not lose sleep over bitches. And I like your mouth but I won’t like it if you can’t brush your teeth and you’re pukin’ all the time. Further to that, I like your body. You can’t eat and you’re pukin’ all the time, you lose weight, I won’t like your body as much. That don’t work for me. So, you don’t move on from a bad situation when that’s the advice I’m givin’ you, I’ll be forced to take action to take care of you. And I will. We agreed?”

“Boiling that down, I do what you want me to do or you do whatever you want to do. Is that what I’m agreeing?”

Tack’s mouth twitched.

Then he muttered, “Yeah.”

“I’m noticing a theme to Life with Kane Allen,” I remarked.

“Yeah, and that theme is, I got your back. I take care of you. You sleep easy. You eat good. And you feel safe. Are you tellin’ me you got a problem with that?”

Well, presenting it like that, I didn’t.

That said, I still did.

Carefully, I replied, “Do you see how my concerns over your responses to the way people treat me in life would make me think twice about sharing important things with you?”

“Yeah, baby, but do you see that when you’re stuck in a box someone slammed over you and can’t see clear, I give you advice that’s lookin’ out for you, you don’t take it ‘cause you can’t see clear and the result is you come to harm in any way, I’m gonna act but I’ll be doin’ it in your best interests?”

Okay, well, presenting it like that, I did see.

Damn.

“You don’t keep shit from me,” Tack continued. “I will admit, there are times when I’ll react, do it fast and do it on gut. But I lived through some serious shit and I’m still doin’ it. I learned you don’t carry through with a kneejerk response. You think about shit and you do it smart. Eliminate blowback. Get the shit job done in a way you can move ahead free and easy.”

This took us to a new topic of conversation, one I wanted to talk about less but also one that I had been able to avoid when I wasn’t officially pronounced Tack’s woman.

One I couldn’t avoid now.

“Speaking of that,” I started, “the living through serious shit part. Now that circumstances have changed, are you going to share?”

“Yeah, I am,” Tack surprised me by replying. “But I’m not gonna do it now.”

“Why not now?”

“’Cause I gotta get my woman a glass of wine. Then I got green beans to cook. Then I want you to enjoy what you’re eatin’ and not be thinkin’ about that shit while you do it. And after that, we’ll be in your bedroom and we won’t be doin’ much talkin’.”

A number of things to look forward to.

Nevertheless.

“Although I don’t want to know, I kind of want to know and maybe sooner is better than later.”

Tack’s hand slipped down me so his arm curved around my back and he dipped his head so he could touch his mouth to mine.

When he lifted it, he said quietly, “My chops are fuckin’ superb. My stuffing, better. Those potatoes, babe, you let loose and enjoy your food, they’ll rock your world. And I made the effort to cook it because I want you to enjoy it. And I like this easy with you and I don’t wanna lose it. Not tonight, our first night of having it. What I will tell you so I can shift that worry outta your eyes is, I’ve lived through worse and I’m still standin’. This Russian mob shit is a pain in my ass and has been a good long while. That said, it’s also turnin’ out to be the means to bring cohesion back to the Club. You’re new but you’re also Chaos, new or not. No one fucks with Chaos because Chaos fucks back, as a unit. You fuck one, you fuck us all. So at least I got one less problem because the boys are at my back with that shit and not arguin’ about other shit. The kids are right now at my house and they’re happier there. That’s a Band-Aid but it’s workin’. Another problem down. And you and me have shifted to a place I like and, way you are right now, you like it too. Let’s have this. Later, I’ll fill you in. Now, let’s keep this good.”

I couldn’t argue with that so I whispered, “Okay.” Then I set out to confirm. “But you’ll tell me later?”

“Said I would, I will.”

I nodded then pressed, “About all of it?”

“All of it?” he asked.

“You’ve lived through worse and you’re still standing,” I clarified.

His arms gave me a squeeze. “You wanna know, Red. I’ll tell you. Just not tonight.”

He’d tell me.

I let him in, he was letting me in.

And cooking for me while doing it.

I was thinking I could ride this new roller coaster. I was even thinking I liked it.

