“This,” he muttered then his mouth was on mine.
It wasn’t a morning mouth touch. It was a kiss, a serious kiss. So serious, his body moved back, turned mine to face him then it moved in again, pressing me into the counter. His hand cupping the side of my head slid into my hair to cup the back and hold me to him as his other arm locked tight around my waist, plastering me to his body.
It was such a serious kiss, and such a great kiss, I totally forgot Lanie was there, my confusion, weird response to Tack spending time with Lanie and the sleep that lingered and my arms moved to wrap around his shoulders. I went up on my toes and I went at it right along with Tack. Maybe more. I was off guard plus I loved how he tasted and I was hungry for it. So without the barest thought about anything but Tack, his tongue and his mouth, I drank deep.
Tack broke the kiss but he didn’t take his mouth away when he whispered against my lips, “Jesus f**k, Red, you can use that sweet mouth,” and his arm around me squeezed tight on the word “fuck”.
I gazed up at him in a haze thinking he could use his mouth too, thinking a lot more than my skin was tingling and also thinking I wasn’t quite done with his mouth when I heard Lanie clear her throat.
I blinked and the haze cleared.
“Ohmigod,” I whispered against Tack’s mouth and watched up close as the lines beside his eyes deepened in a smile.
This would have been fascinating but I was belatedly mortified and therefore I pulled quickly out of Tack’s arms and stepped to the side, my gaze finding my best friend.
“God, Lanie, sorry, I –”
“Don’t mind me,” she said, her mouth smiling but there was pain in her eyes. “I remember what it was like in the first throes of meeting someone. I remember it because it was a lot like what I still had with Elliott just the night before last.” She stopped talking, the smile faltered and her eyes got bright.
Oh no. I’d seen that look a lot last night. She was going to blow.
“Damn,” I muttered and Tack’s arm circled my chest from behind pulling me to him which was the wrong, wrong, wrong thing to do because Lanie’s eyes dropped to his arm. Her lips quivered and then she burst out sobbing, twisting a bit so she wouldn’t face plant in her maple syrup plate, she face planted in her arm on the counter but her hair went into her maple syrup plate.
“I think the pancakes wore off,” Tack muttered in my ear.
I yanked free of Tack’s arms, whirled and glared at him.
His eyes caught mine but my eyes caught his mouth twitch before he asked, “What?”
I slapped his arm, lifted up on my toes to get in his face and hissed, “You don’t make out like that in front of newly broken up people! In fact, you don’t make out like that in front of anyone.”
His face moved to within an inch of mine and he whispered, “Wrong, baby, I do. I make out wherever the f**k I want which means you do too.”
I squinted my eyes at him, whirled back around and ran to Lanie.
I put my hand on her back and carefully extricated her hair from the maple syrup.
“Honey,” I whispered, “you got your hair in the syrup.”
She sat back abruptly and looked to the ceiling, crying out, “I don’t care! Who cares! I can shampoo with maple syrup. There’s no one to care!” Then she flopped back down on the counter and I had just enough time to grab the plate and get it out of range.
I lifted my eyes to Tack and skewered him with a look at the same time I held the plate up and jerked it at him. He sauntered to me and took the plate while I pulled Lanie off her chair.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” I murmured to her.
“No shower. No work. No nothing. I’m going to eat Tack’s pancakes until I weigh nine hundred pounds and die and they’ll have to cut around your door to get my carcass out of your house.”
I so totally told you that when Lanie let a drama rip, watch out.
“You’ll feel better after a shower,” I told her, guiding her out of the kitchen.
“I’ll never feel better, Ty-Ty,” she told me and I sighed. Then I guided her to her bedroom. I dashed to the bathroom and did my business quickly. After I was done, I went back to her bedroom and guided her with her toiletries and clothes stuffed in her arms into the bathroom. As I was doing this last, I heard the knock on my front door. I focused on Lanie and got her situated and as I was exiting the bathroom to see who on earth was at the door, I saw Tack was there before me.
“Hey, Tyra!” Tabby called chirpily.
“Yo, Tyra,” Rush called after her.
I stood in the hall outside my bathroom in my drawstring pajama shorts and camisole with my wild bed hair staring at Tack and his kids in my living room and heard the bathroom door click behind me.