Tack’s boys took my desk and desk shit to my house but my computer and suitcases to his. They set up my computer in his office. I spent my days working and tidying his office. Then I cleaned his house. On day two Tack took me to the grocery store, we stocked up with a mountain of food for his mountain hideaway and I started to cook fantastic meals for when he got home that took ages to prepare. This included desserts and lots of them.

If I wasn’t working or cooking, I read. At the grocery store I bought five romance novels and at Tack’s house I curled up in his big, slouchy couch and lost myself in someone else’s daydreams. I couldn’t be in my head, not just yet. This was because for the last year and a half most of my daydreams centered around Hawk and I didn’t know where to go from there because I never intended to hope for my perfect man ever again. So I needed new fodder for my daydreams and dreaming of being alone, planning hiking excursions and starting a ferret rescue didn’t do it for me.

I started my days wrapping up tight and sitting in the cold on Tack’s deck staring at the view while drinking coffee and battling the ache in my heart.

I ended my days in Tack’s bed.

Day one and two, I did this alone. Day three, when I had dinner alone, went to bed when the house was empty and he came home late, he joined me. He didn’t do it the same as Hawk. He didn’t touch the small of my back, turn me into him and kiss me. He also didn’t curl into me, hold me close and hitch my leg with his. Instead, he rolled me to facing him then he dropped to his back and tucked me to his side.

I should have pitched a fit or moved to the other bed. But because I was Gwendolyn Piper Kidd, and thus a stupid idiot, I didn’t do either of these. I rested my head on his shoulder, curled my arm around his belly and fell asleep.

Tack slept with me every night after that and came home for dinner every night too. I didn’t argue, I didn’t discuss; I just went with the flow. I didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a smartass when he was around, I was because that was me and I knew he liked it but I just kept doing it. But I also didn’t give him any in or any vibes he could misinterpret. I didn’t flirt. I just was me.

Except, of course, letting him sleep with me.

Hmm.

He mostly gave me my space, giving me my days and being there at night but not in an invasive, predatory way. He’d kissed me once, waking me up doing it. It wasn’t a tongue touch kiss, it was a kiss, tongue, heat and arms locked around each other. It sent a stronger electric bolt through me with other, no less strong, definitely sharp bolts searing through specific parts of me. It wasn’t a Hawk kiss which made me lose my head and my control but it was a freaking great kiss.

Then he’d lifted his head and whispered, “Gotta be out early, peaches, but thanks for settin’ me up for the day.” Then he’d kissed my nose, his ultra-cool goatee tickling my skin, and left the bed. No pressure, just a thinly veiled promise.

The kiss was great, the kind of great that, back in the day, would launch a thousand daydreams. But I was done with promises.

Now, he was taking me to Denver for reasons unknown but whatever they were, they required me being blindfolded.

The Expedition stopped and I asked, “Can I take it off now?”

“In a minute,” Tack answered.

I waited impatiently and then felt my door open. Tack carefully guided me out of the SUV to my feet and he kept guiding me as we walked then he stopped, turned me and his arm wrapped around my ribs, pulling my back into his front as his other hand went to the blindfold and pulled it up and away.

We were standing in front of my house. There were new windows, a new door and no visible bullet damage. The big bricks that had been painted maroon prior to my habitation looked like they’d been filled and the entire front of the house had a new coat of maroon paint. It looked like a house, not the byproduct of the aftermath of a battle.

“Surprise, darlin’,” Tack whispered in my ear.

“Oh my God,” I whispered back.

I heard his soft laugh then he took my hand and guided me up the steps. On my porch, he inserted a key into the lock, moved it to the other lock and then swung the door in. He maneuvered me in front of him as we walked in and I saw that what had been done outside had been way done inside. The plaster bits and bullet holes were gone. The walls were newly skimmed, smooth and had a fresh coat of white paint, so fresh, I could smell it in the air. But it was more than that. My damaged furniture had been carted away. The floors had been sanded and refinished. The mantels of the fireplaces on each side too. It was clean and sparkling and, with some furniture, habitable.

“These are yours,” Tack said, lifting my hand palm up and dropping the keys in it.

I looked at the keys. Tack kept talking.

“You can paint it any color you want, it’s primed.”

I tipped my head back to look at him and I felt the tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

“Tack…” I whispered, “I don’t know what to say.”

He grinned. “Welcome home, babe.”

Not thinking, I moved into him, wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug.

“Thank you,” I whispered against his chest.

His arms were wrapped around me and they squeezed tight.

Then he said, “I don’t think you get what I’m sayin’ to you, peaches.”

My head tipped back but I didn’t let him go. “What?” I asked.

One of his arms left me so his fingers could slide in my hair at the side and then hold it at the back of my head.

“You don’t feel safe down here, you’re welcome to stay at my place, long as you like. But we been listenin’ and we been diggin’ and your sister has gone to ground. Things have cooled down on that and you’re safe to come home if you want.”

I was certainly glad things had cooled down though a little worried about what Ginger “going to ground” meant but I knew what Tack was saying had two meanings.

“You’re giving me space?” I asked quietly.

“When you come to me, Gwen, it’s gotta be because you wanna come to me, not because you need to come to me. And it’s gotta be that way not just for me but for you.”

God, he was a good guy.

I dropped my head so my forehead rested against his chest and his hand curled around the back of my neck.

“Thank you,” I repeated into his chest.

“I see you wanna come home,” he noted and I nodded against his chest. “All right, darlin’, you get settled. I’ll go get your computer. Sheila can come by and pack up your shit. I’ll bring it all back down.”