I pressed closer as I said, “FYI, handsome, I can cook too.”

“You’re up tomorrow night.”

I edged back half an inch. “But tomorrow night is at your house.”

“Yeah, my house. And bein’ a house, it’s got a kitchen. So you’re cookin’ at my house.”

“But I won’t know where anything is.”

“I don’t have kitchen utensils from Mars, babe. I found my way around yours. You’ll find your way around mine.”

Of course.

“Right,” I murmured then told him, “If you want to get on with the green beans, I can get myself a glass of wine. Do you want a beer?”

“Yeah, I want a beer and I also want you to keep your ass where it is. I’ll get your wine.”

“Tack, I can get my wine and your beer and come right back and hang with you while you finish dinner,” I offered, thinking I was being nice.

Tack’s eyes flashed with amusement as he said, “I bet you can, Red, but what’s up for debate is if you can not argue about every fuckin’ thing.”

My back went straight. “I was being nice!”

“I see you can’t,” he muttered, his lips tipped up at the edges.

“Whatever,” I snapped. “Wait on me. See if I care. I’ll just sit here and sniff chops.”

“Honest to God,” Tack kept muttering as he moved away from me and toward the fridge, “she’s pissed I’m gettin’ her a glass of wine while I’m cookin’ for her.”

“I’m not pissed, pissed. I’m mildly pissed but only because you won’t let me help,” I amended.

Tack stopped, fingers wrapped around the fridge door handle, and he twisted to me. “Tomorrow, you can take care of me. Deal?”

I stared at him. Then I agreed, “Deal.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, I saw his grin right before his head disappeared in the fridge.

Then it occurred to me that I could argue about every fucking thing, including Tack getting me a glass of wine.

Which even I had to admit was ridiculous.

But, if that grin was any indication, Tack liked it.

So I looked at my lap and grinned too.

Because I was, at that moment, really glad he did.

My head snapped back and I gasped, “Oh my God.”

Then I came. Hard.

The instant I did, Tack whipped me to my back and kept pounding deep. So I wrapped all four limbs around him tight and kept coming. Harder.

“Fuck,” Tack muttered against my mouth between grunts, “my girl’s got a greedy fuckin’ pussy.”

He was right. I did. Because I was still coming.

When I stopped coming, Tack was still driving deep and it felt so freaking good, it started to build again.

I held him tight, lifting my hips to take him deeper and slid one hand up his back, his neck and into his thick, longish hair as I whispered against his lips, his goatee tickling my skin, “Honey, you have to come or I’m gonna come again.”

“This is a problem?” he grunted back.

I saw his point.

So I smiled against his mouth.

He slanted his head and kissed me.

About thirty seconds later, I came again.

About a minute after that, Tack did.

About thirty seconds after that, Tack’s hand slid lightly down the skin of my side, causing tingles that hit mid-range on the pleasant scale but high on the soothing scale and his lips at my neck whispered, “Like that.”

I liked it too. All of it. Going down on him and Tack returning the favor. Then, because he was so good at it, getting greedy, pushing him to his back and him letting me. Then climbing on and riding him until I came. And last, finishing when he flipped me and rode me until I came again and he did too.

Yeah, I liked it. All of it.

“I like it too,” I whispered then suggested. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk, just have sex. Obviously, that works for us.”

His head came up and his dancing eyes caught mine. “Obviously. But that wasn’t what I was talkin’ about.”

“What were you talking about?”

“You called me ‘honey’,” he answered then muttered, “Sweeter, hearing you say that when I’m buried inside you.”

His words hit me and that hit was well above the mid-range of the pleasant scale

“Though, wouldn’t know,” he went on, “since you haven’t called me that except just now when I was buried inside you.”

My head tilted on the mattress. “I haven’t?”

“Nope. You’ve called my kids that. You’ve called your girl that. You haven’t called me that.”

Boy, he’d really been paying attention.

“Well, I didn’t know I liked you until about eight fifteen this morning so that’s not surprising.”

He grinned. “You knew you liked me.”

Arrogant. Annoying. But hot.

