Running in Place (Mending Hearts) (36 page)

Raising his hand, he curls his fingers around my neck, pulling me into him and kissing my mouth gently, but with so much passion, I crumble within his hold.

“I love you, Noah,” I say through my kisses.

Smiling against my mouth, he responds, “I love you, Tate. More than you could ever possibly imagine.”

Pressing my lips softly against his, a thought crosses my mind. I can’t suppress the giggle as it works its way out of my mouth. Breaking our kiss, he leans away from me, humor filling his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

I push myself off of his chest and smile as I look down at him. “You know, if you start a music career, and I have this reaction every time I hear one of your songs, this could be a
definite
problem.”

Chuckling under his breath, he grins in return. “Of course I’m starting a music career. What do you think I’ve been working on these past four months?”

Slowly, I trail my fingers down his cheek and then lean into him, placing a light kiss on the corner of his mouth before rising back to meet his eyes. “Finding yourself.”

He simply shakes his head and then cups my cheek with his hand, stroking it tenderly with his thumb.

“No, Tate. I was finding my way back to you.”

Taking his face into my hands, I pull him to me and kiss him with every ounce of love that I have in my heart, love that never ceased to exist, knowing for certain that although we’ve both experienced our share of demons, we’ve finally triumphed over them in finding ourselves, in turn finding each other.

I wasn’t kidding when I told Tate that I’d been working on getting my music career started while I was gone.

After spending a week or two soul-searching, I settled into getting used to my new-found life of constant travel — the motels, the long riding hours, finding out about and planning how to get to the next big music gathering. I settled in to living
my
life. And I knew what I had to do.

Work my ass off to become a full-time lyricist.

That’s where my heart is. That’s what makes me happy, and that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life if lucky enough to have the chance. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t put 100% into making that dream come true. So, in every single city I stayed in, I handed out music to any person who would take it and got the addresses for everyone else, mailing out twenty or thirty lyric sets at a time.

Two weeks after coming back to Waco, I received a call from a music label interested in buying some of them for a substantial amount of money. Now I, of course, was thrilled. Tatum, however, took it to a whole new level.

After screaming at the top of her lungs and jumping into my arms, wrapping her long-ass legs around my waist, squeezing and kissing me so hard I almost passed out, she went straight into action, setting up a celebratory get-together with friends and family. Even Mrs. Harris got an invite. Her screaming cackle in response may or may not have caused permanent hearing damage.

I grin to myself. Just the memory of Tatum and her overwhelming excitement for me makes me smile like a goofy, love-struck douchebag. Because it just so happens, that’s exactly what I am.

Exiting my duplex, which is thankfully located just a couple of streets over from Tatum’s, we’re hand-in-hand about to head to my current place of employment, “The Office” — the venue for this celebratory get-together. It’s funny how things work out. Trace did, in fact, need a bartender, seeing as though Tatum had just put her resignation in a week before my visit and, of course, I happily took her place. Let’s just say, the mandatory training sessions were…fun.

And a little chilly at times.

Turning to her and handing her my helmet, I give her a once over and shake my head. “I really think we need to take the Jeep. It’s too cold and that coat only takes care of the top half of you. Plus, there’s no way you’re going to be able to ride the bike in that dress. In fact,” I chuckle, hooking my arm around her waist and pulling her into me, “Maybe we should just take it off, right now.” Lowering my head, I press my lips against hers, tasting her as I dart my tongue over her bottom lip. Just as I dive into her mouth, she presses herself away and smacks my arm.

“No, sir,” she scolds through laughter. “I’ll be fine. I love the bike and I want to ride on it. Besides, I didn’t get all dressed up only to have you rip my clothes off within five minutes, buddy.” She glances down at her tight ass red dress which, by the way, looks fucking fantastic as it hugs every curve of her body. Plucking the hem away from the skin on her thigh, she pulls it with her fingers and lets in snap back into place. “Plus, it’s stretchy, see? I can ride in it.” As she looks back up at me with her big blue eyes, I’m forced to lean over and brush my lips against hers.

“Well, then, maybe it
doesn’t
have to come off.” This earns me a punch to the bicep.

“Fine,” I say, backing away from her with a mischievous grin on my face. “There’s always the cooler.”

She laughs again, but nods. My already rigid dick responds by tripling in girth.
Thanks for that, Tate.
Nothing like riding with a hard-on.

Taking the helmet back from her, I slide it over her sleek, black hair and buckle it under her chin. Standing up on her tiptoes, she gives me a peck on the lips before I watch her fine ass climb onto the bike with her five inch black heels and straddle the back of the seat.

Jesus, we’re going to have to take a
long
couple of seconds before we go.

