Motorcycle Man (Dream Man #4)(29)

But Elliott was brilliant, a genius and not one of those socially awkward or arrogant geniuses. He was easy to talk to. He was funny. He was sweet. He was thoughtful. He was generous and he was kind. He never missed Lanie’s birthday and always bought her the perfect present, not always something expensive, but always something she wanted or something meaningful. Ditto with anniversaries. She said he made her laugh. She said he listened when she had a bad day. She said he held her when they slept. And she said she knew beyond any doubt she was the most important thing in the world to him. So Goddess Lanie saw beyond Elliott’s looks and he became the most important thing in the world to her.

They were a love match. Surprising to some, I was sure, but real. And because he made my best friend happy, I adored him.

“What’s up?” I asked, moving forward only to be tugged back, again bizarrely, into Tack’s body. This was bizarre not because he was holding me, which, I was getting, he intended to do whenever the hell he felt like it. No, it was bizarre how he was doing it.

In the hall, his natural badassness made me feel casually safe.

Right now, his tight hold and the feel of his hard body, statue-still and weirdly alert at my back, made me feel he was intentionally keeping me safe.

What on earth?

“Uh… I was wondering –” Elliott started.

“Is Lanie here?” I asked because I didn’t want Lanie there. I was a little panicked that she’d come storming in at any moment, see Tack, see his kids, see the evidence of fajitas and the movie and lose her mind.

Lanie might be pure elegance from top-to-toe but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be pure drama and when Lanie let it rip, watch out.

“No,” Eliott replied, his eyes went over my shoulder and up and he asked, “Can I uh… Kane… er, Mr. Allen, can I talk to you?”

I stared at Elliott wondering what he was on about and who he was talking to.

Elliott’s eyes flitted to me then back to Tack when he finished, “Alone.”

That was when my body went statute-still.

It stayed statue-still for approximately a nanosecond before I heard Tack say to Elliott, “Don’t move,” then he turned me around, let me go, grabbed my hand and I found myself tugged down the hall. Then I found myself in my room and the door was again closed.

I tipped my head back to stare up at Tack.

“How do you know that guy?” he asked.

“He’s my best friend’s fiancé,” I answered.

Tack looked down to the floor and muttered, “Fuck.”

Okay, now he was scaring me again but for a different reason.

“What?” I whispered.

His head came up and his eyes caught mine. “I’m gonna take him out to the back deck. When I do that, I need you to promise me you’ll stay in the living room with my kids and you won’t listen. Can you promise me that, Tyra?”

Ohmigod! What was going on?

“Why?” I breathed.

“Promise me.”

I leaned in and put a hand to his chest. “Why?” I repeated.

His hand curled around the back of my neck and his face dipped close. “I’ll explain why later if you promise me now, baby,” he said gently.

I stared into his eyes as fear filled my heart. Then, for some crazy reason, I nodded.

“Words, baby, give me the words,” he demanded.

“I promise,” I whispered.

His head tilted, his mouth touched mine, he let my neck go and grabbed my hand again. Two seconds later we were in the living room.

“Back deck,” Tack growled then he prowled to the kitchen and disappeared, Elliott following him and the whole time he did, he avoided my eyes.

I heard the door slam and my body jumped when I did.

“You okay, Tyra?” Rush asked quietly, my eyes slid to him and it was then I realized I was trembling.

“Yeah, honey, I’m fine,” I lied and threw him a fake smile. “That movie just freaked me out a bit and your Dad was um… helping me out with that.” I kept lying.

“Yeah, bet he was,” Tabby said on a giggle then collapsed in a full body plop on my couch.

But Rush didn’t move. He studied me like his father had a tendency to do and I guessed he didn’t buy the fake smile or the lies. I didn’t have time to consider the fact that Rush was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and astute. Something bad was happening and I only had time to consider that. So I curled into the armchair Tack had vacated and after a moment’s hesitation and further study of me, Rush stretched out on the floor again and started the movie. We watched perhaps five minutes of it before we heard the backdoor open.

I jumped out of the chair and Rush paused the movie like he’d been listening for the door too. I was on my feet and Rush was at my side by the time Elliott and Tack reentered the room.

Elliott came straight to me and grabbed my upper arms. I felt Rush close to my side but all I could see was Elliott’s pale, plainly freaked way the hell out face and panicked eyes.

“Don’t tell Lanie,” he begged on a whisper.

“Get your hands off her,” I heard Tack growl and felt Rush get closer and Tack closing in but I only had eyes for Elliott.

“Don’t tell her what?” I whispered.

“Don’t tell her,” he pleaded.