Sweet Dreams Page 25

“I’ll make coffee,” she whispered after I was seated and then turned to the kettle.

Betty was silent while she made coffee and I got myself together. Then she brought two mugs to the bed, sat down beside me and handed me mine.

That’s when I asked, “Why would the cops come to Tate?”

“Well, he used to be one of ‘em,” she answered and I stared at her.

“Really?”

“Yeppo… and a good one.”

“Why isn’t he now?” I asked.

“Neeta,” she answered.

“Sorry?”

“Neeta.” She saw my face then patted my knee. “Long story and a sorry mess it was. I’ll tell you later. But now isn’t the time with Tate outside. Okay?”

I wanted to know then but she was right so I said, “Okay.”

“Anyway, it’s good they came to him,” she said. “Tate’ll find him.”

“But, how can the cops ask him to help if he’s a bartender?” I asked and she smiled.

“He isn’t a bartender, sweetie, he’s a bounty hunter.”

“What?” I breathed.

“Good one ‘a those too, I hear. When Bubba isn’t playin’ hooky and Krystal’s got a full staff, Tate gets called all over the country to find fugitives from the law.”

“Really?” I was still only talking in breaths.

“Yeah, Laurie. Tatum Jackson’s not the kind of man to spend his life behind a bar.”

My eyes moved to the door.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Drink your coffee,” Betty urged and I looked back at her and just sat there so she prompted, “Coffee, sweetie.”

“Right,” I whispered and I drank my coffee.

* * * * *

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door.

Betty ran to get it because I was sitting cross-legged on the bed taking a sip of coffee.

Tate nodded at Betty when he walked in but he came right to me, stopped, tossed a phone charger and a shiny box on the bed and looked down at me.

“Night swims are done, Ace,” he declared in a hard voice.

I stared up at him and whispered a shocked, “Sorry?”

He bent at the waist, put a fist in the bed on either side of my hips, got in my face and I was too stunned to move.

“No more swimmin’ unless its daylight and Ned or Betty are around,” he ordered.

“But, how do you –?”

“You get in your room, you put the chain on and you stay in it, got me?”

“But –”

“You don’t open the door unless you know for a fact who it is and that they’re alone,” Tate went on.

“I –”

“I programmed my numbers into your phone. You need to go somewhere and it’s night, you call me, I’ll come down and you’re on the back of my bike.”

I swallowed but the tears still filled my eyes.

“She’s bad,” I whispered.

“She’ll be lucky to survive,” he whispered back.

“Tate,” I kept whispering, calling him by his name for the first time ever.

I watched with some fascination as his eyes closed and something weird rushed into his features. It was weird because it appeared both warm and painful.

He opened them and said quietly, “I cut her loose last night.”

My hand moved to wrap my fingers around his forearm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I cut her loose,” he repeated.

“Tate, don’t,” I whispered.

“I wasn’t nice about it,” he went on.

“Don’t –”

“Last thing she heard from my mouth was me callin’ her a bitch.”

“Tate –”

“She was on shift –”

My fingers squeezed and I leaned closer, “Honey, don’t.”

He was silent and we stared into each other’s eyes for awhile.

Then he ordered, “No more nighttime swimmin’, babe.”

“Okay,” I replied softly.

He pushed away and walked to the door, saying to Betty, “She may need some aloe vera.”

“Right, Tate,” Betty replied to no one because he was out the door.

Betty turned to me and grinned in a way that, if I wasn’t strung out on a variety of emotions, I would have thought, especially considering the circumstances, was bizarrely, happily hopeful.

But all I could say or think was, “How did he know about me swimming?”

“Why he was a good cop, why he’s a good bounty hunter, Tate Jackson knows all,” Betty answered.

I didn’t think that was good news, not for me.

I just hoped it was equally bad news for the man who hurt Tonia.

Chapter Five

Exhausted You

The next day, it was just passed two in the afternoon and it was another slow day at Bubba’s when he came in.

I was on and Dalton was behind the bar.

My body ached from boot camp, all over, and I spent some time that morning trying to figure out if it was my leg muscles, arm muscles, ab muscles or butt muscles that hurt the most but I couldn’t decide since they all hurt equally bad.

When Jim-Billy came in, Dalton and Jim-Billy spent time discussing Tonia. Dalton looked slightly strung out, like he had no sleep, looking this way probably because he was freaked about Tonia. They talked about Tonia until they saw it was distressing me, Jim-Billy gave Dalton a look and they’d both shut up about it.

I ran out to get Dalton, Jim-Billy and myself sandwiches from the deli, popping by La-La Land to buy us all brownies with peanut butter morsels in them.

“Peanut butter’s the theme this week, babeeee,” Shambles had shouted upon my entry that morning to get my coffee and breakfast so I had to go back for treats for the boys if peanut butter was the theme. I loved peanut butter.

I was spending the day finishing up the stock take I hadn’t quite finished two days before, running back and forth to the front to make sure Dalton was good. I had just finished my task and was mentally designing the spreadsheet I was going to create on my laptop that night and present to Krystal. I was walking up the hall when I saw the front door open and Tate walked in.

I took one look at his face and tripped over my feet.

“Hey Tate, got news?” I heard Dalton ask almost the instant Tate arrived.

“Ace,” Tate called, his eyes on me, not answering Dalton’s question. “Turn around. Office,” he ordered.

I didn’t protest. I nodded, turned, hurried down the hall and waited for him outside the office door. When he arrived, he unlocked it with his keys and pushed it open, holding it so I could precede him. I flipped on the light switch as I entered, took several steps in and turned. Tate closed the door and put his back to it.

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