Motorcycle Man (Dream Man #4)(110)



“Knivezzzz, plural,” Rush answered.

“Holy crap,” I whispered.

“Right, quit freakin’ out Tyra,” Tack muttered. “Your sister up?”

“She will be, she smells bacon fryin’ and knows pancakes are comin’,” Rush threw out his thinly veiled request for his father to start cracking on breakfast.

“I’m not sure, honey,” I put in. “She had a rough night.”

“Uh, Tyra, you’ve eaten Dad’s pancakes. Rough night, wild night, hell night, you get up for Dad’s pancakes.”

I suspected this was true.

“Go check on her,” Tack ordered.

“A man takes a load off and right away, he’s ordered to put one back on,” Rush groused as he got to his feet.

“Boy, you just been sleepin’,” Tack returned.

“Whatever,” Rush murmured, humor in his voice as he slid inside.

If Tabby was up, I had little time.

Even if she wasn’t, Rush would be back soon so I still had little time.

So I didn’t delay in throwing it out there.

“Can I talk to her first?”

Tack looked hard at me. “You want to?”

“I think…” I hesitated then answered, “Yes, I want to.”

“You think what?”

I took in breath.

Then I told him, “I think, if I’m going to be around, that I broke her trust last night. And I think, since I am going to be around, I shouldn’t delay in getting it back.”

“How’d you break her trust?”

“She didn’t want to make it a big deal. I went off half-cocked and made it a big deal.”

“You’re a big girl, babe, and you get to make those decisions. She’s sixteen. She don’t get that yet nor does she get to be pissed at the decisions you make.”

“She gets whatever she wants, Tack. It’s her emotions and unless they’re handled with care, since she’s feeling a lot of them, it’s clear most of them are no good, she’s acting on them and not in good ways, that cycle won’t be broken unless they are. Her emotions handled with care, I mean. Not to mention, I don’t think she has a woman she trusts, she was giving that to me, I took it away and I have to give it back.”

“You got a plan of attack?” he asked.

“No, I’m going to wing it,” I answered.

“Then yeah, you talk but I’m here. So’s Rush. Sortin’ Tab’s shit is a family thing,” he declared and I sucked in a sharp breath.

A family thing.

“Red?”

“I waited a long time,” I whispered.

“For what?” he asked.

“For you.”

I watched a shadow darken his face.

“You do not get to do that shit,” he growled and I blinked.

“What?”

“Make me wanna pick you up, carry you to my bed and f**k you hard to show my appreciation for bein’ so damn sweet I got a toothache, a f**kin’ toothache I f**kin’ like when I got pancakes to make and a daughter’s shit to sort.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Fuck, I’m not even close.”

“To what?”

“The heart of you. You run so f**kin’ deep, I’ll never get there.”

God.

“Lookin’ forward to a lifetime of diggin’, babe.”

God!

“Now you’re being sweet,” I accused, my voice wobbly.

“Used to it yet?”

“No.”

“You got a lifetime to get there too.”

Seriously.

I could take no more.

“Shut up.”

“I will, you kiss me.”

“Rush and/or Tabby might be here any minute.”

“I didn’t tell you to go down on me.”

My eyes narrowed and I couldn’t see it but even I knew it was ominously.

“Tack!”

“Kiss me, Red.”

“Tack!”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, shifted, leaned into me, hooked me at the back of my head and then he kissed me.

I was sitting in my chair, tingling from top-to-toe and Tack was moving into the house with both of our mugs to refill as Rush slid by him to come out, muttering, “She’s gettin’ up.”

So Tack got his kiss before Rush came back.

And I got to sit in the Colorado sunshine knowing without a doubt I had my hands straight up in the air, tucked so secure, I was safe to enjoy the ride.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

One of Us

It was Sunday afternoon and I was pressed close to Tack on his bike because we were heading down into Denver. Sheila had got a wild hair and decided to throw a barbeque so she made enough potato salad for the entirety of Chaos and bossed Dog into manning the huge barrel grill outside the Compound.

So we were heading down to get our bratwurst and commune with the brethren on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

The sun was shining, the wind was in my hair, I was pressed close to my man, heading toward a grilled brat and life was sweet.

And as we rode, my mind was running over the day before and my lips were smiling.

Not long after Tack left the deck, Rush returned to it, I came to terms with the fact that I was a roller coaster type of girl and was reflecting on the fact that not only was Tack’s house awesome, there was no lawn to mow, it occurred to me that Tack was taking a long time refilling my coffee.

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