Colorado 02 Sweet Dreams (19 page)

I didn’t know where these words were coming from, I just knew it was someplace buried deep, someplace that had been longing to see the light of day, someplace that had finally broken through when that bullet tore through me.

“Ree –”

“You lied to me and all my friends lied to me for five years. You can’t do that and have a soul.”

“Ree –”

“Do you know what happened to me today?” I asked and didn’t wait for an answer, I just gave it to him. “I got a phone call from my sister that tore my world apart and I didn’t have to lift a finger. Betty got me dressed and packed my bag and even got my laundry from the laundry room. Ned put me and my bag in the truck. Tate got the tickets and got me on a plane and dropped everything to come with me. These people have things to do, they have
lives
. At work Krys and Wendy will cover for me even though Tate and I are gone just because that’s what you do when you’re a good person. That’s what you do when you have a soul. That’s where I am now, that’s where I live, that’s my life. Do you think, for one second, I’d leave something that beautiful and come back to
you?
”

He didn’t answer so I kept going.

“Even now, you’re not thinking about me. My father’s fighting for his life somewhere in this hospital and my family is scared out of their minds and you don’t care. You don’t give a
fuck
. All you care about is
you
and what
you
want. I’m standing by a man who dropped everything, and he’s been on the trail of a
murderer
for a
month,
and he did it just to get me to my family. Have you ever done anything like that in your
life?
”

“You love me, Ree, you told me you did even after I explained about Hayley,” Brad reminded me. “You said we’d find our way back, make it work.”

“I did,” I agreed, “because I was scared and I was blind. Blinded by hope. I’d waited for something special and convinced myself you were that. Then you proved you weren’t and taught me the valuable lesson that special isn’t out there. Special doesn’t
exist
. So the best you can do is find real. I found real, Brad, and I like it.” I let Tate go, straightened and moved to his side. “I guess I should thank you for being here so I can thank you to your face for teaching me that lesson. I wasted a lot of my life hoping for something special. Now I’ve realized I’m good with what I’ve got.”

I watched Brad open his mouth to speak but I didn’t get a chance to hear what he had to say. I didn’t get that chance because Tate tagged me with an arm hooked around my neck, he yanked me into him so I collided with his body and his head came down, his mouth on mine, and he kissed me hard and deep, with tongues.

Right in front of my Mom!

This, at the time, didn’t register on me because it was Tate and he was good with his mouth therefore that was the only thing that registered.

Then he lifted his head half an inch and stated, “You’re gonna find special, Ace.”

I shook my head in the minimal space allowed partially in a negative, mostly to recover from his kiss.

“Special doesn’t exist, Tate,” I told him. “And I’m okay with that.”

His lips came back to mine and when he spoke, he did it gently. “It will for you, baby.”

“I like him,” Mom declared loudly.

I watched Tate’s eyes smile.

“Maybe we shouldn’t neck in front of my Mom while my Dad’s in ICU,” I suggested and then watched the smile in Tate’s eyes deepen.

“Don’t mind us,” Mack called. “They probably don’t get a lot of foreplay in hospital waiting rooms. You’re breakin’ the monotony of tears and tantrums.”

“Mack!” Carrie hissed. “Tate just kissed her, that’s hardly foreplay.”

“You weren’t watchin’ close enough, honey. That was
definitely
foreplay.”

By this time Tate’s head had gone up about three inches so I could see his mouth struggling against his smile, or, perhaps, out and out laughter.

“My family is a little crazy,” I whispered.

“I get that,” Tate replied.

“Perhaps I should go,” Brad noted and Tate didn’t release me but his head turned toward Brad.

“You think?” he asked.

I started giggling and seeing as my hands were clutching Tate’s t-shirt at his waist, I just slid them along so they were loosely wrapped around his back and I could rest my weight into his body.

But Brad wasn’t done. He got close and I turned my head to look at him too.

“I get this,” he said, “this guy.” He jerked his head at Tate. “Wild oats. But I know you Ree. You’ll want your manicures and martinis. You’ll be back.”

I looked at Tate and noted, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Can we buy some martini glasses for the bar?”

