To that, he grinned, his mouth moved to mine and he murmured, “I promise, Red.”
Then he pressed his lips lightly to mine, touched his tongue even lighter to my lips and then his face moved an inch away.
Then he said, “Need a set of keys, darlin’.”
I nodded and it was me who took his hand before I led him to my kitchen where there was a Kokopelli key holder on the wall by the backdoor.
I grabbed a spare set and gave Tack the keys to my house.
Chapter Ten
Metal Detector
“You okay?” I asked Lanie who was tucked into the double bed in my guest bedroom, her eyes red and puffy, her nose red and swollen and about a thousand used Kleenexes littering the nightstand and floor by the bed.
“No,” she snuffled, reached out to the Kleenex box, snatched another one out, shoved her face into it and burst into loud tears.
“Honey,” I whispered, stroking her hair back.
I was sitting on the bed beside her, although for the last hour I’d been lying in it with her. She was inconsolable until about two minutes ago when she’d pulled it together and I thought it was safe to leave her.
Apparently it wasn’t.
Earlier, Tack had taken off after having a quiet word with Rush in the kitchen, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek and one on the lips for me. Rush and Tabby had hung around until Brick roared up on his bike. Rush walked me out to Brick’s bike and promised to lock up behind him and Tabby. I’d gone to Lanie, explained what had happened with Elliott and what Tack told me about him not including the fact he was picking Elliott up to have a “chat”. I didn’t think Tack’s “chats” were like any kinds of chats Lanie and I could comprehend and I figured Lanie would know that.
Not surprisingly, Lanie had not believed this at first. There was a drama where she accused me of being insane and blinded by hormones when it came to Tack.
Brick, who had been quietly standing inside the front door of the house came in and confirmed my words by saying, “Babe, what Cherry here says is true. Everyone on the grid knows Elliott Belova is a serious bad dude. I got no reason to shit you. This guy is whacked.”
Lanie had stared up at big, bearded, man-bun-haired Brick then she burst into tears.
I wrapped my arms around Lanie but looked up at Brick and mouthed, “Cherry?”
To which Brick grinned and muttered, “Creative.”
I rolled my eyes. Brick yanked out his phone and called some guy named Hopper. Then I helped Lanie pack a bag. Then I climbed on the back of Brick’s bike, Lanie climbed on the back of Hopper’s bike and we roared back to my house. They made sure we were in safe, Brick told me to lock up after them then the boys rolled off.
Commence wild-ass crying jag, not a small amount of ranting, a couple of tantrums (one that included Lanie throwing her two and a half carat diamond engagement ring into my backyard and I made a note to self to rent a metal detector prior to mowing my lawn the next time), Lanie texting Elliott about seven hundred times calling him every name she could think of and I finally got her to bed with a box of Kleenex.
Which brought me to now.
“You think you know someone,” she sobbed into her tissue.
“Oh, Lanie,” I whispered, still stroking her hair.
“I had to learn from a biker that my fiancé is whacked,” she wailed.
I bit my lip.
“I mean…” she pulled the tissue away, started to look up at me, her eyes caught on something across the room, they grew huge, she bolted upright in bed and screamed bloody murder.
I leaped from the bed and turned to the door where her eyes were glued and saw Tack leaning against the jamb.
“Hey, babe,” Tack greeted me casually over Lanie’s screaming which, fortunately, made Lanie stop screaming.
“Tack,” I said softly.
“You… you’re Tack?” Lanie whispered and I looked down at her to see she was staring at Tack.