I’d seen it through the window of one of the biker shops in town. A large frame around which was a sepia photo of two bikers riding side by side into town. There was no one on the straight road for as far as the eye could see except those bikers, they had their backs to the camera and to their side was the sign that was still there that read “Welcome to Carnal”. Even though the bikes were older, the picture taken probably decades ago, the long Main Street of Carnal lay in front of the bikers and it didn’t look much different. When I’d spied it, I’d stopped and studied it through the shop window. It was awesome and it would be perfect over Tate’s bed.

Buster pranced in and jumped up on the bed. She stood there, blinking at me, her tail swishing then she blinked at the curtains at the window facing the bed that had a view out the front of the house. Then she collapsed on a flank, stretched out her other flank and delicately licked her foot.

I decided to take that as approval.

Tate sauntered in.

“They look great,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he agreed, coming to stand by me.

I twisted my head to look up at him. “Now you need some venetian blinds,” I informed him. “Just in case you don’t want blackout conditions but still want to mute the light.”

He looked down at me then he curved an arm around my shoulders and began to curl my body to his.

When my front was pressed to his, he stated, “I’ll get right on that, Ace, soon’s I pay off the million dollar lawyer’s bills I’ll be accumulatin’ in order to get Jonas.”

I bit my lip because I hadn’t thought of that. He’d spoken several times about his money situation. He had a son to win; he didn’t need to be buying home wares.

“Captain –” I started but Tate had turned me and was moving forward, pushing me backward toward the bed. I felt my legs hit it, Buster jumped away, I went down and Tate came down on top of me.

His face went into my neck and he declared, “Rods are up. Time for you to be friendly.” Then I felt his tongue slide along my neck.

My arms circled him, the fingers of one hand going into his hair as I turned my head to say in his ear, “Cake’s in the oven, honey.”

His head came up and he looked at me. “How long we got?”

I shrugged, my shoulders moving on the bed. “Ten minutes?”

His mouth came to mine. “Time enough to start bein’ friendly.”

“Tate –”

“Then you can finish bein’ friendly later.”

“Tate –”

He kissed me and I instantly got friendly, so did he. I thought he was friendlier than me but he might have been able to argue that.

We got so friendly, we were both shirtless by the time the buzzer on the oven interrupted our friendliness.

“Cake’s done,” I breathed against his mouth as I shivered when his hands slid lazily along the skin of my sides.

“Yeah,” he whispered then knifed up.

I’d moved on top and therefore automatically straddled him. He lifted us both up from the bed, putting me on my feet. I started to pull away to bend and get my shirt but his hands at my h*ps turned me and then they guided me to the door.

“Tate, my shirt,” I protested.

“Takin’ cakes outta the oven doesn’t require you bein’ fully-clothed,” he replied and I didn’t exactly agree but we were out the door, he was moving me down the hall and I was wearing nothing but a pair of khaki shorts and my bra.

I decided not to fight it. I was into being friendly and as soon as the cakes were out of the oven, I could go back to that.

We went to the kitchen and I opened the oven. The cakes smelled amazing, the house reeked of it and I forgot how much I loved that smell. I stuck my hand in, did the press test, the cake bounced back so I grabbed a kitchen towel and took them out, putting them on the burners of the stove.

I turned the oven off and looked up at Tate to see he was staring down at the cakes.

His eyes came to me. “Looks good, babe.”

I grinned. “Yeah.”

Then he moved and I was over his shoulder. I let out a little, surprised scream and grabbed onto his waist.

“Tate!” I shouted when we were going through the dining room.

“Friendly,” he returned.

He wanted to carry me to his bed? All right, well, whatever.

He threw me on the bed, came down on top of me and we started getting friendly again.

We were redefining friendly in a very good way when something strange happened. Something mammothly strange. Something so strange it tilted the foundations of all that I’d come to be.

Tate’s fingers were curled around my breast, my hand cupping his behind, his lips were trailing down my throat and I was out of mind and in my body when I came back to my mind with a vicious snap.

“So you forgive him for bein’ a cheatin’ asshole and a liar and a dickhead who’s so f**kin’ dumb he throws away a good thing but you can’t forgive me for sayin’ somethin’ stupid?”

My eyes opened and my body stilled. Tate’s mouth moved down my chest.

“You want sweet dreams, lose the attitude and you might find I’ll give you reason to have them.”

I closed my eyes and my arms around Tate flexed.

“Laurie, baby, wake up. You’re gonna fry out here.”

Tate’s lips moved along the lacy edge of my bra.

“You were sleepin’ in the sun, babe, not goin’ to the mall to get a phone. So I got you a phone.”

I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes tighter trying to focus on what his mouth was doing and block out his voice in my head.

“Yeah, Ace, f**ked you so hard you couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but sleep. Exhausted you. You were in my bed, couldn’t sleep, that’s what I’d do.”

I bit my lip and felt the tears sting my nose.

“I get back, Lauren, you’re on the back of my bike.”

My hands lifted and slid into his hair.

“Sucks, but f**k Laurie, it’s good to be home.”

My fingers curled into his hair.

“Then you shouldn’t have thrown her away when she was your wife. Now she ain’t. Now she’s somethin’ to me and I don’t let men I don’t like get close to her and I gotta tell you, man, I do not like you.”

Tate’s head came up.

“No way you can look like all the rest.”

“Laurie,” Tate called.

“Pure class.”

“Lauren,” he called again, his body moving up, his hand coming to my jaw.