“No,” Tate replied.

“All right,” I muttered.

“Can we go to the hotel?” Mom asked. “I need to rest, I want to be back to check on your father first thing in the morning.”

“You girls’ll have to scrunch in the back. Tate and my legs are too long,” Mack declared.

“It’s your car, hon,” Mom said and she sounded tired.

“Mom sounds tired,” I whispered to Tate and he let my neck go but didn’t step out of my space.

“Be with her,” he whispered back.

“Okay,” I agreed then called, “Captain?”

“Yeah, Ace.”

“Thanks.”

His hand lifted and he trailed the backs of his fingers along my jaw.

My mind automatically committed the feel of his touch to memory right along with the look on his face when he did it.

Then I went to my Mom.

* * * * *

“I’m sorry about this,” I said to Tate as we entered the hotel room my Mom insisted on getting us.

Us!

Our farm was only a thirty minute drive away from Indianapolis and Carrie and Mack lived in the city but they lived on the other side and Mom didn’t want to drive back and forth so we’d all checked in and would be in (at least Mom and me) until she felt Dad was okay to leave for awhile.

After having a very late dinner, we’d gone to the hotel and Mom had insisted that she pay for Tate and my room.

Tate tried to protest, Mom was losing so she looked at me, pulled out the big guns, and said, “It’s what your father would do if he was here.”

Tate’s eyes sliced to me, his jaw clenched then he sighed and then I let Mom get
us
a room.

Now we were stuck together in a room with a king-sized bed.

Tate dumped our luggage on the built-in luggage rack and I looked around the room that was in a Marriott which was about as far away from Ned and Betty’s below average (but now it was home) room as you could get.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tate muttered.

“I’ll run down and get another room, try to get it on the same floor or something so they won’t know and I’ll sleep there.”

“It’s all good, Ace,” Tate said. He’d sat in a chair and was pulling off his boots.

“There’s only one bed,” I informed him of a fact he knew.

“It’s a big bed,” he replied.

“Tate –” I started and his head came up.

“Babe, it’s all good. Quit yappin’.”

“Okay,” I whispered and then just stood there not knowing what to do.

Tate knew what to do. He went to the bed, yanked the pillows out from under the coverlet and stacked them on one side. Then he emptied his pockets, lay on the covers, back to the pillows, grabbed the remote and switched on the TV.

I stepped further into the room.

“That was nice of you,” I said to him.

“What?” he asked the TV.

“To pretend you were my boyfriend in front of Brad,” I replied.

“Your ex is an asshole, babe.” He was still talking to the TV.

He was right about that.

So I said, “It was also nice for you to pretend in front of my family at dinner.”

“Your family’s the shit, Ace.” He was still watching TV.

He was right about that too.

“Mm,” I mumbled and looked at the TV.

It didn’t take long for the images on the screen mesmerize me. This was because I was drained, emotionally and physically. Travelling wore me out. Brad wore me out. And I was terrified the last time I’d communicate with my Dad was through an e-mail.

“Babe,” Tate called.

“Mm?” I asked, eyes glued to the screen.

“Laurie, take your shoes off and lie down.”

I didn’t move.

“Lauren,” Tate called.

I stared at the screen.

“Fuck me,” Tate muttered, I heard a zip then my body was moving.

My heard jerked and I looked up at Tate as he pushed me into the bathroom.

“What?”

“Change and come to bed before you collapse on your feet,” he ordered and shoved some material in my hand.

I looked at the material. “This isn’t mine.”

“It’s mine. Not gonna waste time sortin’ through your shit.”

“But –”

“Put it on, Ace.”

“But –”

He put a hand to my belly, shoved me fully into the bathroom, flipped on the light switch and demanded, “Put it on.” Then he closed the door.

Without any fight left in me (at all) I put it on then I shuffled out wearing his huge, navy blue t-shirt. I collapsed on the covers on the bed and I did this on a diagonal.

Tate was right, the bed was huge. I was diagonal, he was in the bed and we weren’t close to touching.

That was until his hands came to my armpits and he hauled me across the bed until my head was on his belly.

