Keeping What's His: Tate (Porter Brothers Trilogy Book 1) (19 page)

Parking, he turned off the truck. “Stay by my side. There might be trouble.”

She shocked the shit out of him when she gave him an anticipatory grin. “Really, who with?”

“The Hayeses. Greer won’t pick a fight with The Last Riders. We owe them for fixing me up and Knox not turning me in. The Hayeses are always looking for trouble, and Greer likes to give it to them.”

“Why doesn’t he like the Hayeses? They were always nice to me, even though we only saw them during football and basketball seasons,” she said, sliding out of the truck and slamming the truck door.

Tate waited for her at the front of his truck, holding out his hand. A warm feeling struck him when she immediately placed hers in his.

“Jessie was as good in sports as her brothers.”

“You aren’t their biggest competition in the county,” he answered.

The Hayeses were the most clannish in town, keeping to themselves even when it came to school. The two brothers and one sister were allowed to participate in the school’s sports activities, but remained homeschooled until they graduated.

“Jessie should be; they treated her just like one of the boys, and still do. She can out hunt and out shoot them, and she wouldn’t wear a dress if someone threatened her life.”

“She’s sweet,” Sutton argued.

“That’s what you said about the possum, and it nearly ripped my arm off when I set it loose.”

He held the door open for her to enter the bar. It was already filled, though it was still early. He saw Greer standing at the bar with his hand on Diane’s ass. The local woman was the biggest slut in town. She was constantly promising Greer he was the only one she was seeing, and inevitably, she would be found out to be lying when one of her lays would brag to Greer. He was constantly getting in fights and paying out for the damages the fights caused. Tate was getting damn sick of bailing him out of jail over the lying bitch.

Greer grinned at him when he and Sutton took the bar stools next to him. “You finally decide to come out and have some fun?”

“Been having plenty at home.”

Greer gave Sutton a smirk. “My brother keeping you busy?”

“Watch your mouth,” Tate warned his brother. He could tell from the dazed look in his eyes he had already had one too many beers.

Greer held his hands up in the air. “Didn’t mean any disrespect. Sorry, Sutton.”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not,” Tate cut in. His brothers were going to treat Sutton right, even if he had to knock the hell out of them.

“I’ve been waiting for Greer to pick a fight with someone. Didn’t expect it to be his own brother,” Mick quipped, coming to stand in front of them behind the bar.

“Hi, Mick,” Sutton broke in, diverting the tension between him and his brother.

“Heard you were back in town. Good to see you, girl.”

She gave him a sweet smile that, if Tate didn’t know Mick wasn’t interested in her, would have made him jealous. He had only seen that particular smile a couple of times, and he wasn’t ready to share it with anyone else.

“What have you been up to?” Mick opened a couple of beers, placing them down in front of them.

As Sutton described her life in California, Tate noticed the Hayeses studying her from across the bar. He caught their eyes, giving them a silent warning.

“Been a while since we’ve had a good fight,” Greer said, seeing where he was staring.

“We’re not going to have one tonight. Sutton’s here.”

“Good luck with that,” Greer said, getting off his stool. “Let’s go dance.” He took Diane’s hand, leading her toward the dance floor.

Tate thought it wasn’t a bad idea. When Mick moved away to wait on his customers, he turned to Sutton.

“Feel like dancing?”

“What do you think?” She jumped down from her stool, eagerly taking his hand. The woman used to love to dance when they had dated in high school. Mick was nice enough to let them sneak in the bar and dance for a few hours before it became crowded. He had never served them liquor, only gave them a place to hang out on a Saturday night.

Sutton slid her arms around his neck, pressing against him as the music turned slow. His hand went to her ass, securing her against him, and her head fell to his shoulder. Tate thought it was the most perfect moment he had experienced in his life. He didn’t want it to end, even when the music switched to a different song with a faster beat. Still, they didn’t move, staying pressed against each other, neither wanting the moment to end.

Tate stiffened with her in his arms when he felt a hand tap him on his shoulder.

“I’m cutting in. Pretty girl like her needs to dance with someone who knows how.”

Tate didn’t budge. “Go find your own woman to dance with. This one’s taken.”

“What does she have to say about that? Maybe she wants to dance with me.”

His jaw clenched.

Sutton raised her head. “He’s right; I’m taken.”

Tate’s chest swelled with pride.

Asher’s eyes went to Sutton’s hand that rested on his arm. “Sorry, Tate. I didn’t realize you had gotten married.”

Instantly, he understood that Asher had seen the wedding band on her hand.

“We’re not married.”

“Didn’t know the Porters fucked around with married women.”

He felt Sutton tense in his arms, expecting him to punch Asher.

