Mystery Man(151)

Then he lifted my hand, touched his lips to my knuckles, released it, got up off the bed and sauntered out of the room.

I took my time, got out of bed, dug through my bag, found my toothbrush and face wash, went into the bathroom off his bedroom and did my business. Then I didn’t bother dressing, my nightshirt covered me more than most dresses I owned. I walked out of the room and since the house was built into the hill and all the rooms were to one side the hallway was filled with windows and I saw the view.

The good news was there was a sheer drop off beyond the deck therefore difficult to execute a successful drive-by. The other good news was the view was unbelievable. And for the first time in over a week, there was no bad news.

I walked down the hall looking into rooms to my left. A bath and two other bedrooms, one that had a bed and dresser, one that was a messy office. Then I entered the open space. An open kitchen with bar delineating it from internal walkway opposite sliding glass doors to the deck and the kitchen fed into a massive living room that jutted out a bit at the front of the house.

Tack was in the kitchen at the stove.

I moved to stand by him, not too close, and once there I leaned against the counter. I looked down and there were six, perfect, silver dollar pancakes cooking on a griddle.

His head turned to me.

“Looks like you’re good at that,” I remarked.

He didn’t respond to my remark. Instead he asked, “Do you need coffee?”

“Am I Gwendolyn Kidd, am I breathing and is it morning?” I answered.

Shit! There it was again. The smartass.

Tack grinned. Then he jerked his head to the counter behind me.

“Make yourself at home, peaches,” he invited.

Oh boy.

“Do you need a refresh?” I asked.

“I’m good, babe,” he answered.

I moved to find mugs while speaking. “You want to tell me what that was about last night?”

“Seems we got the same thing on our mind.”

I had my hand wrapped around a mug and I turned my head to look at him as I closed the cupboard door. “What?”

“Babe, you came racin’ outta Hawk’s like the f**kin’ place was haunted and jumped on Dog’s bike.”

“Um…” I answered, dropped my head, grabbed the handle of the coffeepot and started pouring. “Why don’t you answer my question first?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I was there ‘cause I wanted an explanation of why you got kidnapped and not an hour later put up for bid. Hawk and I made a deal and the deal was he’s supposed to have your back so that shit doesn’t happen and it did. He fell down on the job.”

I looked at Tack. “His man got shot three times, protecting me,” I said softly.

Tack’s eyes locked to mine. “Like I said, fallin’ down on the job.”

Hmm. This was unfair and heartbreakingly true at the same time.

I went to the fridge and found milk. “Do you have sugar?”

Tack was flipping pancakes, he finished this task, reached into a cupboard and pulled out a half full bag of sugar, putting it down by my mug. I searched for spoons, sloshed in milk, did my sugar, put back the milk and stirred. Then I set the spoon aside and sipped the coffee.

Tack made good coffee too.

Hmm.

“Peaches,” Tack called, I looked and I saw he was watching me.