Sweet Dreams
Page 159
“Ace,” Tate repeated, his hand closing around mine and he yanked me toward the door.
“Right,” I mumbled, dipping my chin and avoiding Maggie and Wood’s eyes as Tate moved us to the door.
“I’ll just,” Maggie whispered, Tate stopped moving us and my head came up to see her running her hand through her hair, her other smoothing her skirt down at the hip, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “Just… um…” she looked at Wood then Tate and me and finished, “go check on the kids.”
Then she ran, actually ran out the door.
Tate and I watched her then Tate and my heads swung to look at Wood.
Wood’s eyes were locked on Tate.
“Don’t,” he warned low.
“Brother, I told you –” Tate started.
Wood cut him off, repeating, “Don’t.”
“She’s a sweet piece,” Tate remarked casually but his voice held a tremor of humor and at his words my head jerked back to look up at him.
“Man, like I said, don’t,” Wood growled and I looked back at him.
“Never shoulda let her go,” Tate returned.
“I’m tellin’ you –” Wood started.
“Wasn’t speakin’ to you when you jacked that shit up,” Tate said, jerking his head toward the door. “Glad I got the chance to say it now.”
“Jackson, seriously,” Wood bit off.
“She’s a sweet piece?” I asked, butting in, and Tate looked down at me and grinned.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“A sweet piece?” I repeated.
“Yeah, babe,” Tate replied.
“She’s the mother of Wood’s children!” I snapped.
“She’s still a sweet piece,” Tate, undaunted by my tone, reiterated.
I yanked my hand out of his and crossed my arms on my chest.
Tate’s arm hooked around my neck, he hauled me forward into his body and burst out laughing.
With Jonas’s jacket bunched in one hand, I kept my arms crossed and turned my head to look at Wood.
“I’m thinking nothing’s funny,” I told Wood.
Wood took in my stance as well as Tate and he grinned.
“I wasn’t, but I am now,” he stated.
“Whatever,” I muttered, Wood walked up to us, put a hand right to my face, his thumb sliding across my cheekbone then his hand dropped, he glanced at Tate, shook his head and walked out.
I kept myself stiff as Tate moved to my side and guided me to the door.
“Let’s hope that shit takes,” he muttered when we were in the hall.
“What shit?” I asked as we made it to the mouth of the stairs.
“Wood back with Maggie,” Tate told me.
“Wood said she was a bitch,” I told him.
Tate looked down at me as we descended the stairs. “He would say that, babe, he was tryin’ to get in your pants.”
“But –”
“He’s not gonna say he acted like a dick which meant she acted like a bitch in return and that shit escalated because they didn’t talk about it and work it out and then it got so bad, neither of them could deal so they called it quits.”
“What do you mean, acted like a dick?” I asked when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
Tate stopped me and explained, “He was workin’ through some shit, primarily him killin’ my Dad and his sister bein’ a pain in the ass. Maggie tried to help with the first, had trouble puttin’ up with the last, seein’ as she didn’t like Neet around her kids. Neither of them handled it well and they split. It was stupid, she’s a good woman, great ass, sweet as hell and she loved him.”
I looked beyond him, searched the room, couldn’t find Maggie or Wood and looked back at Tate.
“She’s very pretty,” I noted.
“She is,” he agreed.
“Did he love her?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” he answered.
“Do you think –?”
“He gets his head outta his ass, yeah.”
I sighed then informed him, “I sat with Bubba outside for awhile. He misses Krys.”
“He would, she’s a good woman too, he had it all and lost it by bein’ a dick, same as Wood.”
“Do you think –?” I repeated and Tate cut me off again, shaking his head.
“Crapshoot, Ace, Krystal can hold a grudge.”
I nodded then started to move around him but he caught me with an arm along my belly and pulled me back in front of him, his arm wrapping around my waist.
“You pissed?” he asked, his eyes studying me closely.
“No,” I answered and his head tipped to the side.
“You’re not?”
“I was…ish. I’m over it,” I informed him and he grinned.
“That easy?” he asked and I shrugged.
“You are who you are, Tate, and part of who you are is a guy who’d call a woman a sweet piece. Life’s too short to get pissed about stupid shit like that. And anyway, you’re right. I mean, I’m not a guy but even I can see Maggie’s a sweet piece.”
His body shook with the force of his low laughter and I knew he would have burst out with it if we weren’t at Neeta’s post-funeral bash.
I slid my arms around his waist as he burned out his humor.
“You seem better,” I whispered when he was done.
“She’s in the ground,” he whispered back.
I nodded. “That gives you peace.”
He shook his head. “What it does, watchin’ her search all her life, desperate for somethin’ she never found, is makes me feel she’s at peace.”
I melted deeper into him, muttering, “Right.”
His arms gave me a squeeze. “Gotta get my boy home.”
“Right,” I repeated.
He let me go, we went to Jonas, rounded up my family, Stella and Pop followed us out to the Explorer (Wood and Maggie both had disappeared) and we gave out long hugs. Jonas, Tate and I climbed into the SUV and Mom, Dad, Carrie and Mack climbed into their rental.
They went to Ned and Betty’s hotel.
Tate and Jonas and I went home.
* * * * *
Amber called while we were in the SUV on the way home, Ned and Betty phoning five minutes after we walked in. I hadn’t even taken my shoes off.
I was barely off the phone when Sunny and Shambles came by. They didn’t know Neeta so they didn’t go to the funeral but they wanted to check we were okay. Jonas talked them into staying for a cupcake. Shambles was Shambles, seeming a little less buoyant but mostly his regular self. Sunny was timid around Tate, avoiding his eyes and getting too close to his body. Clearly big, masculine men frightened her and Tate read this instantly, talking in a softer voice and making it easy to avoid him by giving her a good deal of space.
