His face softened in a way I’d never seen before but I liked a lot. Too much. Way too much to be conducive to healthy, functional employer/employee relations and he replied quietly, “Yeah, baby.”

“How long have you known my name?”

“Since the first shot of tequila I handed to you when you gave it to me.”

“Why did you pretend you didn’t know my name?”

“Because, Red, I’m gonna f**k with your head too.”

Oh boy.

“Tack –”

“But you’ll like the way I do it.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

“Tack –”

“Gotta go.”

“Tack –”

He interrupted me when his mouth hit mine for a hard, swift kiss that included his tongue touching my lips briefly in a way that made them tingle before he lifted his head.

My heart was beating wildly and my fingers were clutching the arms of my chair when his hand slid from my neck to my jaw, taking my hair with it and his thumb swept my cheek.

“Later, darlin’,” he whispered. Then he was gone and I blinked at the door when I heard the lock turn even though I no longer heard Naomi.

I closed my eyes tight for the second time that day and waited until my heart stopped beating hard and my lips stopped tingling before I opened them.

Then I whispered to the door, “Damn.”

Chapter Five

Fair Enough

It was Saturday night, twenty after six, and I was wondering what to have for dinner at the same time I was clicking through want ads on my laptop.

I’d just returned from yoga class with Lanie. I was still in my black roll top yoga pants and cornflower blue stretchy racerback yoga camisole with the deep gray racerback yoga bra under it. I was also in a mellow mood. Yoga did that to me. It made me feel energized but mellow and after the week I’d had, mellow was a good thing.

I’d only seen Tack once since his ex came to call, he kissed me and then disappeared. It was last night, Friday, when I heard the roar of bikes come into the forecourt of Ride. I was getting used to the roar of bikes but this wasn’t the roar I was used to. This wasn’t one or two bikes. This was a lot of them so I got out of my chair and looked out the window to see Tack leading six other bikes into Ride. Two of those bikes carried Dog and Brick, the two directly behind Tack. The rest of the guys I’d seen around but had not met. They parked beside the two bikes already outside the Compound, got off and entered the Compound. Ten minutes later, three more bikes roared in, two of these carrying the two men I’d seen Tack have the unhappy conversation with, they parked and into the Compound they went. None of them reappeared before I called it quits for the day and I was glad.

I didn’t need more of Tack screwing up my workdays. And I didn’t need thoughts of how cool Tack looked sitting on a Harley. So the minute the clock hit five, I closed up shop and got the hell out of there.

Now, I was perusing want ads on-line. I needed a new job. What I did not need was my body (and heart, I had to admit) to jump every time the door opened and I worried Tack was walking into the office to f**k with my head in his own, unique, scary biker dude way. And I certainly didn’t need to leap off the roller coaster that was my life to leap right back on a different one.

Lanie was all for this plan. Actually, Lanie was all for the plan where I walked into Ride on Monday whereupon I would instantly give notice. But I’d spent Wednesday night paying bills and examining my bank and investment accounts. I’d downsized my living operations when my paychecks quit coming but that didn’t mean the money quit going. My calculator and I deduced I could live frugally for another six months. I could live seriously frugally for seven, maybe pushing it to eight.

But that meant no yoga classes with Lanie and I liked my yoga classes with Lanie. That also meant no Sunday night self-facials where I used the expensive stuff that made my skin feel freaking great. That also meant no Thursday pig outs on takeaway. I could live but I couldn’t live like I liked to live and I’d worked hard to get to a life I liked to live and I didn’t want to let it go.

I bought my house ten years ago when it was a buyer’s market. My house was two blocks from Porter Hospital. It was small but had a big yard and sat amongst a bunch of other small houses with big yards or huge houses that had been built after the old house was scraped off or small houses that were now larger because their tops had been popped.

Because I bought my house ages ago, my mortgage was low. It was a one-story, two-bedroom adobe with a living room, dining area and huge-ass kitchen. I’d fixed it up exactly as I wanted it, even splurging on a fabulous kitchen including top of the line appliances and kickass countertops. There was a two car garage out back and a nice-sized shed. There was also a great deck. I had fantastic furniture in the house and on the deck, fabulous décor and a well-landscaped yard that looked good only because I spent a bunch of time in it.

This was the one downfall of my house and if I had to do it again, I would buy a house with zero yard. I wasn’t a fan of mowing my yard and had quit my job before I’d purchased a riding lawnmower. Even though I had a kickass power mower, it still took me hours to mow my huge yard. This was not my favorite activity. Part of the reason my yard was well-landscaped and I spent so much time in it was because I was incapable of not having my surroundings be the best they could be. It gave me a sense of peace and if I had to work at that peace, so be it.

Still, that didn’t mean I liked it.

I was about to get up, make myself a cup of tea and peruse my cupboards for dinner ideas when the doorbell rang.

I felt my brows draw together as I stared at my front door. No one came calling without warning unless it was some religious person wanting to help me find God (just as long as it was their God) or someone wanting to sell something which was both kind of the same thing.

Damn.

I took the laptop off my thighs, put it on the coffee table, pulled my ass out of my couch and wandered to the door. I opened the little, wooden baby door that had a wrought iron cross outside that gave me a view to my stoop and I stared at Tack.

What the hell?

“Hey, babe,” he greeted.

“What are you doing here?”

“Open the door.”

“What are you doing here, Tack?”

“Open the door, Red.”

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing here,” I returned.