You’re safe, Lauren,” he murmured and my eyes came back to his.
“You weren’t safe with him but, honey, swear to God, you’re safe with me.
Whose SUV is this?” I asked once we were out of Carnal.
“Mine.” He answered.
I looked at him. “You drive a Harley.”
“Not big on puttin’ bad guys on the back of my bike when I hunt them down, Ace. Fucks with my street cred.
Stichwörter: tate
I see you again, it won’t be pretty. I find out she sees you again, you’ll be breathin’ through a fuckin’ tube. You get me?
Kristen AshleyWill you stay out of it?” he clipped.
“She’s holdin’ onto me, bud, I’d say I’m in it,” Tate returned.
Stichwörter: tate
You’re gonna find special, Ace.”
…
“Sometimes special doesn’t exist, Tate,” I told him. “And I’m okay with that.”
His lips came back to mine and when he spoke, he did it gently. “It will for you baby.
She doesn’t look like a Buster,” I declared, “more like a Princess Fancy Pants.”
Tate was bent and pulling a skilled out of a cupboard. His head tipped back and his eyes locked on mine.
“You call my cat Princess Fancy Pants, Ace, we got problems.
Perhaps I should go,” Brad noted and Tate didn’t release me but his head turned toward Brad.
“You think?” he asked.
Holy fuck, Jesus, shit, you’re Tatum Jackson
Kristen AshleyI tried to imagine Tate on ice skates. This vision didn’t form in my brain likely because Tate’s badassness reached across four states and halted such activity.
Kristen AshleySaw him come outta the garage at you, I knew,” he muttered against my skin. “I was strugglin’ with it but I knew then. I knew you were my girl.
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