“Right,” I mumbled, dipping my chin and avoiding Maggie and Wood’s eyes as Tate moved us to the door.
“I’ll just,” Maggie whispered, Tate stopped moving us and my head came up to see her running her hand through her hair, her other smoothing her skirt down at the hip, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “Just… um…” she looked at Wood then Tate and me and finished, “go check on the kids.”
Then she ran, actually ran out the door.
Tate and I watched her then Tate and my heads swung to look at Wood.
Wood’s eyes were locked on Tate.
“Don’t,” he warned low.
“Brother, I told you –” Tate started.
Wood cut him off, repeating, “Don’t.”
“She’s a sweet piece,” Tate remarked casually but his voice held a tremor of humor and at his words my head jerked back to look up at him.
“Man, like I said, don’t,” Wood growled and I looked back at him.
“Never shoulda let her go,” Tate returned.
“I’m tellin’ you –” Wood started.
“Wasn’t speakin’ to you when you jacked that shit up,” Tate said, jerking his head toward the door. “Glad I got the chance to say it now.”
“Jackson, seriously,” Wood bit off.
“She’s a sweet piece?” I asked, butting in, and Tate looked down at me and grinned.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“A sweet piece?” I repeated.
“Yeah, babe,” Tate replied.
“She’s the mother of Wood’s children!” I snapped.
“She’s still a sweet piece,” Tate, undaunted by my tone, reiterated.
I yanked my hand out of his and crossed my arms on my chest.
Tate’s arm hooked around my neck, he hauled me forward into his body and burst out laughing.
With Jonas’s jacket bunched in one hand, I kept my arms crossed and turned my head to look at Wood.
“I’m thinking nothing’s funny,” I told Wood.
Wood took in my stance as well as Tate and he grinned.
“I wasn’t, but I am now,” he stated.
“Whatever,” I muttered, Wood walked up to us, put a hand right to my face, his thumb sliding across my cheekbone then his hand dropped, he glanced at Tate, shook his head and walked out.
I kept myself stiff as Tate moved to my side and guided me to the door.
“Let’s hope that shit takes,” he muttered when we were in the hall.
“What shit?” I asked as we made it to the mouth of the stairs.
“Wood back with Maggie,” Tate told me.
“Wood said she was a bitch,” I told him.
Tate looked down at me as we descended the stairs. “He would say that, babe, he was tryin’ to get in your pants.”
“But –”
“He’s not gonna say he acted like a dick which meant she acted like a bitch in return and that shit escalated because they didn’t talk about it and work it out and then it got so bad, neither of them could deal so they called it quits.”
“What do you mean, acted like a dick?” I asked when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
Tate stopped me and explained, “He was workin’ through some shit, primarily him killin’ my Dad and his sister bein’ a pain in the ass. Maggie tried to help with the first, had trouble puttin’ up with the last, seein’ as she didn’t like Neet around her kids. Neither of them handled it well and they split. It was stupid, she’s a good woman, great ass, sweet as hell and she loved him.”
I looked beyond him, searched the room, couldn’t find Maggie or Wood and looked back at Tate.
“She’s very pretty,” I noted.
“She is,” he agreed.
“Did he love her?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” he answered.
“Do you think –?”
“He gets his head outta his ass, yeah.”
I sighed then informed him, “I sat with Bubba outside for awhile. He misses Krys.”
“He would, she’s a good woman too, he had it all and lost it by bein’ a dick, same as Wood.”
“Do you think –?” I repeated and Tate cut me off again, shaking his head.
“Crapshoot, Ace, Krystal can hold a grudge.”
I nodded then started to move around him but he caught me with an arm along my belly and pulled me back in front of him, his arm wrapping around my waist.
“You pissed?” he asked, his eyes studying me closely.
“No,” I answered and his head tipped to the side.
“You’re not?”
“I was…ish. I’m over it,” I informed him and he grinned.
“That easy?” he asked and I shrugged.
“You are who you are, Tate, and part of who you are is a guy who’d call a woman a sweet piece. Life’s too short to get pissed about stupid shit like that. And anyway, you’re right. I mean, I’m not a guy but even I can see Maggie’s a sweet piece.”
His body shook with the force of his low laughter and I knew he would have burst out with it if we weren’t at Neeta’s post-funeral bash.
I slid my arms around his waist as he burned out his humor.
“You seem better,” I whispered when he was done.
“She’s in the ground,” he whispered back.
I nodded. “That gives you peace.”
He shook his head. “What it does, watchin’ her search all her life, desperate for somethin’ she never found, is makes me feel she’s at peace.”
I melted deeper into him, muttering, “Right.”
His arms gave me a squeeze. “Gotta get my boy home.”
“Right,” I repeated.
He let me go, we went to Jonas, rounded up my family, Stella and Pop followed us out to the Explorer (Wood and Maggie both had disappeared) and we gave out long hugs. Jonas, Tate and I climbed into the SUV and Mom, Dad, Carrie and Mack climbed into their rental.
They went to Ned and Betty’s hotel.
Tate and Jonas and I went home.
* * * * *
Amber called while we were in the SUV on the way home, Ned and Betty phoning five minutes after we walked in. I hadn’t even taken my shoes off.
I was barely off the phone when Sunny and Shambles came by. They didn’t know Neeta so they didn’t go to the funeral but they wanted to check we were okay. Jonas talked them into staying for a cupcake. Shambles was Shambles, seeming a little less buoyant but mostly his regular self. Sunny was timid around Tate, avoiding his eyes and getting too close to his body. Clearly big, masculine men frightened her and Tate read this instantly, talking in a softer voice and making it easy to avoid him by giving her a good deal of space.
