Page 53 of Safe With Me
“I’ve been staying home.” My cheeks heated once more. “Sara insists tonight.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “She and Tick are cousins. I can see her being stubborn like him.”
“She’s the worst.” Affection softened my voice. Sara made me nuts, but I loved her. “She nags until I give in.”
“He’s just so stubborn he’s stupid.”
“He’s not.” I shrugged at his surprised expression. “He can’t do his job if he’s stupid.”
“He’s stubbornly stupid in his personal life.” Scott shook his head. “You’re hard-headed, too.”
“Excuse me?” An unwilling smile tugged at my lips. Not like Daddy hadn’t called me hard-headed over the years. Yes, I could be. I dug in and wouldn’t let go when something was important. Melancholy shivered over me. I missed being that girl. “The word is determined.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re getting out tonight.” He waved toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
Only two minutes to five, but I could hardly argue with the guy who signed my paycheck. I shut down the computer, collected my jacket and slipped on my wristlet. He walked me out, and once I was in my car, his sensible Toyota sedan followed my SUV all the way to the Millhouse.
Like Sara said, it was early and the parking lot was relatively deserted. Scott parked next to me and ambled up the steps to the front door at my side. I shot a sideways glance at hisimpassive expression. Of course, I knew what he was doing, but neither of us would call out his act of chivalry, making sure I didn’t walk into a public space in Coney alone. And I didn’t complain, the memory of the Hickory House debacle fresh and still traumatizing.
“Hannah!” Sara swept in to hug me, and with an ironic lift of a brow, Scott strolled to the bar. She tugged me toward the back doors. “Trace got us a table. Tate is on his way.”
I nodded, not sure I wanted to see him. As always, my complicated feelings for him swirled through me. I’d always wanted him, and now I could have him. Over the past few weeks, he’d shown me the caring part of him I’d glimpsed with Kaydee when we used to babysit together. He cared for me.
And he wanted more. I saw it in his eyes every time I took him inside me.
All I could do, though, was throw up walls between us – walls that didn’t make sense because I wanted him to want more with me. How did I even begin to explain what I didn’t get myself?
My phone pinged with a text from Tate that he was pulling in, and I found myself watching the door, watching for his entrance without wanting to. A little thrill of anticipation as the door swung open disappeared under a shock of revulsion as Elizabeth swanned through, complete with Nicole and the rest of their little entourage. Here, though, the patrons mostly ignored her, but I caught a couple of women – people we went to school with and knew from around town – looking between us eagerly, waiting for the gossip.
My whole body turned cold, a wash of ice down my spine. Sara grabbed my hand, fingers warm around mine. “We are right here.”
Elizabeth paused on the steps with a dramatic glance around for a table, her trilling little giggle carrying to my ears. Grief speared through me.
I didn’t recognize my sister in this woman at all.
It was like looking at Mama when she was on a tear.
Tate stepped onto the deck from inside, his jaw freshly shaved and hair damp from a shower. A thin black sweater and jeans highlighted the breadth of his chest and his powerful thighs. Despite the flush of fear heating my nape, my heart kicked at the sight of him, and desire pooled low in my belly, my body responding to the mere thought of his.
“Tate!” Elizabeth’s excited voice spiked my apprehension. “Baby, you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
She launched herself at him, pressing her mouth to his.
He jerked away. “Get the fuck off me.”
Elizabeth stumbled back. “What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Stay away from me.” He dashed a hand over his mouth in a rough gesture of disgust and stalked to our table, his infuriated gaze on me.
I darted a look at my sister to find her attention on me as well, a malicious glint in her eyes. My stomach twisted into a cold lump.
She clomped down the steps, authoritative steps in a pair of those handmade Oklahoma boots from the store. She’d paired them with jeans and one of the cashmere sweaters I’d curated, along with a silk scarf I’d planned to highlight over November. The outfit was as perfect as her hair and makeup.
I’d washed my hair that morning and put it up in a messy bun still damp. Maybe I’d swiped on some mascara. Definitelynot how I’d put myself together not so long ago. It all seemed like too much effort right now.
Elizabeth swept our way. Maybe my flash of fear showed in my eyes because Tate planted himself between us, palm out in astop.
“Get gone, Elizabeth.” His granite-hard voice brooked no argument. “Not gonna tell you again.”
