“Jesus,” his eyes came to mine and then scanned my hair, “what’d you do to yourself, baby?”

“Tate,” I repeated but said no more because his head bent and he kissed me.

His lips and tongue worked wonders against my mind, as in clearing it of all thoughts of him being a cheater and not calling for a month and me being with Wood and filling it with only thoughts of kissing him back as hard as I could. The beard helped, I’d never been kissed by a man with a beard – it was scratchy but in a very sexy way.

When his lips broke from mine, they didn’t actually break, they just stopped kissing me but stayed where they were so our breath mixed.

“Sweet as I remembered,” he muttered against my lips.

“Tate,” I whispered.

His hand left my side and came to the side of my neck and his head lifted two inches.

“I couldn’t find him, babe,” he said as his thumb trailed my jaw.

“Sorry?”

“That f**ker who killed Tonia. Been everywhere. Asshole left nothin’. He’s a ghost.”

“Oh no,” I breathed.

“Cops, Feds, everyone’s f**kin’ baffled. Includin’ me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Now I gotta tell her folks that I got nothin’,” he went on.

“Tate.”

“That’s gonna suck,” he finished.

I pulled in breath and in pulling it in, life as I’d come to know it re-established its place in my brain.

“Tate –” I began and his thumb slid across my lips.

“Sucks, but f**k Laurie, it’s good to be home,” he whispered, his thumb disappeared and his head started to come down.

“Tate!” I cried and pulled back against the wall.

His head went up.

“What?” he asked.

“Can you please step back?” I requested.

His eyes scanned my face in the dim light.

Then he answered, “No.”

“We need to talk,” I stated. During his kiss my hands had slid around his neck. Now they were pressing lightly against his shoulders.

“All right,” he replied.

“Later. I’m working. Tomorrow, we’ll, um… go to the um –”

He cut me off. “You’re right here,” his hand beside my breast slid around my back, “I’m right here,” his hand at my neck slid up into my hair, “talk.”

“I need you to step back,” I said to him.

“And I been gone a long time, Ace, I need you where you are.”

My head tilted to the side. “You mean you didn’t swing by Neeta’s any time this past month?”

It was more than a little scary feeling his body go rock solid against mine.

“What the f**k?” he asked in an even scarier voice.

“You might want to let me go,” I suggested.

“And I might not,” he shot back.

“I know about Neeta,” I told him, trying not to make it sound like an accusation but pretty certain it did.

“Yeah? What do you know?”

“I know enough that that’s the last kiss you’ll get from me.”

“Maybe you’ll explain,” he bit off, his voice even scarier.

“Okay, I’ll explain this.” I pressed on his shoulders but nothing came of it so I gave up. “My husband left me for my best friend and he’d been f**king her for five years.”

“I already knew that, Ace.”

“So let’s just say that I’m not fired up to get involved with a man who doesn’t care that he’s carrying on a long term affair with a married woman.”

He let me go then, faster than I’d ever seen anyone move. So fast I wasn’t ready for it and both my hands had to slam back in the wall to hold myself upright so I wouldn’t tumble over.

He’d taken a step back but other than that he didn’t move and he didn’t speak.

So I did. “I see I’ve made my point.”

“And I see we’re back at square f**kin’ one,” he returned.

“What?”

He leaned in, his face all I could see and I realized the aggressive way he did it that I’d vastly misjudged the situation and the atmosphere. I’d seen him very angry, scary angry.

Now, I realized he was enraged.

“Did you think,” he growled, “for one f**kin’ second, Ace, to maybe ask me about Neeta?”

But two could be enraged.

Because he showed me the promise of something special that night on his bike and through his kiss.

Then he walked away and didn’t even f**king call!

“Wood explained things pretty clearly,” I replied acidly.

“Wood,” he whispered.

“Wood,” I repeated.

“He f**k you yet?” Tate asked coarsely and I tried to step back forgetting I was already against the wall.

“That’s none of your business!” I snapped.

“He hasn’t f**ked you but he will,” he stated. “Too bad for you there’s no one helpful around like Wood to tell you a few things about Wood.”

“Yes? Like what things?”

“Too bad, babe, with this scene, you lost out. You’ll have to find out on your own.” And with that he turned on his boot, walked away and I watched him, realizing I was breathing heavily until I stopped breathing because he stopped and turned back to me. “So all that’s for Wood?” he asked bizarrely.

“All what?” I asked back.

His hand did an annoyed flick that encompassed the whole of me.

“No,” I snapped.

“You looked better before, Ace. Now you just look like all the rest.”

And with that highly successful parting line, he disappeared down the hall.

Chapter Eight

Martinis and Manicures

It was the day after Tate came home and the day after I drove to Wood’s after work, pulled off my clothes, pulled on one of his t-shirts, crawled into his bed waking him just enough for him to roll me into his arms before he fell back asleep (but I didn’t).

In Wood’s arms, I didn’t toss and turn because I didn’t want to wake him but I couldn’t get that scene with Tate out of my mind.

Or his kiss.

Or him saying, But f**k Laurie, it’s good to be home.