Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(32)

“You gotta cross the room, Ace, I ain’t movin’.”

I didn’t think. I just crossed the room.

When I made it to him, I fitted myself to his long body, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek against his chest. When I was done, his arms came around me so tight, he squeezed the breath out of me.

I felt him rest his cheek against the top of my head.

“Now, how’d I know you’d do that?” he asked a question he didn’t expect an answer to which was good because he might have known but, until I did it, I didn’t know.

“You aren’t responsible, honey,” I whispered to his chest.

“Keep sayin’ it, baby, maybe it’ll sink in.”

“You aren’t responsible.”

He gave me a squeeze.

“Betty told me what you do,” I said quietly.

Tate didn’t reply.

“Are you gonna find him?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna find him, though they think they want me to but they sure as f**k don’t.”

I tipped my head back to look at him and his head went up when I did.

“Why not?”

“I find him, Ace, I’m gonna rip his dick off and shove it down his throat.”

I couldn’t stop my face from scrunching together and my mouth muttering, “Gross.”

He smiled at me, my face unscrunched and I stared at his mouth.

He released me with one of his arms so his hand could come up to my cup jaw.

“Laurie, I’ll find him,” he promised.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“So you don’t worry,” he said.

I nodded and my nod didn’t disengage his hand. “Okay.”

“You believe me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered and I did.

“So you’ll have sweet dreams?”

Oh.

My.

God.

My body melted into his of its own accord.

“Tate,” was all I could say.

I watched and held my breath as his face dipped close to mine, he used his hand at my jaw to tip mine further up toward his and I closed my eyes at the last second, thinking, even hoping he was going to kiss me but I felt the side of his nose brush the side of mine then I felt his lips against my forehead.

“Seven o’clock, babe, on my bike,” he muttered there then kissed me, let me go, set me away, turned and disappeared out the door.

I stared at the empty hall for very long moments.

Then I stared at it for more.

Then I asked the empty hall, “What just happened?”

There was no reply.

* * * * *

At a quarter to four, the door opened, Krystal walked in and I stared.

Her hair was no longer platinum blonde but ebony. The change was startling and it looked good on her.

When I could unglue my eyes from The New Krystal, I saw there was a man at her heels and then I stared at him.

He was huge, as in mammoth. He had to be nearly seven foot tall; he had light brown hair and a full, thick beard. His shoulders were broad, his legs like tree trunks, his arms like stout branches and he had a big belly that worked on him because it, too, looked solid and it fit in with the rest of his massive physique. He was wearing a loose-fitting white t-shirt, faded jeans and Carnal’s requisite motorcycle boots.

His eyes hit me and got big then he boomed, “Right on!” and came right at me.

I didn’t have time for an evasive maneuver before his fingers curled around my shoulder, giving it a rough jerk and my body collided with his. His arms wrapped around me and he swung me side to side.

“Lauren, Super Waitress!” he shouted over my head and I tipped it back to look at him when he stopped rocking me.

“Um… hi,” I said.

He looked down at me and introduced himself, “Bubba.”

“I guessed that,” I told him and he smiled and his smile was as huge and overwhelming as everything else about him.

“Krys told me about you. Told me you were the shit,” he informed me and my eyes slid to Krystal who was standing by Jim-Billy at his end of the bar and she was watching us with an expressionless face (outside of looking mildly annoyed).

I was pretty shocked by this compliment. Krystal seemed a hard nut to crack. I couldn’t imagine she was at home telling Bubba I was good at my job. I imagined when she was at home she spent her time contemplating the numerous things that annoyed her, why they did and how they’d never stop or, if Bubba was home, she’d spend her time giving him stick. Not praising me.

“Thanks, that’s nice,” I said to Bubba and he let me go.

“Finally, a decent waitress,” he declared, lumbering behind the bar and going straight to a fridge to pull out a beer. He turned around and twisted off the top. “Uh… not to speak ill of the dead.”

I looked at Jim-Billy and saw him wince. Then I looked back at Bubba to see Krystal, fast as lightning, was at his side and reaching up to curl her fingers around the wrist he had raised to down some brew and she yanked on it. Beer sloshed out and got in Bubba’s beard and down his shirt.

“Woman!” he shouted, swiping at his beard.

“You’re here to work, Bub, not tie one on,” she snapped.

“What’s the point of ownin’ a bar if you can’t have a freakin’ beer?” he shot back.