But again my mouth answered for me, “Yes.”

His arm gave me a squeeze and he muttered, “Good.”

He fell silent and I focused on getting my heart rate normal even as I worried about the fact that he kept asking me that question, and getting his answer, and seeming content with that but not returning the sentiment.

Because I was worried about it, I couldn’t get my heart rate normal and my mouth formed more words.

“Do you… uh…” I got out before my brain shut my mouth down.

His arm squeezed again, differently this time, curling in and my head lifted up to find his had turned and he was looking down at me and, witnessing the look on his face, I found my heart rate accelerating startlingly.

“Never doubt it, Ace,” he declared on a growl.

“Okay,” I whispered then asked, “Why do you keep asking me?”

“‘Cause I like hearin’ you say yes.”

I lifted my hand and placed it on his bearded jaw as his head tipped down and he kissed me. It wasn’t hard and demanding, it was soft, sweet, wet and deliciously long.

After Tate and I made out on the deck, I supervised Jonas’s hamburger making at the same time making my pasta salad and we did this while Tate showered. Then Tate grilled. Then we ate out on the back patio while Jonas and I chattered and Tate infrequently interjected since Jonas and I chattered so much. We had cake after hamburgers. Then Jonas and I did dishes while Tate called Krys to make sure everything was okay. Then we camped out in the living room and watched comedies.

“No blood, no gore, Bub,” Tate commanded when Jonas was picking our viewing fodder.

Tate was laid full out on the couch, his head on the headrest and I was tucked between him and the back of the couch, my head on his chest, his hand playing with my hair. We were on film number two and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Therefore, I sleepily announced I was going to bed, pulled up Tate’s body, kissed his lips, climbed over him and off the couch and went to Jonas where I touched his hair and then I went to bed.

The first time Sunny’s words woke me up, Tate wasn’t there. The second time, his big body was curled into mine. The third through fifth times, I was snuggled into his back.

Which brought me to now, very awake in the dead of night and facing a nightshift the next day. I’d survive it, I had before, but it wouldn’t be fun.

I rolled to my back and when I did, Tate rolled into me.

His hand slid along my belly as his face buried itself in the hair at the side of my head.

“You’re havin’ a rough night.” His voice was scratchy with sleep.

“I’m okay.”

His arm gave me a squeeze.

“Had to send you in there, babe.”

He meant to talk to Sunny.

“I know,” I whispered.

He was silent a moment then he said, “Knew it’d do this to you but had to send you in there.”

“I know, Tate.”

“I did it knowin’ she’d give it to you and it’d mark you.”

“Tate –”

“Also did it knowin’ I’d be here when you dealt with it.”

I rolled into him, wrapped my arm around him and he pulled me close.

“I know,” I repeated then whispered, “It’s okay, Tate.”

He felt guilt, I knew he did. He didn’t like me losing sleep and he didn’t like knowing he did something to exacerbate that.

But he had to do it, and so did I, we both knew it but these were the consequences. He was right, he was here to help me deal with it and I was right too, I had him with me so it would be okay.

“Why didn’t you have kids?” he asked and I blinked at his change of subject before I realized he changed it to take my mind off Sunny.

“Unconscious self-preservation,” I used his words and he chuckled, his hand sliding up my back and into my hair where his fingers started to play with it.

“Knew, deep down, he was a dick,” he guessed.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Didn’t want to bring a kid into that,” he went on.

I sighed then said, “Yeah, but I wanted kids, so did Brad. I put it off, made excuses and he didn’t push it. Then I felt him pull away, he didn’t talk about it anymore and I buried it.”

“Regret it?”

“Not having kids with Brad?”

Tate amended my statement. “Not havin’ kids.”

I thought about it and thinking about it made my stomach hurt.

And that hurt sounded in my word when I said, “Yeah.”

Tate’s hand cupped the back of my head and he tucked my face in his throat while he said, “Baby.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered into his throat.

“Right,” he replied and I knew he didn’t believe me. Then again, he was right not to believe me since I was lying.

I changed the subject. “Tell me about your Dad.”

“Show you,” he offered and I tipped my head back to look at him even though I couldn’t see him in the dark.

“Show me?”

I heard his head move on the pillow as he looked down at me.

“Dad was big on video cameras, huge. Minute they were on the market, he bought one. The thing was mammoth, had to put it on his shoulder. It cost a f**kin’ fortune, but he got one. Traded up every time a new camera came out. He even did edits. Put shit to music. Was always f**kin’ around with it. My games. Parties. Holidays. Barbeques. When Wood and I went out on our bikes. Pop would get hold of the camera, Stella, Neet, Wood, me and we got footage of him. So, I’ll show you.”

“He was a good guy,” I stated.

“The best,” he replied.

“Proud of you.”

I felt his body go solid for a moment before he relaxed.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“He still would be,” I told him.

His body went solid again.

“Babe –”

“He would, Tate. You’re a good man, a good dad.”

He didn’t respond and he kept quiet for so long, I let it go.

Then he relaxed against me and the feel of his hard, big body, his warmth, his scent hit me as his hand lazily travelled the skin of my back.

So my hand lazily travelled the skin of his side, his hip, then between us where my fingers wrapped around his c**k and started stroking.