Motorcycle Man (Dream Man #4)(63)

“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 h*ps 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 f**kin’ 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 f**k 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 ass**le.”

“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.”