Motorcycle Man (Dream Man #4)(19)

“What did you think?” I whispered.

“She shoulda cut his throat with the razor,” Tack replied and I grinned.

Definitely scary biker dude.

Then I said, “She didn’t have that in her.”

“Right,” he muttered.

“And if she did, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn how to be a better person and find absolution.”

Tack stared at me intently for a few beats. Then he repeated quietly, “Right.”

“So did you like it?” I pressed.

“Not really a movie you like, Red,” he answered.

“I think it’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Not sure you understand the concept of beauty, darlin’.”

“Truth, honesty, perseverance, strength, love of all kinds and forgiveness are all beautiful, Tack. The most beautiful stories ever told are the most difficult to take.”

For a few more beats he again stared at me intently then he said, this time on a whisper, “Right,” and his eyes didn’t release mine.

I liked him looking at me like that. I liked him being like this. I liked pizza, beer and sad movies with an easy-to-be-with Tack. This was what I thought I’d found a week ago and here it was, in my living room.

God, what did I do now?

“You got any movies that don’t make you cry?” Tack asked and I blinked up at him.

“Yeah,” I answered.

He shifted me off him, lifted his legs off the coffee table, got up and went to my TV. He ejected the DVD, crouched in front of the cabinet and then dug through it, pulling out DVDs at random and totally ruining the alphabetical organization of my films. Then he opened a case, slid in another DVD and came back to the couch. He grabbed the remote from the end table and then he settled in again.

And when he settled, he did not slouch. He did not put his feet up on the table. No, he laid down flat on his back, ankles crossed, head on a toss pillow on the armrest. While he did this, he arranged me tucked into his side with my back to the back of the couch and my front plastered down his side.

Oh boy. Maybe it was time for me to start being smart.

I lifted up with a hand in his chest and looked down at him.

His eyes were on the TV and his arm with the remote in his hand was stretched out and aimed at the TV.

“Tack –”

He didn’t even look at me when he muttered, “Relax, Red.”

I started to push up from his chest and his arm around my waist got tight as his head turned my way.

Then he whispered, “Relax.”

I stared down at him. He turned his head back to the TV, hit some buttons and then tossed the remote on the coffee table. His arm curled me deeper into his body as his other hand went behind his head.

Speed started on the TV.

“Tack –”

“Relax.”

“Um –”

Another squeeze and his head turned to me.

“Baby,” he said softly in his gravelly voice, I felt that one word in my belly and it felt nice. “Relax.”

His eyes were warm, his arm was tight and his body against me was hard.

I bit my lip.

Then I made another decision and relaxed.

An hour later, I fell asleep with my cheek to Tack’s chest, my arm curved around his gut and my legs tangled in his.

* * * * *

I woke up confused.

It was dark and I was trapped in some kind of comfy cocoon. I sluggishly surveyed my situation and it hit me that I was sleeping on the couch with Tack. My head was cushioned on his bicep, my cheek pressed to his chest, his forearm was wrapped around my shoulders, his other arm resting on my waist. My arm was draped around his, my leg was hitched over his hip and his leg was cocked and resting between mine.

Okay, damn, this felt nice. Beautiful. Special. Perfect.

Maybe I wasn’t wrong a week ago because this felt right.

Really right.

Dreamy.

I snuggled closer. Tack’s arm around my waist tightened unconsciously before it went loose again and a second later, I fell back to sleep.

* * * * *

I was being lifted and I opened my eyes to see weak light in the room.

It was dawn.

My arm automatically slid around Tack’s neck and I whispered, “Tack.”

“Sh, baby,” he whispered back, walking and carrying me.

I pressed my forehead into his neck and sighed.

Then I felt myself going down and I was in my bed, head on my pillow. I turned to my side and my eyes slid to him to see Tack standing beside the bed pulling the covers over me.

“Are you leaving?” I asked quietly.

“Got things to do,” he answered just as quietly.

“Okay,” I whispered, my eyes drifting closed and, as they did this, I felt the sweet sweep of his thumb across the apple of my cheek.

Then I felt his presence leaving me, my eyes drifted open and I saw he’d almost made it to my bedroom door.

“Tack?” I called, he stopped and turned.

“Yeah, baby.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

He grinned and it was no less sexy when I was half asleep.

“You’re welcome darlin’,” he replied and I grinned back as my eyes drifted closed again. Then I heard a muttered, “Pepperoni next time,” before I fell back to sleep.