Colorado 02 Sweet Dreams (68 page)

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, his hips surging up, his thumb left my clit and both his hands slammed me down so he was buried inside me and, through my second orgasm, I listened to his grunting moan.

I collapsed on top of him, my face in his neck and I listened to his breathing even as I struggled to even my own.

Then he reached out and, still connected, he yanked the covers over us.

I started to move off him but his arms wrapped around me.

“Want you to fall asleep on my cock,” he growled in my ear.

“Tate, I’m too heavy –”

“Don’t move.” He was still growling.

“Baby –”

His arms tensed. “Want you close as you can be.”

I closed my eyes tight.

Then I whispered, “Anything you want, Captain.”

“That’s right, baby.”

I settled into him, shifting my hips, causing a low noise to come from his throat.

“I love you, Tate,” I said softly into his ear.

“I know, baby,” he said back. “Sleep.”

“Okay.”

And if you’d have asked me, after all that happened that day, and what could assault my mind in the night, if I could fall asleep on top of Tate with his cock still hard inside me, I would have said no, definitely not.

But I did.

Chapter Twenty-Five

After Neeta

 “Ace!” I heard Tate bellow and my eyes went from the mirror, through Buster sitting on the vanity watching me arrange my hair in a bun at the nape, to Jonas, who was sitting on the lowered toilet lid wearing his black suit, the collar of his white shirt open, his little kid’s suit tie unknotted and hanging loose.

For the last five days, Jonas had stuck to me like glue.

I found this surprising. I didn’t know what he’d do but I sticking to me like glue wasn’t one of my top ten guesses.

But I wasn’t complaining.

“Ace!” Tate bellowed again and I whispered to Jonas, “Oh dear.”

Tate, like his son, had also stuck to me like glue. As the days passed, I realized both Jackson boys were behaving, as usual, just the same. One of their women had been brought low, no matter how they felt about her, Neeta was still one of their women, and they weren’t taking any chances.

Jonas gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, I returned it but hoping mine reached my eyes and I hurried out of the bathroom, hearing Buster drop down to follow me with Jonas. I grabbed my black pumps from the bed and stopped twice in the hall to lift up a foot in turn and shove them on. We all arrived in the dining area in time to see Tate, wearing charcoal gray suit pants and a midnight blue shirt open at the collar, slide the glass door open and walk through.

I looked down at Jonas and we followed Tate, me stopping for Jonas to precede me. I pushed Buster back with my foot and slid the door closed. I turned toward the deck steps just in time to see my father, my mother, my sister and Mack climbing the steps. Dad was going slowly but he looked fit, if much thinner, and he had a tan. All of them were wearing funeral black.

I stared at them a second, in shock. They knew, of course, I’d called them the day after we found out about Neeta. They’d called every day since and they knew the funeral was today.

I just didn’t know they were planning on coming.

I stopped staring and started running. I slowed my progress so when my arms closed around my Dad, I didn’t hurt him.

“Daddy,” I whispered.

“Honey,” he whispered back as his arms went around me strong and tight.

I was holding onto my Dad, feeling his healing arms around me but I heard Mom say, “Tate, hon, give Jeannie some sugar.”

I smiled over Dad’s shoulder at Carrie who smiled back. If Mom was talking in third person and asking for sugar, she was back.

Dad kissed my cheek and let me go in time for Mack to give me a bear hug then, while I was hugging Carrie, I heard Dad say, “You must be Tatum.”

“Tate,” Tate replied and I pulled away from Carrie but kept an arm around her to watch Dad shake Tate’s hand.

When they released hands, Dad looked at Jonas but asked Tate, “This your boy?”

“Of course it’s his boy, he’s the spittin’ image,” Mom declared and bustled up to Jonas. “Hi Jonas, I’m Gramma,” she announced then demanded, “Give me some sugar.”

Jonas stared up at her, clearly uncertain what to do with a self-appointed Gramma since, between Tate and Neeta, he’d never had one.

“She means she wants a kiss, honey,” I informed Jonas and Mom bent down and pointed her index finger at her cheek.

“Right there, hon, a big smackeroo,” Mom instructed and Jonas’s eyes shot to his father. Tate nodded and Jonas leaned in and swiftly kissed her cheek.

“Oo!” Mom shouted and shot upright, smacking her hand on her cheek. “Keeping that one
forever.
”

“Oh God,” I whispered and Mom turned to me.

