Tempting Tatum (26 page)

Just as I’m about to go find her to throw her over my shoulder and bring her back to bed, she enters carrying a bottle of water. She takes a small sip and then passes it to me. I’m not really thirsty, but I want my lips where hers have been. If Asher could hear my thoughts, well let’s say he has a lot of payback to dish out.

I hand the bottle back to her and she sits it on the nightstand. I pull back the covers, letting her know I want her next to me. Tatum gets the hint and climbs back into bed. She lays her head against my chest and I engulf her in my arms, holding her tight.

I sigh as she relaxes against me. “Thank you,” she says softly.

“For what?”

“For being you. For last night.” Her hand, which has been resting over my heart, slips around my waist. She embraces me. “I had another dream; you were there.”

“I don’t think you should be thanking me for something I enjoyed as much as I did. Last night was amazing; you’re amazing.” I kiss the top of her head. “As for the dream, all I did was hold you. That is something I also take great pleasure in,” I tell her. “You want to talk about it?”

She’s quiet for several minutes. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. The dreams are visibly upsetting to her. “The dream is my mind’s own twist to what I imagine happened. I have the details from the officers at the scene. Those details swirl in my mind.” She pauses to collect her thoughts. “I’ve had the same dream for months; up until recently, it’s changed. The outcome is still the same, but the scene is different.”

I continue to hold her. I’m gently tracing her spine, letting her know I’m here. I’m glad she’s talking. She can’t keep this bottled inside. My heart swells that she’s opening up to me. My girl’s coming around; at least, I hope she is.

“In my dream, I drive up on an accident. I recognize the car as one that looks like my parents’. I jump out of mine and run for them; I need to know who it is. I get close enough to see them cut my dad out of the car. His body is…” she trails off. “I can’t talk about what I read in the police reports. There are emergency personnel everywhere. Two policemen hold me back. I’m screaming at them to let me through. They won’t. Instead, they hold me back. They ask if there is anyone they can call, and I tell them Josh. Instead of giving them his number, I call him. A girl answers, and I hear him calling her “babe.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sure you know how the rest plays out.”

“You said it’s changed, that the dream is different? How so?” I ask her.

“It is different. It’s not as painful as it used to be. It’s the same in many ways. I still drive up on the accident. I still run to get to them. I still see them cut my dad from the wreckage.” She lifts her head and rests her chin against my chest so she can see my face. “It’s different because you’re there. Instead of random policemen holding me back, it’s you holding me. You and your team are on the scene of the accident. You are the one who holds me on the side of the road. I don’t fight you like I do them. Instead, I take comfort in your arms.” She lays her head back on my chest. I feels her tears seeping into my skin. “You’re there for me,” she says softly.

Her tears are breaking my fucking heart and the anger I feel toward her ex is boiling over. I take a minute to compose myself. I need to be strong for her when really I just want to beat the shit out of the asshole who hurt her. When I think I can speak without sounding like a possessive ass, I say, “I will always be there. There is nothing I want more than to be by your side.” I want to say for the rest of my life, but I know that would freak her out.

“You’re a good man, Blaise Richards.” She places a kiss against my heart.

Her alarm goes off, causing us both to jump. Tatum giggles as I reach over and turn it off. I smack her lightly on the ass. “Get in the shower, woman. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

She squeals and scurries off the bed. I follow her, slipping on my jeans. I watch as she heads to the bathroom; I want to go with her. Instead, I head to the kitchen to make my girl some breakfast.

In the kitchen, I survey the fridge. I gather what I need to make omelets. I’m just placing Tatum’s on her plate and buttering her toast when I hear keys in the door. Ember’s here. Our alone time is officially over.

Ember looks surprised to see me. “Hey. Something smells good,” she says.

“Want one?” I ask, gesturing toward the plate I just made for Tatum.

“No, thanks. Jackson made me a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit.”

“Things seem to be going well with the two of you,” I say.

She quirks her brow. “I could say the same for you,” she retorts.

I shrug my shoulders. “She needs time.”

I smell her before I see her, that sweet vanilla scent. She stops beside me, a faint blush on her cheeks. I bend down and kiss her temple. “Breakfast is ready.” I motion toward her plate on the counter as I sit another next to it. Tatum butters the toast that just popped out of the toaster while I pour us both a glass of milk. She carries our plates to the table; I follow her with our drinks.

Ember laughs. Tatum and I both stop and look at her. “You two are so in sync with each other it’s scary. You know the next one’s move before it happens.”

I smile at Tatum and shrug my shoulders. We’ve discussed the connection we both feel. I’m not surprised someone has picked up on it, especially my sister.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Guess what happened to me last night?”

“What?” Tatum asks her. She spent the night with Jackson, and if it has to do with that, I’m good. I don’t need to hear the details.

“Jackson and I were just hanging out listening to the radio and they had a contest to win four seats to the sold out Luke Bryan concert in Nashville. I won!” she squeals.

“No way!” Tatum replies, her eyes lighting up with the same excitement as Ember’s.

“Yep. It’s this Saturday. Jackson, of course, is going, but I have two extra tickets. Are you guys in?”

I love how my sister groups us together like it’s a package deal. I look at Tatum. “It’s your call, Tate. I want to be wherever you are,” I say.

“Awww,” Ember says.

I chuckle.

