Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(23)
“I don’t have a number,” I told him. “I’m at the hotel.”
“Ace,” Tate bit off quietly and I looked at him to see, for some reason, he was shaking his head.
“You don’t have a cell?” Wood asked and I looked at him.
“Well, I do, it just isn’t charged and has a Phoenix number. I haven’t charged it in four months.”
All the men stared at me, including Shambles, but it was Tate who spoke.
“Babe, what in the f**k are you thinking?”
I looked up at him and saw that, just like anytime I was around Tate, I’d done something to piss him off.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Jesus, honest to God, are you insane?” Tate asked.
“Why?” I snapped, because, just like anytime I was around Tate, he did something to piss me off.
“A woman alone without a goddamned phone?” Tate went on.
“Yes, so?”
Tate turned fully to me and got closer. “So?”
“So?” I repeated.
He looked over my head and muttered, “Christ almighty.” Then his eyes came back to mine. “You got a death wish?”
I put my hand to my hip and asked acidly, “Captain, tell me, how does me not having a cell phone translate into me having a death wish?”
“It ain’t safe,” he answered.
“I’m standing here breathing, aren’t I?” I shot back.
“Way you’re goin’, Ace, I give you a month,” he returned.
“I can take care of myself,” I snapped.
“You aren’t in suburbia anymore, babe,” he informed me.
“Yeah, I’m not,” I retorted and leaned into him. “Duh!”
Tate’s face turned to stone.
It would seem, considering I continued to speak regardless of Tate’s stony expression, that I might have a death wish.
“Jeez, Captain, it’s a town filled with bikers, not Viking marauders!”
That’s when I watched Tate’s face turn to granite.
“Uh… Flower Petal,” Shambles edged close and took my hand, “maybe we should get you some coffee.”
I didn’t pry my eyes away from Tate’s furious ones as I spoke to Shambles. “That sounds great.”
Shambles tugged at my hand and I continued glaring at Tate and he continued scowling at me as I walked two steps away. Then I looked to Wood and said, “Thanks, Wood. Lovely to meet you.”
Wood was looking at Tate but when I spoke to him his eyes came to mine, he smiled slow and he muttered, “Yeah, Lauren.”
“Bye,” I said to the gray-haired guy I hadn’t been introduced to.
“Later, sweetheart,” he replied.
Then I turned away and walked with Shambles out of the forecourt and turned with him on the sidewalk.
It didn’t occur to me until way later that Shambles and I held hands all the way to his shop.
* * * * *
Sunny and Shambles drove an old VW van and lived in a log cabin that was powered by two windmills. Every piece of land surrounding their cabin either had newly planted flowers or vegetables planted in it and they had a fledgling grape arbor. They told me they turned on the hot water heater half an hour before they needed hot water and turned it off when they were done. And we ate on the floor because most of their furniture was big pillows or bean bags.
They were also immensely kind, extraordinarily generous and Shambles had a gift in the kitchen – and not just with baked goods.
When I told them about my journey to Carnal, they both nodded as if in complete understanding.
Then Sunny said, “We so get that, Petal. That’s how we both felt the minute we drove into town.”
“It wasn’t anything,” Shambles went on. “It was just this feeling, this strong feeling, we both had it and it just screamed, here!”
“So we stayed here,” Sunny finished on a sweet smile, leaned forward, took my hand and squeezed.
They drove me home and, full of their good food and the homemade wine they brought from Austin, Texas where they used to live, I fell right to sleep.
But I woke up in the middle of night, as usual, but it wasn’t because I heard Tate saying I was fat and old. It was hearing his deep voice saying, “She’s mine.”
Tossing and turning and not able to get to sleep, I got up, booted up my laptop and sent my parents and sister another e-mail, telling them I thought I’d found my new home and telling them a little bit about Ned and Betty, Jim-Billy and Sunny and Shambles.
Still not sleepy after I sent my e-mail, I got up and looked out my window to the parking lot. There were two Harleys, an SUV and an old station wagon in the lot.
It was after three in the morning but I figured most people didn’t sleep light like me and swimming wasn’t loud so they wouldn’t hear me. I changed into my suit and went to the pool, slid in quietly and did my laps. I was getting better mostly because I was pushing myself not to take breaks, just to go slower and keep on going. I eeked out fifty laps with only two rest periods and then pulled myself out of the pool.
When I did, I heard a Harley idling somewhat close but that wasn’t unusual in Carnal so I didn’t even look. I just toweled off, pulled on my sweatpants, wrapped the towel around my hair, grabbed my flip-flops and sweatshirt and ran-walked to my room.