“She’s a widow.”

The smirk on Asher’s face disappeared. “Sorry.”

Sutton nodded, and Asher moved off onto the crowded dance floor.

“I’m shocked that you didn’t hit him.”

“Nah, I’m not letting that asshole get to me tonight. I’m having too good a time.”

She relaxed back against him. “Me, too.” He barely heard her whisper over the loud music.

When the other couples on the floor kept bumping into them, Tate led her back to the bar. He suspected Greer was still dancing with Diane, but he couldn’t see him among the crowd.

Holt was dancing with Reva, a woman Tate had occasionally fucked on and off for the last couple of years. He hadn’t been with her in the last eight months since she had started hinting at him that she wanted a ring. They came off the dance floor and sat down next to them at the bar.

Tate finished his beer. “Ready?”

Sutton nodded.

“You’re not leaving, are you, Tate? I thought we could dance.”

“No, thanks, Reva.” He took a twenty out of his wallet, laying it down on the bar to pay his tab.

“Come on … Don’t leave. Holt can keep her company until you get back.”

“Don’t want another of Tate’s leftovers,” Holt spoke as Tate gave Sutton his hand to help her down. Tate’s hand dropped.

Jerking around to face Holt, he made himself give the man a chance. “I don’t give a fuck if you insult Reva—she’s not my woman—but keep your mouth off Sutton.”

“Don’t want my mouth on her. The way you two were acting on the dance floor, my dick would rot off if I fucked her. Heard Cheryl’s picked up the clap and been giving it out. Since you were with her a couple of months back, maybe Sutton should be getting herself checked out.”

Fury exploded in Tate’s head. The Porter temper was notorious throughout Treepoint. It was actually hardest to rile in Tate. Most of the fights he found himself involved in were because he enjoyed fighting.

With blinding fury, his fist swung out, landing a punch on Holt’s stomach. He fell back, knocking over barstools as the customers hastily moved out of the way.

“You son of a bitch!”

Tate didn’t give Holt time to recover before swinging his fist again, but it was caught midair by Asher who shoved him against the bar.

“Don’t fucking touch my brother!” Asher reached for the beer bottle he had finished, about to bash it against his skull, but Sutton grabbed his arm.

“Leave him alone.”

“Stay out of this, Sutton,” Tate ordered. He didn’t think the brothers would stoop low enough to touch her, but he wasn’t willing to take the chance.

Before Asher could make another move, Greer was there, jerking Asher away from Tate and Sutton. It took two seconds before the men began laying into each other. At the same time, Asher had gathered enough air in his oxygen-deprived lungs to come back for more. The two men fell onto the table next to the bar, knocking the customers and drinks out of the way.

Tate felt Asher land a lucky punch on his eye before he could put him in a stranglehold.

“That’s enough!” Mick yelled out, coming from behind the counter.

A couple of The Last Riders pulled Greer off Holt, who was steadily gaining momentum and was threatening to twist Greer’s arm off. Greer swung his arm back, trying to knock Rider off him.

“I’m trying to help your drunk ass.” Rider barely managed to let go of Greer before he succeeded in hitting him.

“I don’t need your help.”

“That isn’t what it looked like to me,” Rider mocked Greer, angering Tate.

“We can handle this ourselves.” Tate kicked Asher in the balls, forcing him to his knees.

“No skin off my nose. I wasn’t in the mood for a fight tonight, anyway.” Rider and Train moved away, leaving them alone to deal with the Hayeses.

Tate reached down, jerking Asher’s head up with his hand in his hair. “I’m getting tired of you two fucking with us. Do it again and Jessie is going to be looking for your bodies for the rest of her life.”

Holt wiped the blood from his mouth with his hand. “Big talk from a man who hid behind a woman to keep from going to jail.”

Tate went for him, but stopped when Sutton tugged on his T-shirt. “I’m ready to go home.”

Tate stopped, seeing the concern she didn’t try to hide. He turned back to Holt. “Next time,” he promised.

“I’m shitting my pants,” Holt mocked.

Tate waited until Greer found Diane so they could leave together. Diane got behind the wheel of Greer’s truck after he climbed in.

His brother hung out the window as he said, “We whipped their asses.”

“Drive him into town with you, Diane, and keep him overnight. He’ll wake Logan up going into the house.”

She gave him a seductive smile. “You two want to come and have a drink at my place?”

“We’ll pass.” Sutton tugged him away from the truck.

“I wasn’t going to accept,” Tate said as they watched Greer’s truck pull onto the road. “Who were you trying to get away from?”

“It was a tie,” Sutton answered as he opened the truck door.