Tatum’s eyes meet mine. “You’ll go with me?” she confirms.

“Wherever you are,” I repeat.

Tatum addresses Ember. “Sounds fun.” She looks at her watch. “Shit, I’m going to be late.” She jumps up, grabbing her plate. I place my hand on her arm to stop her.

“I got this. I don’t have to be at the shop until noon,” I tell her, taking the plate from her hands. “I’ll walk you out.”

She nods her head and rushes to her room to grab her purse. I walk her to her car, opening the door for her. I tell her to have a good day and give her a chaste kiss on the lips. It’s not near enough, but I know she’s running behind with all the concert talk.

Walking back into the apartment, I see Ember has already started cleaning up the kitchen. “I was coming back in to do that,” I tell her.

“It’s fine. Hey, I’m going to reserve rooms for Saturday if I can get them. Do I need two or three?” she asks hesitantly.

“Two. I may not be willing to make love to her yet, but I want her next to me,” I blurt out.

Ember’s mouth drops open. “TMI, big brother, TMI,” she laughs.

This week has flown by. Blaise and Jackson have both been at the apartment every night. Blaise hasn’t stayed over again, and I miss him. Leah and I met for lunch; we had a lot to catch up on. She thinks I should take the plunge with Blaise. I distracted her with wedding talk.

Today is Saturday, the day of the concert. He and I are sharing a room tonight; I can’t wait. I sleep better when he’s with me. I’ve come to accept that. I have no idea what I’m going to do about it, but I’m no longer lying to myself. Blaise means a lot to me.

“I still can’t believe I was able to get two rooms right down the block from the venue,” Ember says as we eat breakfast.

“Last minute cancellation for the win,” I say.

She laughs.

“Blaise called and said he and Jackson will be here around noon,” I say.

What time is it now?” she asks around a bite of her bagel.

“Ten.”

“Shit! I need to pack.” She scurries from the table and down the hall to her room.

I’m packed and ready to go. I clean up the kitchen and take out the trash. Once back inside, I retrieve my bag from my room after a final check that I haven’t forgot anything. I’m wearing gym shorts and a tank during the drive, but I’m bringing a sun dress and cowboy boots to wear to the show.

I set my bag by the door and make myself comfortable on the couch. I hear a light knock at the door then keys. Blaise is here.

He walks into the living room; his eyes light up when he sees me. “Hey you,” he says, bending to place a kiss on my cheek. Those two words have become his trademark line each time he sees me. I love it.

“Hey, yourself. You’re early,” I say, lifting my legs so he can sit down on the couch beside me.

He shrugs. “I missed you.”

This man, he has no idea how his words affect me. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and I never have to wonder what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. Blaise is a “what you see is what you get” kind of guy and he lays it all out on the table.

He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. We sit in silence and watch the rest of “Sweet Home Alabama.” I love Reese Witherspoon.

About an hour later, there’s a knock at the door. Blaise brings our joined hands to his lips, and places a tender kiss against my knuckles before releasing me as he stands to go answer the door. I hear Jackson’s voice and smile. He’s almost an hour early himself. I can only assume it’s because he wants to see Ember.
We are lucky girls!

It doesn’t take us long to get to Nashville. Jackson drives straight to our hotel and we check-in. I try to split the cost of our room with Blaise, but he shuts me down, complaining about no way is his woman paying. Ember and I laugh at him. Jackson takes his side, of course. I try to reason with him, telling him I’m not his woman. That statement causes him to complain about “stubborn women;” this I laugh at as well.

After the guys get us checked-in, we pile into the elevator. Our rooms are side by side. As we enter our rooms, we agree to meet at four to grab something to eat before we head to the concert, which starts at seven.

Blaise slides the card into the door and the lock releases. He holds the door open for me. I grab my bag from his hand, and he scoffs, “Must you be so stubborn, woman?” he asks.

I giggle. It’s fun to watch him go all caveman “me take care of my woman.” We’re not even officially together. We have spent every spare minute together lately, but still.

“Oh, you think this is funny, huh?” Blaise asks me.

I try to hold it in, I really do, but I can’t. I burst out with laughter. “Me take care of my woman,” I say in my most manly voice.

Blaise smiles as he stalks toward me. He snakes his arm around my waist and leans in close to my ear. “Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice husky.

I shake my head, biting my lip to prevent further swells of laughter to break free. It’s useless; I can no longer hold it in. I throw my head back and laugh at his ridiculousness. Blaise retaliates. He picks me up by my hips and tosses me on the bed. His hands slide up on my shirt and find my ribs; then he tickles me. I squirm under him, trying to roll to either side to break free. When that doesn’t work, I flail my arms and legs like a crazy person; still he doesn’t release. I’m laughing so hard, tears are rolling down my cheeks. “P—please st—stop,” I sputter through my laughter.

Suddenly, he stops. I take a minute to catch my breath. I look up at him; his silver eyes are lidded with desire. It’s then that I notice our position. Blaise is lying between my legs and they are wrapped around him. This position is intimate. He moves a little, pressing his hardness against my core. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. Blaise rests his weight on his left elbow while he traces the line of my face with his finger tips.

“You are mine, Tatum.” He reaches for my hand, which has just brushed the hair off his forehead. He brings it to his chest to rest over his heart. “Right here, you’re mine.” Then his lips capture mine.