I sat at Cam and Leo’s kitchen table with Leo. I was in my nightshirt. Leo was in a gray t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. Cam had an early shift. Leo had a late one.
Leonard Freeman was all bulky, compacted muscle on an average height frame, kind black eyes and midnight skin. He was man from head-to-toe which made him perfect for Camille because, except for her lack of cleavage (which was camouflaged by her ample booty and beautiful face) she was all woman.
Leo took a sip of coffee and so did I.
Then he started, “Gwen –”
Nope. No. Where Camille Antoine was a straight-talker, Leo was a sage. If he lived back in ancient Greece, Leo would kick Plato’s ass. He had life figured out and in a flash he could read people and situations and know exactly what was going on. This made him a good cop but a dangerous friend.
Desperate, I shifted focus and because I was desperate, I opened my mouth and inserted my foot.
“Why haven’t you asked Cam to marry you?”
His eyes widened and he stared at me.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Did I actually say that?
“Um…” I started to backtrack but couldn’t figure out how.
“She wants to get married?” Leo asked and it was my turn to stare. Apparently, Leo being able to read everybody didn’t extend to his live-in girlfriend.
“Well…” I hesitated, “yeah.”
“Seriously?”
I blinked.
“Uh…” I hesitated again, “yeah.”
“I thought she was happy with the way things were,” he told me.
“She is,” I told him.
He stared.
Well, I brought us to this dire pass I had to lead us through it.
Shit!
“Are you happy with the way things are?” I probed cautiously.
“Fuck yeah,” he replied.
Well, at least that was firm.
“So… um, your hesitation with making it official has to do with…” I trailed off and lifted my eyebrows.
“It’s fine like it is, why change it?” he asked.
Okay, I was careening down the highway to the danger zone so I might as well shift up and engage the rocket launchers. The problem was, this meant explaining women to him and men never really were able to process that.
“All right, this is the gig,” I said and straightened in my chair, shifting my booty in it to indicate what I was saying needed his close attention. “Women like clothes, they like shoes, they like flowers and they like people to look at them and think, ‘God, she’s gorgeous.’ The more people who think that, the better it is. The one day in your life where you get all that rolled up into one is your wedding day. And it comes with jewelry and presents and ends with a vacation where it’s practically law that you have to wear fabulous underwear and have lots of sex.”
Leo flashed me a white smile showing that, likely, most of what I said was lost on him but I got through with the fabulous underwear and lots of sex so relief flooded through me.
Therefore, I reached out a hand and wrapped it on his forearm. “So, you give her that then you come home and it’s the same as it was before except you have towels and china in your house you didn’t have to buy.”
His arm twisted and he caught my hand then he gave it a squeeze.
Then he muttered, “This sounds good.”
“Well, lucky for you, you got it for free. I’m considering going on the road, holding classes for men, explaining things. I just need to hook up my commissions with wedding planners and really bad cover bands.”
This got me another white flash of smile even as he noted, “Engagement rings don’t exactly come cheap.”
“This is true but I’m Cam’s best friend and I’m not going to mess with any of that kitchen and bathroom bridal shower stuff. It’s all about lingerie.” I let his hand go and crossed my heart then lifted my hand, palm out. “Swear.”
“You break that promise, darlin’, and I gotta sort through garlic presses and other shit to find the bottle opener, you know I’ll make you pay,” he threatened.
“Camille doesn’t have a garlic press?” I asked, fake aghast.
This got me another white flash.
Then the white faded and his eyes grew intent. “She worried about this?”
“Cam?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” I answered honestly and quietly.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“She wants to be yours, Leo,” I told him.
“She is mine, Gwen,” he told me.
“Then let her show the world every day by giving her a ring.”
He held my eyes. Then he nodded once.
Then he said, “I gotta get to the gym.”
I nodded back, saying, “I gotta get home.”
He stood and I took a sip of coffee. I thought he’d go to the sink but he came to me. I tipped my head back to look at him just as his hand cupped the back of my head and his face got close.