After shifting awkwardly in my jeans, I carefully swing my leg over as she leans back, and take my seat right in front of her. As soon as I sit, she folds her arms around my waist and rests her head against my back. The feeling of having her wrapped around me — well, it soothes me. As the content feeling filters through my chest, I move my hand to her forearms lying across my stomach and squeeze them tightly, thanking her silently for just existing.

Starting the bike up, I give her arms another light squeeze before pulling away from the duplex, driving into the bar parking lot not even five minutes later. After stepping off the bike, I take hold of her hand as she climbs off and then remove the helmet from her head, hanging it on my handlebar before turning once again in her direction.

Lacing her fingers with mine, our arms swing together as we make our way to the bar.

“I’m so proud of you, Noah. You’re living your dream and making it come true. All on your own.” She smiles up at me and I grin back.

“It
is
exciting. But, Tate, what
you’re
doing is so much more. You’re going to make a difference in so many children’s lives. I know it. And I’m just as proud of you for following through with what you want to do, and for living
your
dream.”

She happily nuzzles her head against my shoulder as we walk together. Just before I reach for the back door, a car door slams directly behind us and a familiar voice creeps through the air.

“Four months, boy.
Four months
, I’ve been trying to track you down. I should have known you’d find your way back to
this
one.” Dropping Tatum’s hand, I turn slowly as I position her behind my back, her hands tightly gripping my leather jacket as I stand in front of her.

Over my shoulder, I say in a hushed tone, “Tate, maybe you should go inside.”

Stepping backwards, I reach around her waist and grip the door handle, jerking the door open and turn toward her, ushering her in gently. The beats of the music loudly thrumming all around us, I lean and kiss her gently on the cheek, her terrified expression breaking my heart. Shaking my head at her, I watch her chin begin to tremble and the moisture building in her eyes as it coats the base of her lashes. “I’ve got this, baby. Go inside.”

With a brush of the back of my hand to her cheek, I nudge her safely inside the bar and close the door, twisting to face my father when it’s finally shut. Running my hand through my hair, I step forward until I’m standing toe-to-toe with him.

After releasing a frustrated sigh, I look him directly in the eyes. “You didn’t find me until I was ready to be found. I
knew
you would come here, looking for me. It’s not a big surprise, Father.” I scoff under my breath. “How does that make you feel? Your grand plan of attack being completely expected by your
idiot
son. You must be losing your edge, old man.”

His brown eyes narrow onto mine as he grinds his teeth, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. “You want to confront me,
here
? I’d think you’d rather have your ass beat without the eyes of your
trash
upon us.” Snickering he adds, “That being said, that girl has more balls than you ever will.”

My eyebrows raise and sides of my mouth dip deeply as I nod my head, agreeing with his statement. “She’s got balls that’s for sure. Fortunately for you, you won’t have to see her in action tonight. She’s all fixed up and I’d rather she didn’t mess up her hot ass dress dealing with an arrogant piece of shit like you. ” Cocking my head to the side, I directly challenge him.

Already prepared for his attack, I block his arm just as it swings up from his side and grab him by the throat, laying him out across the hood of his precious Mercedes and pinning him with my lower body. Bringing his free arm to my hand constricting his throat, he flails like a fucking fish, the terror in his eyes I find extremely satisfying.

Lowering myself, I position my face inches from his as I speak. “You call her
trash
again, and I will fucking kill you.” I squeeze his throat until his face turns purple, and then release it just enough for him to manage a ragged breath.

“You don’t own me anymore, old man. Know that. Live it. Breathe it. I am faster, stronger, and smarter than you. You have absolutely
no
hold on me.”

Tightening my grip at the thought, I continue, “I hope you enjoy living the rest of your life alone, in the misery that you created for yourself. You deserve every single second of that solitude. Know that. Deal with it, wallow in it, soak it up, I don’t give a fuck. Just know that you will die alone exactly like
she
did because you gave her
no
choice and that you will do so without having me clenched between your fucking fingers. Never, ever attempt to contact me again. Do you understand me?”

Just as he nods his head, the back door ricochets off the outside wall of the bar as it’s thrown open. Several pairs of feet scuffle through the gravel before coming to a halt behind me.

“Let him go, Noah.” Trace’s voice somehow filters through my rage.

Squeezing once more, because I can, I send him into a coughing frenzy before releasing my grip and back away from him. His hands go right for his throat as he stands and hunches over, gasping for air.

Trace’s hands cover my shoulders as he urges me back, further away from my father. Turning, I look behind me and see them all. Blake with a beer in his hand, grinning, Trace as he casually watches my father with a definite lack of concern, and then Harlow and Alex, gaping from surprise, but with a hint of a smile in their eyes as they cover their mouths. All standing behind me, ready to be there if I need them.