“I didn’t,” I retorted. “Except that first night but I thought that was a fluke because, since then, you were a jerk.”

His grin got bigger.

“Sometimes a scary jerk,” I went on.

His grin turned into a smile.

“And, I will admit, sometimes a sweet jerk.”

He started chuckling and I liked that since he was still on me and inside me so I tightened my limbs around him and enjoyed the ride.

But, like all rides, it ended. Fortunately, it ended with Tack pulling out gently then rolling both of us so we were righted in the bed and I had one side in the covers and one side resting on him. I slid my arm along his belly, laid my cheek on his shoulder and relaxed into him.

“Now that you know I’m not a jerk, I gonna hear more of that?” he asked when we’d settled and I lifted my head to look at him to see his goatee’d chin dipped down to look at me.

“You want to hear it?” I asked back, my voice soft.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why?”

“’Cause, babe, you say it to people you like and people who mean somethin’ to you and clue in, I wanna be both.”

Oh God.

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to his shoulder.

Damn.

Yes. This definitely felt like I had my dream man.

“You really can’t handle sweet,” he noted on a mutter.

“No, I really can’t,” I replied to his shoulder and his arm came around so his fingers could sift into my hair.

“Fair warning, Red, you’re gonna have to suck it up.”

A startled laugh fluttered out of my throat and I lifted my head to look at him. And when I did, I saw his handsome head resting on my pillow, I felt his hard, warm body under mine and I liked both so much it hurt. But in a good way.

Therefore, stupidly, I blurted, “I like you here.”

His eyes warmed, his fingers curled around the back of my head and he murmured, “Red.”

“Please take care of this with me,” I whispered.

His head gave a slight jerk then his eyes focused intensely on mine.

“The reason you haven’t been tied to a man,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You’ve been fucked over,” he guessed inaccurately.

But I couldn’t tell him the reason I wanted him to help me take care of what we had. It was too new. Way too new. I didn’t trust it yet. I couldn’t trust him with the knowledge that he colored my world.

He knew, in essence, that I feared what he made me feel.

He just didn’t get how big it was.

And I wasn’t ready to share that with him.

“Men are men and they do stupid shit that hurts, handsome, but that’s not it,” I shared. “But I’ll tell you what it is. Later. Tonight, let’s just have this.”

He was silent a moment, eyes holding mine, then he replied, “I’ll give you that play.”

I grinned at him and whispered, “Thanks.”

He grinned back and used his hand at my head to pull my mouth to his.

Once he’d touched my lips lightly to his, he let me back a couple of inches and asked, “Your pussy get enough or does it need more attention?”

“I think it’s good,” I answered then finished, “for now.”

His eyes danced again. “You’ll tell me, I need to get down to business.”

“I’ll keep you in that loop.”

I watched his eyes dance more before he asked softly, “You wanna clean up or sleep with me inside you?”

I felt my heart flutter at this question. I liked the intimacy of it. I liked the language he used. What I never liked was sleeping after sex without cleaning up. But the way he asked that made me want to keep him with me.

So I answered quietly, “You inside me.”

“Good, baby, now shift under the covers,” he ordered but he was still talking softly.

I liked that too.

Moving with Tack, I shifted under the covers. He twisted to turn the light off on his side of the bed and I rolled to turn the light off on mine. Then he claimed me and settled us exactly as we were before, me tucked to his side, my cheek to his shoulder, arm around his gut and his arm under me, wrapped around, hand resting on my waist.

This, I’d never had. Five lovers, two longish term, none were cuddlers. And I knew Tack was one because he settled us this way, because he’d curled into me the only other time we slept in the same bed and he’d snuggled with me when we slept on my couch.

And I liked this too.

“Thank you for dinner. It was yummy,” I murmured to his chest in the dark and this was no lie. His chops and stuffing rivaled his fajitas. His potatoes were so good, they rivaled his pancakes. And he melted butter to pour on his green beans and sprinkled them with real, crispy bacon bits. The dinner was a triple pork threat. The calories and fat it contained had to be off-the-charts. It was also divine.

“Glad you liked it, darlin’.”