“This,” he whispered, “this right here is why Cabe Delgado finally woke the fuck up.”
My heart seized but I wheezed, “Leo.”
“No more to be said, darlin’, think about that,” he declared, pulled my head forward an inch, kissed my hair and then let me go and walked his mug to the sink.
God, I loved Leo. He was the shit.
I looked out the window. The snow was long gone. February was leaking into March. In Denver this meant anything goes weather-wise. Blizzards, lying out in the sun in your bikini or both within an hour.
My phone hadn’t rung and Hawk hadn’t attempted to penetrate the Antoine/Freeman fortress. Even if he didn’t get my check and note yet, he went back to his lair to find I wasn’t there.
He was no call and no show.
This said it all and I told myself I was relieved but I wasn’t.
* * * * *
As I drove up to my house I noted that the good news was, Dad and Meredith’s cars weren’t there.
Dad called the night before to say that he and Meredith were going to spend the day at their house cleaning and sorting through stuff. I told him I wanted to get a few hours of work done to stay on target and then I’d come and help.
The bad news was, there was a Harley in my drive and on that Harley sat Tack.
Shit.
I pulled up to the curb so I wouldn’t block him in and he threw his leg off his bike. He started to the front door so I headed there.
“Hey peaches,” he greeted when I got close.
I had not bothered with makeup or hair. I’d taken a shower and put on another pair of yoga pants, a camisole and a zip up hoodie. I hoped I looked like hell but the way he was watching my hips move as I walked I was guessing I didn’t. Or at least my hips didn’t.
“Hey,” I replied.
His eyes lifted from my hips to mine. “Got a minute?”
“Depends,” I answered. “Are you here to tell me Ginger owes you three million dollars now?”
“Nope.”
“Are you here about Ginger at all?”
“Nope.”
“Are you here to freak me out in any other way?”
“Nope.”
“This would include asking me for a date,” I warned.
“Babe, don’t date,” he replied.
This was a surprise so I tipped my head to the side. “You don’t?”
“Do tequila shots followed by five hours of sex count as a date?” he asked.
“Um… no,” I answered.
“Then I don’t date.”
I smiled at him.
Then, stupidly, I asked, “You can have sex for five hours?”
He smiled at me.
Yikes.
Moving on.
“Okay, you can have a minute.”
“Obliged,” he muttered.
I opened the door and the alarm started beeping. Then I panicked because I forgot the code. Then I deep breathed and remembered the code. Then I punched it in and the beeping stopped.
Shoo.
I turned to see Tack followed me in and closed the door.
“See you domesticated,” he noted, glancing around.
“No, my stepmom has been in residence due to fire damage to her living room. She domesticated.”
His eyes came to me. “She in residence now?”
“She’s at her house cleaning up fire damage.”
“That sucked, babe,” he said softly.
“Tell me about it,” I agreed and walked into my house, dumping my bag and purse on my couch and turning to find he followed me and he did it close.
I tipped my head back to look at him.
“I don’t have any tequila,” I remarked and he threw his head back and laughed. His laugh was just as gravely and rumbly as his voice and I had to admit, I liked it.
Shit.
Time to lay ground rules.
“You should know, yesterday, I made a new life decision. I’ve sworn off men.”
His brows went up. “You have?”
“Yep.”
“Hawk know this?”
“I haven’t shared directly but I sent a message.”
His eyes grew intense. “Why?” he asked.
“It’s a long story and I don’t mean to be rude or anything but I have to get some work done. Then I have to gather up all my little black dresses and high-heeled shoes and take them to Goodwill. Then I have to go help clean up fire damage. Then I have to come home and make cookie dough. So maybe we can have your talk.”
He ignored my suggestion. “Sounds like you got a full day.”
“I have a full life.”
“Seems to me your fixin’ to punch some holes into that, no Hawk, no high-heeled shoes.”
“I’ve decided to take up hiking.”
He grinned.
“And ferret rescue,” I added.
His grin turned to a smile.
“Um… you wanted to talk?” I prompted.