He climbed in the truck, taking her hand back in his and linking their fingers together. He tugged her closer until she sat next to him. Then Tate drove out of the parking lot, but instead of turning in the direction of home, he made a right, turning back toward town.

“Where are we going now?”

“I thought we would take a detour before going home.”

She started giggling when he made a left a mile down the road.

He expertly guided the truck up the mountain until they reached the top. Tate parked the truck, looking out over the mountains.

“I haven’t been up here in years.” He shifted until he could look at her. “Not since I was here with you. I remember coming up here after we went to Rosie’s. Every time we came, I hoped to get past first base with you.”

Sutton reached out, unbuttoning his shirt. “Get ready. You’re about to hit a homerun.”

Chapter 21

Sutton smoothed her hands over Tate’s chest. God, she loved touching him. Every touch reminded her she was with him, that it wasn’t a dream.

She placed a kiss at the base of his throat, her tongue exploring the salty taste of him. “When you used to touch me, it was everything I could do not to give in to you. Now I can’t imagine not having you inside me.”

His hand went to the hem of her dress, shoving it out of the way before sliding his hand up her thigh and going to her pussy. “If I could go back in time, I would beat the shit out of Cash and drag you into my truck. You would have broken and told me the truth. You never could hold back with me.”

“That isn’t true. I didn’t have sex with you.”

“Only because I didn’t push you.”

Sutton had to admit to the truth in that statement. Tate had always let her make up her own mind.

A tear ran down her cheek at the thought. He had set an example for what she should have seen was a flaw in Scott’s behavior before they were married. It always had to be Scott’s way. Even when they were picking out the decorations for their wedding, he had done the choosing. She had ignored the warning signs and had paid the price, and so had Valentine. That was what she had found was the hardest to deal with.

“Look at me, Sutton.”

She raised her head to stare into his eyes and caught her breath. He was giving her himself without fear or misgivings. It was openly mind-blowing feeling that he trusted her, without fear that she would throw it back in his face. He didn’t ask for her to show it back or tell him how she felt in return; he was just showing her how he felt.

He gave her the power in the relationship to make her own decisions. His jealousy might have driven him to tinker with her car and butt into her meeting with Liam, but for a Porter, used to having his own way and knocking any obstacle out of his path instead of going around it, he had showed remarkable restraint.

“I love you.” She let go of the hatred she had felt for herself for not protecting Valentine better, for not being strong enough to get away from Scott, for being the weak, useless victim he had made her believe she was.

Her struggle and suicide attempts hadn’t been because of Scott, but because she wasn’t able to forgive herself. All the group members at her support meetings, friends at work, and her therapist had told her it wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t believed them until now, as Tate showed her what real love was.

Evil intentions masquerading as caring cannot be recognized when good has never seen evil before. Scott had been her first brush with evil, and God willing, she would never see it again. If she did, she prayed she would be able to fight it better than she had the first time.

“I love you,” Tate repeated her words without hesitation.

She undid his belt then unsnapped his jeans. “Make love to me.”

Tate helped her shimmy out of her underwear before pressing her down onto the bench seat of his truck.

“I want you to know that I never fucked Cheryl without a condom, ever. Her having the clap was a rumor Jared started when she divorced him.”

“I didn’t ask, because I knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Her lack of trust in Tate had been what had destroyed her life, and she would never make that mistake again.

“You’re so beautiful. It hurts my dick to look at you. Even after I fuck you, I can’t breathe because I want you again.”

“Me, too … I thought I could never enjoy sex, and now I can’t get enough of you. No one ever made me feel the way you do or ever will.” She smoothed his plaid shirt off his shoulders that gleamed in the moonlight.

He made her feel soft and feminine.

Sutton shuddered as he unzipped her dress, sliding it off in the tight confines of the truck. She wanted to make love to him until the only woman he could remember being in his arms was her.

She had learned his sweet spots. His neck was sensitive, which she now delicately licked the side of, gently biting down and marking him as hers. Any woman in town who tried to take Tate from her would find she wouldn’t stand around and let them take him from her again. She would fight tooth and claw to keep what was hers, and Tate was hers.

Tate rose up over her, sliding his dick into her, his hand going to the door over her head to brace himself to not smother her with his weight.

“Careful. I don’t want to fall,” Sutton warned as he began to thrust into her.

He buried his face in her neck. “If we fall, we’ll do it together. Nothing can hurt us again.” He took her hand, lifting it to his mouth, tracing the scarred flesh of her wrist with his lips. “Together, Sutton.”

“Together.” She wiggled under him, driving him deeper inside of her until she didn’t know where he ended and she began, melding them together as one.

