Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain 2)

“Tate,” Tate replied.

“Awesome, Tate. This is my man, Shambles.” She gestured to Shambles.

“Dude,” Shambles muttered, eyeing up Tate and me in a way I didn’t really notice but if I had I would have seen it was like a brother would eye up his sister’s new boyfriend. Uncertain, tentative, holding back and ready to pass resoundingly negative judgment if the new boyfriend gave even a hint of being a jerk.

I ignored this, focused on processing my disappointment that Shambles had yet to hit on a chocolate theme at the same time surveying the case seeing lemon drizzle cake, lemon squares and lemon curd filled cupcakes and wondering what I was going to order.

I looked at Shambles. “What do you recommend?”

“Um…” Shambles mumbled, still eyeing Tate, still not quite certain how his judgment would come down.

“That’s hard,” Sunny put in, “Shambles is a master with lemon.”

After she imparted this knowledge, I stared at her. Then, knowing what it meant, I ordered, “I’ll take one of anything with lemon in it.”

Tate burst out laughing behind me, his arms going tight and his head moved so he could shove his face into my neck where I felt his beard tickle me and his lips kissing me.

Shambles looked at me then he looked at Tate’s head bent to my neck. Then he took two steps forward.

“Dude,” he called and Tate’s head came up.

“Yeah?”

Shambles swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he did.

“You look like you like her but Petal doesn’t look like she likes you. What gives?”

“Petal?” Tate whispered in my ear.

“She’s flowery,” Sunny answered him. “See? At her ears and her wrists and her neck. Flowers. Petal. Get it?”

Tate curved me around to face him and his eyes went from my ears to my neck to mine.

“Flowery,” he muttered and something about his deep, rough voice saying that word slid through me in a way that felt really nice.

Even so, I demanded, “Do you mind letting me go so I can have something lemon chased by coffee?”

Tate didn’t answer verbally but him not letting me go was his answer physically. His fingers came to my neck and I felt one twist a chain there, tightening it. His eyes watched his movements then they came to my face.

“That dick buy you these?” he asked.

“No,” I answered truthfully wondering, if I said yes, if Tate would rip it off which he seemed like he was preparing to do.

Then I realized, outside my wedding and engagement rings, Brad had never bought me jewelry. In fact, he’d not bought me many presents. In fact, even though my college boyfriend remembered my birthday every year, Brad normally forgot it, even though I always made a big to-do about his and spent weeks prior dropping hints about mine. Ditto with our anniversary. At first, I used to remind him. The last two years of our marriage, I didn’t bother.

“You got anything he gave you?” Tate asked as his finger released the chain at my neck.

My eyes slid to the side and I thought about it.

Then they slid back and I answered, “No, except a lot of really bad memories and the knowledge that I was stupid enough to put up with him for ten years.”

“Right,” Tate said then asked, “You done bein’ pissed at me, again for no reason?”

I felt my body get tight.

Then I whispered, “No reason?”

“Babe,” was his response.

“You have a child!” I shouted, trying to pull back but both his arms went around me and he yanked me forward.

“Yeah and you get to meet him next weekend.”

Oh no. I hadn’t thought of that.

I wasn’t exactly good with children. I wasn’t bad with them, as such, I just wasn’t around them much and, because of that, when I was, they freaked me out because I didn’t know what to do with them.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“He lives with those idiots but he’s a good kid, takes care of his Mom, puts up with that jackass. Patient. Smart. Loyal. Funny. You’ll like him. He’ll like you.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, not even hearing his words, instead, thinking of a ten year old Tate and wondering what on earth I’d do with him. I didn’t even know what to do with a forty-four year old Tate and I was used to dealing with adults!

“Petal, you okay?” Shambles asked and I turned woodenly in Tate’s arms.

“Tate has a ten year old son,” I told Shambles and Shambles’s eyes shot to Tate.

“Cool!” Sunny shouted. “I like! Kids are awesome!”

I stared at her.

“Kids are awesome, Sunny,” Shambles said quietly.

“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled. “Coffee. Multiple lemon treats. Stat.”

“I’ll get the treats, you get the coffee, Shams,” Sunny said on a grin and looked at Tate. “You?”

“Dazzle me,” Tate invited and Sunny’s grin spread to a smile.

“I can do that!” she cried and turned to get a bag.

Shambles leaned toward me and, with a jerk of the thumb toward Tate, he whispered as if Tate wasn’t right there, “Petal, dude’s into you.”

“Coffee, Shambles,” I prompted.

“I’m a dude and even as a dude I can see this dude is all dude. That isn’t a bad thing, especially with the rumors I hear around town. All of them. You get what I’m sayin’?”

“Shambles, honey, coffee,” I repeated.

“You guys havin’ a tiff?” he asked.

“His ex is a nightmare,” I shared.

“I missed it last night but word on the street is your ex isn’t too groovin’ either.”

This was true. I didn’t admit that because I heard Tate chuckle.

I leaned into Shambles. “His ex is a nightmare’s nightmare, you know, the kind where you wake up and you think you’re safe but then you realize you’re still asleep and you’re still in the nightmare but this one is way worse and finally you wake up with a jolt and your skin is all tingly and you know, you just know someone is in the room and you’re going to be brutally attacked and killed,” I leaned back. “That’s Tate’s ex.”

“She isn’t wrong,” Tate agreed.

“Bummer,” Shambles muttered.

“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled. “She visited last night at about five o’clock in the morning. She woke me up by shouting through the window and banging on it, calling me a bitch. I’d never met her before in my life. There was a lot of shouting and obscenities and then there was more shouting and obscenities but these were liberally mixed with threats. The last thing she told me was to watch my back. And she told Tate she would fight him until she died so he’d never see his son again. Now, I’ve had about five hours of sleep and I need coffee. Can you do that for me, Shambles?”