Wood was wrong. Tate, Wood, Bubba, Jim-Billy, Dalton, they took that kind of hit to their manhood, they wouldn’t come back.

Brad was another story. Brad got something in his head, even Twyla delivering a hit to his manhood wouldn’t get it out.

Which meant I had the unpredictable Neeta and the stupid, stubborn, idiot Brad to worry about. Not to mention a night with me in Tate’s bed and Wood on Tate’s couch.

I was beginning to wish I was back in Horizon Summit, locked behind the gates.

Though I was wishing for the time when Brad was gone and I was there alone. I could have made it. I made good money. I’d have to fire Griselle, the cleaner and Juan-Carlos, the gardener and maybe forego my monthly pedicure and bi-monthly manicures but I could have eeked by.

“Yeah?” Wood asked. “Okay, I’ll hang until you get here.”

I stared at Wood and wondered if my luck was changing and realized it was when his eyes came to me and he said into the phone, “Yeah, she’s awake,” and then held it to me, “wants to talk to you, baby.”

I walked to him, took the phone and put it to my ear.

“Hi,” I said.

“You okay?” Tate asked and I heard in his tone that he wasn’t looking for something to throw but had found the whole story amusing.

“Yes,” I said shortly, not finding anything amusing.

“Goin’ to bed?”

“Yes.”

“Wearin’ my tee?”

“I haven’t changed yet.”

“Right, then change of plans. I’m in Denver. I’ll be home in less than two hours. Wear nothin’ to bed.”

I blinked at Wood’s feet on the couch.

Then I turned with a jerk and walked toward the kitchen.

“Tate –”

“Naked, babe.”

“Tate, I can’t –”

He cut me off. “Buck.”

I stopped in the kitchen.

“Sorry?”

“Buck naked.”

“Wood’s here,” I whispered.

“He’ll be gone in two hours and I’ll be there.”

“I just got done working the night shift,” I reminded him.

“And I just got done apprehending a man out on bail on a murder charge and drivin’ over six hundred miles.”

“So you’ll be tired and I’ll be tired –”

“You’re naked, I’ll find a way to revive you.”

“Captain –” I whispered.

“You’re not naked, I’ll still find a way to revive you.”

“Tate, it’s three thirty in the morning, you’ve had a long day. You shouldn’t even make that drive.”

“Baby, you’re na**d in my bed, no way I’m not.”

“Tate,” I said to dead air, he was gone.

I took the phone from my ear and stared at it. It slid from my fingers, my head came up and I watched Wood flip it closed.

“Go to bed, Laurie,” he said quietly, his eyes soft on me.

I swallowed. He was really handsome, almost as beautiful as Tate but in a different way. There was an edge to both men but I got the sense that Tate’s was sharper and closer to the surface. Wood’s was just a sharp but it ran deeper.

“Okay,” I replied then I pulled in breath. “You… today… what you did, looking out for me.” I paused. “It was really kind, Wood,” I finished on a whisper.

His body moved slightly toward me but he locked it down and I saw his jaw tense.

Then he repeated, “Go to bed, baby.”

I nodded, thinking exiting his presence immediately was probably a good idea. I walked by him and headed down the hall.

“Lauren,” he called and I stopped and turned back to him. He was leaning into a fist on the kitchen counter and his eyes were on me. “Once we were brothers,” he told me and I held my breath. “I’d do anything for him.”

I didn’t know what this meant and I stayed frozen, staring at him, waiting for him to go on.

When he didn’t, I chanced my guess on a whisper. “You miss him.”

Wood held my eyes and didn’t speak. Then he turned away, walked across the kitchen and hit the light switch. The kitchen went dark but I watched Wood in the light coming from the living room walk back to the couch. He dropped down to lounge there, his eyes on the TV, his face blank.

I had known whatever had happened, the history and bad blood between Tate and Wood was big.

Now I knew it wasn’t big. Whatever it was was colossal.

I wanted to go to him, stretch out beside him, hold him close in my arms and watch television, not in a loverly way, in a way I sensed he needed.

But that would be bad.

So I turned and walked to Tate’s room.

Chapter Seventeen

What Do You See?

My body jolted awake when I heard the loud bang on the window, a sound like the strong, angry crack of knuckles.

“Bitch! Get out here!”

After the shrieking female’s words, the bang came again and I sat up in Tate’s bed, holding the covers to my na**d chest, looking toward the window and staring in shock at a ghostly face framed with a mass of dark hair staring into the window.

She lifted a fist and banged again, so hard it was a wonder her hand didn’t go through the glass. My body jumped with the sound.

“I said, get the f**k out here!” she screeched.

The outside light went on and she was illuminated.

I’d never seen her up close and her face was twisted with fury, making her not at all attractive. Even so, I knew when it untwisted, she’d be a knockout.

“Yeah,” she shouted, “I see you, bitch!”

It dawned on me Tate needed curtains. Badly.

“Jesus Christ, Neeta, what the f**k?” I heard Wood’s angry clip.

Neeta’s head twisted to the side, it jolted with surprise and then she glared.

Then she screamed, “Traitor!”

“Get away from Laurie’s goddamned window,” Wood ordered.

“Fuck you!” Neeta shouted back.

I sat there immobile, shocked at what was happening and unable to move considering she could see me and, as Tate had demanded, I was buck na**d between his new, high thread count sheets.

“What’s the matter with you?” Wood asked loudly, with anger and frustration clear in his tone. “Honest to God, Neeta, I wanna know.”