“Neither of you girls gave me grandkids, I’m claiming Tate’s,” she declared.

“Jeannie, you might wanna tone it down before you scare the kid silly,” Dad cautioned.

“Boloney, he’s not scared,” Mom said to Dad and then looked down at Jonas. “Are you, hon?”

“Um…” Jonas mumbled which meant yes.

“Let’s get coffee,” I suggested in an effort to save Jonas.

“Great idea, I’m three quarts low,” Mack put in and walked to Tate, taking his hand, giving it a firm shake at the same time clapping him on the shoulder. “Tate, man, shit reason but still good to see you.”

“Same here, Mack,” Tate replied and Carrie moved in for a hug from Tate.

“Hey there, honey,” she whispered, giving him a good squeeze then leaning back, leaving her hands on his shoulders. “You doing okay?”

“We’re hangin’ in there, Carrie,” Tate murmured.

“Well, I’m not, we flew in late last night, stayed at a hotel by the airport, been on the road all mornin’. Then Gavin got lost –” Mom stated, forging toward the house.

“I did not get lost,” Dad declared.

“Hon,” Mom stopped at the sliding glass door and turned to him, “you…
did.
” She looked at Tate. “Sat nav who? Sat nav what? I don’t need a sat nav. Acting like he drove through the Colorado mountains for a living!” Then she threw open the door and disappeared into the house but we heard her shout, “Good God, look at that
cat!
” Then we heard her coo, “Who’s a pretty kitty? Come to Gramma, pretty kitty.”

“I’m feeling nostalgic for my hospital bed,” Dad muttered to Tate and moved to follow Mom, tousling Jonas’s hair as he went by.

I got close to Jonas, bent down and whispered, “My family’s a little goofy.”

“I can tell,” he whispered back, I winked at him and straightened.

Then I introduced, “Jonas, baby, this is my sister, Carrie and her partner, Mack.”

“Hey,” he said on a barely there wave.

“Hey, big man,” Mack said back, Carrie smiled at him and Jonas looked at me.

“Your sister is as hot as you,” he announced, Carrie let out a startled giggle and Mack straight out laughed.

“He thinks I’m a milf,” I whispered to Mack.

“Darlin’, you are,” Mack whispered back.

“Whatever,” I muttered.

“Let’s get inside,” Tate said brusquely, I looked at him, Mack and Carrie looked at me but Jonas led the way and Mack and Carrie followed.

I hung back, caught Tate’s hand and spoke when he looked down at me.

“Is it okay they’re here?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he answered then started to move away but I tugged his hand and he looked back at me.

“They just want to –”

He cut me off. “I know.”

“This is what families do, or, it’s what my family does,” I told him and he turned to me, his hand coming to my neck, his head dipping toward mine.

“Babe, I know,” he repeated firmly.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, searching his features.

He closed his eyes and his forehead came to mine before he whispered, “I’ll be better once she’s in the ground.”

I nodded my head, my forehead rolling against his and watched his eyes open as he lifted his head from mine. My hand went to his neck too and my thumb swept his clean-shaven jaw as my eyes watched.

“You miss the beard,” he muttered.

“I fell in love with you when you had a beard,” I replied.

Suddenly his arms closed around me tight and, lips at my temple, he said, “Fuck, I love you.”

I gave him a squeeze and whispered, “Me too. Well, I mean, I love
you,
I don’t mean I love me too,” I blathered stupidly and felt his arms give me a squeeze back as I heard his soft chuckle.

I held him, he held me and then he let me go, took my hand and led me inside.

Mom had clearly taken control for everyone but Jonas had coffee and Mom was at the island, squirting chocolate syrup into a glass at the same time she was stirring it into milk that was so far from the color of milk and so close to the color of chocolate that the milk was in danger of
becoming
chocolate.

“Mom, what are you doing?” I asked as I hit the island.

“Making Jonas chocolate milk,” Mom answered.

“You can quit putting in chocolate now,” I informed her.

“It’s not quite there,” Mom informed me back.

“It’s there,” I stated.

“Not quite,” she returned.

“Mom,” I warned.

She splodged in a thick, last squirt and announced, “There!”

I rolled my eyes, pulled in breath and when I rolled them back I looked at Jonas. He was grinning at Mom.

