Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(74)

He grinned. “You want, you can go with that. I don’t mind.”

“Tate –”

He cut me off. “But I’m forty-four.”

“Tate –”

“Though, it’s okay with me my old lady looks older than me.”

“Tate!” I snapped.

“Or thinks she does,” he continued.

I glared at him. He kept grinning.

Mack, Caroline and Mom entered the room; I heard them and slid off Tate’s chest to look their way.

“Hey,” I greeted when I saw them all looking at us, Mack’s lips twitching, Mom out and out smiling and Carrie giving me a look that said she thought I was in the middle of full on leaping without checking first where I might land.

“Hey,” Carrie replied as I felt Tate’s body get tight against mine.

“Mack, turn that up,” he ordered, straightening and taking his feet from the table, effectively taking my feet and body with his.

“What?” Mack asked.

“TV, turn it up,” Tate reiterated and he was pulling us both to our feet.

When I gained my feet, my head tipped back and I saw his eyes were glued to the television screen so my head turned and my eyes went there as well.

There was a male newsreader on the TV and I could barely hear him talking but I could see the words “May December Murderer” in a graphic behind him.

“Oh my God,” I breathed and Mack turned the TV volume up.

“…victim yesterday,” the newsreader said. “The police of Chantelle, Colorado think this latest murder is the victim of what is known in police circles as the ‘May December Murderer’.”

“Chantelle,” I whispered.

“Our f**kin’ backyard,” Tate growled and I felt that dark energy radiating from him but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the TV.

The newsreader kept talking. “However, this incident is outside the perpetrator’s usual schedule and police and FBI are concerned these murders, now eight in total with the same modus operandi, are escalating.” The newsreader turned to another camera. “We’ll be back with more…”

I stopped listening because Tate’s body moved and I turned to him to see he was digging his cell out of his back pocket.

“Tate,” I whispered.

“A minute, Ace,” he muttered.

“What?” Carrie asked as she, Mom and Mack got closer.

I turned to them uncertain what to say. They wouldn’t exactly want me flying back home when a serial killer was on the loose.

Tate moved away and he had his cell to his ear.

“What?” Carrie asked again as my family made it to me.

“That’s um…” I started, bit my lip then finished, “the murderer Tate was hunting the last month.”

“Oh my,” Mom breathed, Mack looked over his shoulder at the TV but Carrie’s eyes stayed locked on me.

“Tonia?” she asked and I nodded. “Holy cow,” she finished on a breathy whisper.

I licked my lips.

Tate returned, got in my space and his hand came to my neck where it met my shoulder. His face was serious but his eyes were conflicted.

“Babe –” he began.

I interrupted him. “You have to go.”

He used his hand at my neck to pull me closer and I put mine to his waist.

“Ace –” he said softly.

I leaned closer. “It’s okay, Tate.”

“Your Dad –”

“We’re okay.”

“I wouldn’t –”

I pressed against him, my hands sliding up so my fingers could curl around his shoulders.

“Honey, it’s okay,” I said quietly. “Go.”

He closed his eyes and when he opened them what I saw in them made my body automatically move closer.

“Baby,” he muttered as his head dipped then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn’t a Tate kiss that took me out of mind and into my body but it was long and it was definitely sweet (and there was tongue which made it sweeter).

He lifted his head but stayed in my space.

“Text me when you get up, when you get ready to go somewhere tellin’ me where you’re goin’, when you get there, when you leave and when you go to sleep,” he ordered.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Be smart, Laurie.” He kept ordering.

“Okay.” I kept whispering.

“Locked doors, in cars, houses –”

“Okay.”

“Be aware of where you are, who you’re with –”

“Tate –”

“Don’t open any f**kin’ doors unless you’re sure who’s behind them.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise, Ace.”

“I promise, Captain. I’ll be safe.”

Tate stared at me.

Then he whispered, “Fucker was in my backyard.”

“Go, baby,” I urged softly.

He touched his mouth to mine, his hand at my neck gave me a squeeze then he let me go and turned to Mack.

“Give me a ride to the hotel?” he asked.

“Absolutely, Tate,” Mack replied.