I started to lift up. “Tate –”

He pushed me back down. “Relax, watch TV.”

“But Tate, this is –”

He cut me off. “I’m usin’ all the pillows.”

I twisted my head to look at him. “Tate!”

His fingers slid in my hair and sifted through. “Jesus, you’re wound up tight. Just fuckin’
relax
.”

I couldn’t
not
relax with his fingers sifting through my hair like that.

I sighed deeply, trying to sound annoyed. Then I twisted my head back and rested it on his stomach.

Tate kept sifting his fingers through my hair.

I rested my hand on his stomach just below my face, part of it tucked under my cheek.

I looked down the long length of his legs, passed his bare feet crossed at the ankles and Tate and I watched TV.

Tate kept sifting his fingers through my hair.

I fell asleep.

* * * * *

But
fuck
Laurie, it’s good to be home.

The words hit my brain, my eyes opened and I saw the room was dark.

There was a warm body pressed in behind me, its arm around me and it wasn’t Wood’s.

I was in a hotel room in Indianapolis with Tate.

I shut my eyes tight.

So much for the big bed. We were only using about a quarter of it.

I knew with the way I was awake that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. So, as carefully as I could, I slipped out from under Tate’s arm and out of the bed. I went to my bag, picked it up as silently as I could and took it to the bathroom. I didn’t turn on the light until the door was closed. Then I opened my bag, rummaged through it, found my stuff and belatedly washed the makeup off my face, moisturized then brushed my teeth. Then I shoved my bag under the sink, turned out the light and carefully made my way to the chair by the window.

If I curled up and eventually fell asleep there, I’d be okay and I wouldn’t wake Tate.

So I curled up and looked out at the lights from our window thankful Tate didn’t close the curtains and I tried to clear my mind and find tired.

“Ace?” Tate called.

Darn.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” I whispered.

“Come back to bed,” he ordered.

“No, Captain, I can’t sleep. I’m okay, this happens a lot. Just ignore me.”

“Come back to bed,” he repeated.

“Really, I’m…” I trailed off because I saw the covers get thrown back, then I saw his naked chest in the city lights coming in from the window and the sight put me into a deeper mesmerization than the TV had. So deep, I didn’t know what he was doing until I was in his arms and he was walking back to the bed. He dumped me there somewhat unceremoniously (as in he
dropped
me and I
bounced
)
and then he effectively shoved me deeper into the bed because I scooted away from his knee as he got in with me.

He was settling the covers over us when he repeated, “Like I said, come to bed.”

“You don’t want me here,” I advised.

He ignored my comment and asked, “What woke you up?”

“Sorry?”

“Why do you wake up?”

“Stuff drifts through my brain, wakes me up.”

“What?”

“Lots of stuff.”

“What was it tonight?”

Good God, I couldn’t tell him that.

“Just… I want Dad to be okay. I was pretty incommunicado while I was roaming, sorting through my head, needing to be alone and find what I was looking for. I knew Mom and him and Caroline were worried.
Really
worried. I’d reconnected lately but the last time I talked to Dad was via e-mail,” I lied. “I want to hear his voice.” This was not a lie

He honed into exactly what most concerned me.

“You aren’t responsible for your father’s heart attack, babe.”

“And
you
aren’t responsible for Tonia’s death, babe.”

That shut him up.

We were face to face but his face was shadowed, only his shoulder and arm that was on top of the covers were visible in the lights coming from windows.

“Go back to sleep, Tate, I’ll be okay,” I whispered.

He ignored me again. “What keeps you up?”

“What keeps me up?”

“Yeah, if shit sifts through your brain waking you up, what
keeps
you up?”

“It keeps sifting through my brain.”

“You can’t shut it down?”

“No.”

He fell silent.

“Tate,” I said, “I’ve tried everything. Sleep aids. Counting sheep. Relaxation techniques. Nothing works but I’m used to it.”

“The mind’s a powerful thing.”

“Yes,” I said softly.

“Your Dad’s gonna be okay, Ace.”

“I hope so,” I whispered.

We both fell silent and this lasted awhile.