“Yeah –” he started but didn’t continue because right then, the room exploded.
That’s right, exploded.
One second we were standing there bantering and the next the windows blew inward, glass shattering, plaster burst from the walls everywhere and then, of course, there was the loud noise of multiple automatic weapons all around.
I stupidly froze but luckily Tack didn’t. He picked me up at the waist, bent low but somehow managed to carry me through the living room to the kitchen where he put me on my feet and threw the door closed.
“What’s happening?” I shouted forgetting to pause and, say, check for bleeding gunshot wounds on him or me.
“Fuck,” he muttered, yanked his phone out of his jeans and flipped it open all the while crowding me across the kitchen until I hit the wall at the back at the same time the noise came into my living room.
I put my hands on him as he pressed in, shielding me with his body. “Tack!”
The noise stopped.
He had his phone to his ear and he had obviously engaged. “Drive-by, Gwen’s house. Sounds like three, four weapons. I’m cut off from my bike and Gwen’s car. I need immediate recon and I need to know why the fuck they targeted her house for a drive-by.” He paused. “Right.” Then he flipped his phone shut.
I was staring up at him, my throat feeling clogged, adrenalin surging through my system, every centimeter of skin on my body tingling, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar.
“Tack,” I whispered.
He looked down at me. “Stay here, hang tight. I’ll be back.”
He’d be back?
What did he mean, he’d be back?
Then he was gone.
Oh God. Shit. What did I do? Someone shot up my living room!
My purse was in the living room. My phone was in my purse. Shit.
Why hadn’t I put a phone in the kitchen? Why? Why, why, why? First thing whatever morning it would be when it was safe again to be in my fucking house I was putting a phone in every room.
The kitchen door opened and Tack was there, his arm extended to me. “Gwen.”
I was still pressed against the back wall and my panicked eyes went to him.
“What?” I snapped.
“Come here,” he said.
Was he crazy? Here was the living room! And ten seconds ago that room exploded!
“What?” I snapped again.
“Now!” he clipped back and I moved. Rushing to him, he grabbed my hand, dragged me through the nightmare that was my living room, out the front door and straight to his bike. He threw a leg over then I climbed up behind him, wrapping my arms around him and holding on tight. The engine roared, he backed it out, turning into the street and then we shot away.
* * * * *
Tack drove behind Ride where the garages were. I’d never been there but saw that also back there was a rectangular, one-story building. He rode right up to the door and stopped. I hopped off, he followed, grabbed my hand and a biker had the door held open for us as Tack took us into the building. It looked like a bar and bikers were all hanging around though they were hanging around alert and their eyes all came to Tack and me.
“Callouts, brothers,” Tack growled but that was all he said, he kept dragging me through the bar and around it to a back hall as men moved toward the front door.
Tack pulled me down the hall. It was filled with doors and he took me to the last one. He pushed it open and pulled me in. It was a bedroom and it needed to be cleaned, badly.
A biker followed us in and Tack looked at him and then he looked at me.
“You done with Hawk?” he asked what I thought was insanely.
“What?” I asked back.
“Babe, gotta know, you done with Hawk?”
“Um… yes,” I answered.
He stared at me and then asked, “You sure about that?”
“Yes! What are you –?”
I didn’t finish my question. The minute he got my answer he turned to the biker.
“Hawk shows, any of his boys, you aim to maim and you get her outta here. Yeah?”
Oh my God!
“Tack!” I shouted and he swung to me.
Then both his hands came to either side of my head and he pulled me up to his face.
“You may be done with Hawk but Hawk doesn’t finish with a woman until he finishes with that woman. You just bought yourself a situation, I don’t know why but I’m gonna know. And since I was there and nearly got filled with bullets right alongside you, peaches, now this is our situation. Do you get me?”
I was really, really afraid I did and by getting him that meant, for me, I’d jumped out of the frying pan smack into the freaking fire.
“Tack,” was all I could say.
“You get me,” he muttered, let me go and walked out of the room, slamming the door and I heard it lock.
I stared at the door.
Oh boy.