“Is the office going to be a nightmare now that I’ve had two unexpected days off?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t work in the office. But you’ll find out tomorrow.”

This was true.

I kept talking. “Do you cook like that all the time?”

“It’s worth eatin’, it’s worth puttin’ the time in to make it taste good.”

This was true too.

“So is that a yes?”

“No, it isn’t a yes. It’s a, if I cook, I do it right. But a lot of the time I don’t have the time so it’s takeout.”

“Even when you have your kids?”

“Even when I have the kids. Though sometimes Rush or Tabby’ll get a wild hair and try something. Rush has inherited his old man’s talent in the kitchen. Tabby gets workin’ near a stove, it’s a crapshoot.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, finding this both interesting and his telling of it sweet. Then I asked, “What’s that red car you’re working on?” and when I did, Tack burst out laughing.

I lifted my head and looked at him through the dark. “What’s funny?”

“Babe, you goin’ to sleep or we gonna have a conversation in the dark?”

“I thought we were getting to know each other.”

“We are and we did, in a lot of ways, Red. You provin’ you can ride me even harder and faster than that first night we had together bein’ my favorite part. But now I’m wiped. You wanna talk, store that shit up and we’ll do it at my place tomorrow night.”

“You’re wiped?”

I felt his hand land on my face, his palm at my jaw, fingers light on my cheek and he replied, “Two nights ago, I fucked up and hurt a woman I’d come to care about. I been waiting for this morning, hopin’ you’d roll up to Ride and I wouldn’t have to hunt you down. But if you were really pissed at me in a way I couldn’t fix, this morning could have gone different. Thinkin’ on that and all the other shit swirling in my life, the last two nights I haven’t slept all that great. But I ate good, I just came hard, I’m in your bed, you like me here and you called me honey so I’m thinkin’ tonight’s my night. That is, if you’d shut up and let me sleep.”

“I’ll shut up and let you sleep,” I offered immediately because I liked all of that and I liked it most of all.

And what I liked best of that most of all was knowing that he was worried I wouldn’t forgive him and if I hadn’t come to Ride, he was going to find me.

He wasn’t going to let me go.

I did matter.

“So, you gonna settle in and let me sleep or you gonna stare at me in the dark while I do that?” he asked when I didn’t move and kept staring at him in the dark.

“I’ll settle,” I whispered then did what I told him I’d do.

I was looking at the shadowed planes of his chest, feeling warm and fuzzy and I’d been doing this for a while when Tack muttered, “Every day, somethin’ new. Will I ever get to the heart of you?”

I pulled in a deep breath.

Damn, but I liked that too and the part I liked was it sounded like he both wanted to and didn’t but either way would be fine with him.

“I don’t know. No one has ever tried,” I answered quietly.

“Well, darlin’, gratitude. ‘Cause you just ensured I’ll sleep good knowin’ I’m the first man who gets that shot.”

That made me turn my head, press my face in his skin and deep breathe to control happy tears.

“Fuck me, she really can’t handle sweet,” he muttered to the ceiling.

“So stop doing it,” I suggested.

“Not a chance,” he returned.

God, I hoped not.

I really, really did.

My eyes opened to the early dawn light weakly shining through the curtains and dimly lighting the room.

And what I saw was Tack’s chest and his tats.

We were in the same position we’d fallen asleep in, me tucked tight to his side, cheek cushioned by his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me, mine wrapped around his gut.

We hadn’t moved, either of us, all night.

I liked that. So much my hand slid up his side, over his chest and to his neck where my fingers curled around but my thumb moved out to glide along the stubble next to the edge of his goatee. As I did this, I turned my head to kiss his shoulder. Then, with the tip of my tongue, I trailed a path to his nipple where I let my tongue swirl.

He tasted great.

His arm around my waist tightened and I lifted my head just enough to see his sleepy, sexy, already heated blue eyes on me.

“You need to get down to business,” I whispered and his eyes went from heated to hot.

Then his other arm locked around me. He rolled me to my back and he did what he needed to do, proving Elvira right.

Biker boys knew how to live.