He groaned as he climaxed, and watching his face and the expression of pure pleasure drove her to find her own orgasm. They then lay on the bench seat, enjoying holding each other.

Both of them jumped when a sharp rap on the window startled them. Tate reached down, handing her the dress that had fallen to the floorboard. He rose up enough for her to cover herself before straightening to roll down the window.

Sutton wanted to die of embarrassment when she saw the sheriff staring into the dark cab.

“A little too old to be making out at Lookout Point, aren’t you, Tate?” Knox didn’t make an attempt to hide his amusement.

Tate unconcernedly zipped himself back into his jeans. “I’ve seen some of those parties you and The Last Riders throw at the lake. At least I made sure no one was around.”

The huge sheriff’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Really? Then how did I sneak up on you without you noticing?”

“I noticed. I just wasn’t finished.”

Sutton’s mouth dropped open. She reached out, smacking him on the back of his head.

Knox started chuckling when Tate tried to catch her flailing hands.

“I’ll leave you to deal with her. Keep an eye out and remember we haven’t caught that shooter. Wouldn’t want you to get shot in the back while you’re … finishing.” With that, the sheriff returned to his squad car.

“I can’t believe you.” Sutton quickly pulled on her dress before reaching down to snag her panties. Raising her hips, she put them on as she listened to Tate laugh his head off at her.

“You jerk, quit laughing. Daffy Duck has more sense than you!”

“Come on, Sutton; it was funny as shit. You should have seen your face when he was standing there. It was your idea to make out in my truck, so don’t blame me for giving in,” he snickered.

Sutton was about to let him have it again when a strange expression crossed his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He started the truck, turning it around and driving down the mountain with hair-raising speed.

“Tate, you’re scaring me.”

“You mind if we spend the night at my house?”

“No, why?”

“I heard the death bells earlier today, then again when we were in the bar. I want you safe at the house where I can protect you and the others better. Dustin’s at the house with Logan and Holly, but we know Greer’s in town.”

Sutton didn’t question the request. He had once told her he heard death bells when someone he knew died. It wasn’t folklore among mountain people, but a strong belief handed down through generations.

“I don’t mind,” she assured him as they drove toward his house.

He had her call and warn Greer, who answered the phone, obviously drunk, but when she conveyed Tate’s message to be careful, he sobered instantly.

“He want me to come home?”

“No, stay put. I don’t want you giving anyone an easy target! I’m headed home. I’ll stay until you get back tomorrow,” Tate answered. Sutton had put him on speaker phone so Tate could talk to him as he drove.

“Be careful, brother. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Greer’s affection for his brother almost made him seem normal. And then… he blew the kind thought. “I’d have to do all the work without you.”

“See you in the morning.” Tate nodded at her to disconnect the call.

“Your brother is an asshole.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“Yes, he is. He’s the most self-absorbed man I’ve ever met.”

Tate didn’t try to argue back. Even he had to admit she was right.

When they pulled up in front of Tate’s house, the yard flooded with lights from all direction.

“I bet your electricity bill would feed the homeless for a month.”

Tate grinned as he opened the truck door for her. Sutton slid across the bench seat into his waiting arms, and he gently lifted her to the ground.

“Wait until I go to the hardware store and buy some for your yard. I like to know if someone comes snooping around.”

“It has to go off if an animal triggers it.”

“They do all the time. It makes them a better target,” he said unrepentantly.

“We need to have a serious talk about your views on wildlife.”

“I don’t care if they have two or four legs. I’m going to blow anything away that comes near the house.”

Sutton shook her head. She was never going to change his attitude. She was either going to have to deal with it or circumvent. She decided to buy trash cans with lids that locked. If she didn’t, her poor possum was going to be stew meat with the way Tate threatened.

She nodded toward the house. “Dustin’s watching from the window.”

“I know.” Tate kissed her soundly before releasing her.

She walked toward the front porch on her unsteady heels, nearly falling, but Tate caught her, lifting her high into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way.

“I could get used to this,” she teased.

“I’ll always be there to carry you whenever you need me. Even when you don’t, I’ll be there.”

Dustin was still watching them with his shotgun in his hands, ready to protect them if needed.

“The Porters aren’t perfect. You’re mean, stubborn, and would rather shoot someone when you’re mad, but you’re the perfect man for me.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t understand her reasoning.

He arrogantly summed it up with six words. “I’m the only man for you.”

Even a priceless vase had a crack or two.

“Tate, believe me, no one is like you.”

*  *  *

Tate sat up straight in bed, stumbling from the bed he went to the living room so he wouldn’t wake Sutton. Jerking the curtain back he stared out the window, his shotgun in a tight grip, he had heard the bells for the third time. Death had found his victim.