Motorcycle Man (Dream Man #4)(35)

Then he whispered in my ear, “Sleep, baby, it’s all gonna be all right.”

He thought I was worried about Elliott and Lanie and he was being sweet about it.

I closed my eyes tighter, took another deep breath and let it go.

Then I whispered back, “Okay, Tack.”

“’Night, Red.”

“’Night.”

I felt his lips touch the back of my neck then I felt his weight settle into me again and a little while later I heard his steady breathing.

A little while after that, mine joined his.

Chapter Eleven

You Forget Somethin’?

I woke and felt the morning, bright Colorado sunshine on my eyelids. I rolled to my back and opened my eyes. Then I rolled to my other side and smelled musk and man.

Tack.

I breathed deep.

Mm. Nice.

I blinked and saw my alarm clock said it was ten to nine and I stared.

Ten to nine!

Damn! I was supposed to be at work an hour ago!

I threw the covers back and scrambled out of bed. My feet hit the ground running but I tripped and went flying, righting myself just before I took a header. I looked back to see what I’d tripped on and it was Tack’s boots.

Then I stared at Tack’s boots beside my bed, liking the sight of them lying there just like I liked the smell of him on my sheets.

Holy hell.

I scurried to the door, threw it open and was going to head to the bathroom but I heard the murmur of voices coming from the kitchen and stopped. I looked to Lanie’s door and saw it was open. Something weird seeped into me, I stopped rushing and walked slowly toward the living room, rounded the wall and moved just into the kitchen.

My kitchen was long and narrow, running the length of the house. At the front of it was the dining area, the bulk of the kitchen was beyond a short bar with two barstools in front of it. One of those barstools held Lanie’s firm, slim ass, her body encased in a shimmery, short silk kimono-style robe complete with beautiful embroidery on the back most of which you couldn’t see because her gleaming, thick dark hair was flowing down her back. Across the bar from her was Tack, wearing his gray tee from the day before and his jeans. They both held coffee mugs. Lanie was in profile and she’d not twenty-four hours ago found out her beloved fiancé was the kind of guy who would track down a biker in a failed attempt to have someone whacked. Not to mention, she hated Tack and wanted me to quit my job so I’d never see him again. But I still saw they both were smiling so big it looked like they’d just stopped laughing.

Something in my heart spasmed at this sight. Lanie was my friend and she had been for fifteen years. I knew she was beautiful, I’d been walking at her side or sitting on a barstool next to her or at a table with her enough times to notice the appreciating glances, see the drinks sent her way, watch the men slide in beside her but that was the way of the world. Beautiful women got attention. And she was my Lanie, I was happy for her that she did.

But two weeks ago I watched Tack making out with a gorgeous, slim brunette and now he was laughing in my kitchen with one. And even though she was my friend who I knew wouldn’t go there, whether or not Elliott was in or just dumped on his ass out of the picture, I didn’t like it.

And I didn’t like that I didn’t like it.

Holy hell, now I was getting multiple personalities.

Tack’s eyes went from Lanie to me, his smile stayed in place and his chin tipped up. “Mornin’, babe.”

Lanie spun on her barstool toward me. “Hey, Ty-Ty.”

“Hey,” I muttered, walking in directly to Lanie. I got close and slid her hair off her shoulder. “You okay this morning?”

“No,” she answered, her eyes slid to Tack, she smiled beautifully at him, her innate elegance radiating from every pore, even makeup-less, in a kimono and with slightly puffy eyes from the crying jag yesterday. Then she looked back to me and stated, “But Tack’s pancakes go a long way to soothe the ravaged soul of a woman who just found out her fiancé is whacked.”

Tack chuckled. I looked down at my bar to see a plate that once held something covered with maple syrup.

Tack had made Lanie pancakes.

I didn’t like that either.

“You want pancakes, Red?” Tack asked and I looked up at him thinking he looked good in my kitchen. Really good. And also thinking he looked like he belonged in it with Lanie.

Damn.

“Nope,” I murmured, giving Lanie a bump with my body and heading around the bar to the coffeepot. “I need coffee and to jump in the shower. I’m late for work.”

I stopped in front of the coffeemaker, grabbed a mug and was in the process of dropping my arm when I suddenly found myself pressed to the counter and what was pressing me was Tack’s long, hard body.

His arms curved around my ribs then I felt his goatee rough against my neck as his chin shifted my hair aside then his face was in my neck.

“You forget somethin’?” His gravelly voice rumbled in a murmur against my skin.

“Yeah, to turn on my alarm,” I answered, my body still as a statue but every inch of my skin was tingling.

“No you didn’t. I turned it off.”

“You did?” I asked the cupboard.

“You’re off today, seein’ to your friend. Boss’s orders.”

“Tack –”