“Shit, Laurie!” Mack exclaimed sounding like his mouth was full and I looked at him to see he was eating one of the fudge filled, chocolate cupcakes with chocolate fudge icing I’d made for Jonas the day before.

“Mack!” Carrie snapped. “Don’t help yourself!” But Mack was ignoring Carrie and looking at Jonas.

“Big man, she made you Grandma Grahame’s chocolate fudge cupcakes, awesome,” Mack stated.

“She makes me chocolate chip cookies too,” Jonas shared.

“Awe…
some
,” Mack reiterated.

“And chocolate pecan pie,” Jonas went on.

“Did I say awesome?” Mack asked.

“And this red cake stuff that’s chocolate too but it’s red,” Jonas continued.

“She must love you, big man,” Mack proclaimed, throwing an arm around Carrie with the hand not holding his cupcake and yanking her close to his side. “Trust me, those are heavy artillery in a Grahame woman’s arsenal.”

Mack had been trying to take Jonas’s mind off the day’s events but his words had an effect even I wouldn’t have guessed and I pretty much knew Jonas liked me. I watched, heck we all watched his body stiffen then it turned to me and his head tilted back so his eyes could lock on mine.

But he didn’t speak, he just stared at me and the look on his face made my heart skip.

“Bub,” Tate called, seeing the look.

“Mom never made me pie,” Jonas told me, I heard Mack mutter an expletive under his breath but I crouched down and lifted an arm to Jonas.

“Come here, baby,” I urged.

“She never made me cookies,” Jonas said.

“That’s all right, come here,” I repeated.

“She never made me a cake, not once, even on my birthday. She’d buy ‘em,” Jonas went on.

“Honey,” I whispered, “please, come here.”

“You make me that stuff,” he told me something I already knew.

“I know,” I replied.

“You make me that stuff because you love me?” he asked.

“Yes, Bub, of course,” I answered.

“You love me,” he whispered.

“Yes, Bub,” I whispered back.

“Does that mean she didn’t love me?” he asked and tears instantly filled my eyes.

“No,” I answered firmly.

“Do you…” he swallowed. “Do you know I love you?”

I swallowed too and lied, “Yes,” because I didn’t know until just then.

“Do you think she knew I loved her?” he asked.

“Absolutely, baby,” I whispered. “She knew. She definitely knew.”

He didn’t move, but his throat did and I knew he was fighting back tears.

“Baby –” I was still whispering but before I could move or Tate could, Dad did.

“All right, son, you don’t know me and I don’t know you but I’m thinkin’ it’s time we changed that.” Dad put his hand on Jonas’s shoulder, Jonas looked up at him and Dad handed him the glass of brown milk. “Take that, we’ll walk, you’ll drink and we’ll get to know one another. You all right with that?”

Dad didn’t wait for Jonas to answer, he just guided him to the door, slid it open and pushed him through. His eyes went to Tate before he closed it. They communicated something I didn’t get since they were using male telepathy; Dad slid the door to and put his hand back to Jonas’s shoulder to lead him away.

“Sorry, Tate,” Mack muttered.

“Not a problem,” Tate replied. “This shit’s bound to come out.”

“Yeah, but not by me actin’ like a jackass,” Mack murmured, clearly kicking himself.

“He didn’t have a good Mom, Mack,” Tate shared and this so surprised me my eyes swiftly went to him. “She was a drunk and she didn’t give much of a shit about him. She’s dead but he’s in a better place with a woman who sits up at night and watches TV with him until he gets to sleep and makes him cupcakes. He’s strugglin’ with that, knowin’ his life is better without her in it, feelin’ guilt that that’s how he felt when it became permanent. He’s gonna struggle with it for awhile. It’s good you made it come out, he’s gotta let it come out and it’s best it comes out when people are around who’ll handle him with care.”

Mom, Carrie, Mack and me all stared at Tate. Then I moved to him, pressed my front to his side and wrapped my arms around him.

“Dad’ll handle him with care, Captain,” I whispered, my head tipped back to look at his profile and he twisted his neck to look down at me.

“I know that,” he whispered back and then his eyes went to Mom. “I’m pleased you’re here, Jeannie.”

“Family looks after family,” Mom replied softly, her eyes came to me and then went back to Tate. “But you already know that, don’t you, Tate?”

“Yeah,” Tate answered.

“You want coffee?” Mom asked, wisely changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Tate repeated.

“You take it black,” she muttered and walked to the cupboard.