Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

TATE

What were the odds that the woman I’d rented my house to would be someone from my hometown? A girl who’d been thick as thieves with my brothers—even though she was a year behind them in school. One who’d always seemed to keep her distance from me as we got older, and I’d never managed to figure out why.

I took a moment to really look at the woman sitting on the couch before me. She’d put aside the ice pack, her penetrating gaze one of consternation mixed with curiosity as I studied her. She sure had changed, but the more I looked at her, the more I felt like an idiot for failing to recognize her. Her ginger hair had transformed into a deep auburn, thick and silky from what I’d seen of it since it was up in a loose ponytail, its length hanging over one shoulder. I scolded myself for failing to remember those bluish-purple irises of hers because they were so unique. Then I remembered how she’d felt in my arms when I’d picked her up and sat her in the chair on the porch. Charlie Adams might have been slight and somewhat gangly back in the day, but the woman I’d held, then brought into my home, had certainly filled out. The curves, her softness, were all in the right places, and when she bit her bottom lip, I’d had to fight with myself to keep my eyes off that subtle and innocent gesture of hers.

“Uh, guys?” Brycen interrupted.

“Bryce, I don’t think we’re gonna be needin’ your services,” I told him, smirking over at my guest. I leaned forward to grab my phone off the table, not once allowing my gaze to move from the woman in front of me. She seemed to suffer the same affliction I was.

“Yeah, kinda got that, bro,” he said on a low chuckle. “Safe travels. And, Charlie?”

The woman in question shook her head, as if trying to get back to the present. “Uh, yeah?”

“Make sure Tate leaves you my number,” he further expounded. “If you need anything at all, you call, all right?”

Charlie’s brows knitted as she seemed to think over Brycen’s words, then proceeded with, “No offence, Brycen, is it?”

“Yeah, hon,” he said, and despite knowing he was settled and happier than a pig in a mud hole, the nickname grated on me.

“Well,” Charlie licked her lips, “no offense, Brycen, but I don’t know you.”

“Good girl,” the man praised.

A spark of defiance I’d seen so many times before entered her eyes, and I smirked because if there was one thing I remembered about Charlie Adams, it was how she’d loathed being called a girl. And sure enough, she proved she hadn’t changed that much. “I’m no girl.”

Brycen laughed at that, and I could hear him typing in the background. “Honey, I wholeheartedly agree.” His tone was deep. Serious. “And if your driver’s license picture is even properly displaying a fraction of that gorgeous auburn hair of yours as what I’m seeing, I’m fucking thrilled about the sass you’re throwing right now. It’ll take someone like you to?—”

“Bryce,” I growled, but I couldn’t disagree with what he’d said. Charlie was showing that she had a personality that matched her hair, and reconciling that with all I’d heard from Amos, Mama, and my brothers over the years, albeit it had been a while since I’d heard anything at all, it only endeared her more to me. A little girl she was not. A beautiful woman who knew her mind, definitely. And it was sexy as fuck.

“Right.” I could hear the smile in the single word. “Stay safe, brother, and remember what D, Shane, and I told you. You need anything, you call.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No thanks necessary, but do me a favor, ’cause I have a feeling your Charlie isn’t gonna be calling me unless you explain a little about what we do,” he advised.

I chose to ignore his mention of “your Charlie,” and clipped a, “Will do, and stay safe.”

As soon as Brycen uttered, “Ditto,” I hit End on the call and pocketed my phone.

Charlie

What did this Brycen character mean by “what we do”?

And “your Charlie”? I wasn’t anyone’s. No one owned me, least of all Tate. My boss sure as shite on your shoes might have thought he did, and it’s why I’d left Charlotte, among other reasons.

“Thinkin’ we should talk, but please tell me you’ll be stayin’, startin’ with tonight.” Tate’s words knocked me out of my musings.

I bit my lip, then nodded. “I’ll stay.”

The smile that lit his face had my heart beating double-time. “It’s damn good to see ya, Charlie,” he said as he came around the coffee table, pulled me up to my feet, and into his arms.

He felt like home. Safe. And I immediately latched on to his back, squeezing him in return as I said, “It’s good to see you too.” Returning his smile, as he released me, holding my hands in his, I led with my question into why Tate’s coworker said what he had. “Now, what did Brycen mean when he said to tell me about what y’all do?”

Tate let go of my hands, gesturing for me to sit. I settled back into his couch, hiking a knee up so I faced him. He sat much the same way I did, his knee bumping up against mine, and his arm nearest the back of the couch settled on top of the cushions, near my shoulder as he readied himself.

After a drawn-out sigh, Tate began. “Bryce and I work together for Nightshade Securities. When I didn’t reup with the Army, Dalton, Shane, and Brycen, the majority owners to NSI called me up and offered me a job,” he explained. “To be honest, even though I knew I didn’t want to sign on for another four to six years, I had no clue what I’d be good at in the civilian world. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d last at NSI, but it turns out I’d found my niche…and an extended family. Brothers, really.”

I leaned forward as my interest was piqued. “You’ve been in since high school. Your uncertainty makes sense,” I told him.

He nodded. “I was in for a little over sixteen years, and twelve of those years were spent in Special Forces,” he confirmed. “I’ve loved my time servin’, but I wanted to be able to leave on my terms, not be forced out by injury…or worse.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d reached out and put a hand on the forearm he’d draped across the back of the couch and stared into his eyes. “Thank you for your service, Tate.” I licked my lips. “I know y’all hear that near everywhere you go, but seriously…thank you.”

Tate swallowed hard, his chin dipping in a universal sign of acceptance to an accolade.

“So the folks at NSI took you in,” I summarized, letting my hand drop to my knee, then urged him to continue. “What is it that y’all exactly do at NSI? Because I gotta tell ya, I’m a little freaked out this Brycen character was able to access my drivers’ license with very few taps on a keyboard, or so it sounded like.”

Tate grinned. “We specialize in security, but we’ve also assisted the local PD and FBI on missing and kidnapping cases, private investigations, cheating spouses, and all sorts of things in between. Most of the time, our jobs stay within North Carolina, but we’ve been sent all over, even internationally. Brycen specializes in computers. Hacking, programming, you name it, he does it. He’s a fuckin’ genius.”

“Wow,” was all I could muster. Tate had just blown my mind.

He shrugged as though what NSI did wasn’t that big of a deal. “I may have left the Army and the Special Forces, but I was able to utilize a lot of what I’d been trained to do on the home front. Beats being shot at on a regular basis, and I know that if the NSI crew and I were in a precarious situation, they’d have my back, just as I’d have theirs. Most of us are former military or hail from some form of law enforcement. Hell, some of the guys, Shane as an example, are still active local law enforcement.”

“Well, shit!”

He smirked, then asked, “How ’bout you?”

My brows knitted and my stomach flip-flopped. “How ’bout me what?” I hated talking about myself.

His smirk turned into a full-blown smile. “Well, ya know what I’ve been up to since leavin’ Magnolia, and unless Colton, Carson, and Mama have fallen into a hole in the back forty, which I know ain’t the case, I suspect life hasn’t been all ’bout breakin’ and breedin’ horses for you for quite some time.”

“You’d be right.” I smiled. “Left about a year after I graduated high school. Went to University of Houston and got my bachelor’s in physical therapy. Then I followed that up with my doctorate at Baylor. I was hired down in Charlotte after graduatin’, and been workin’ there since,” I explained, hoping what I’d supplied would be enough.

Tate’s gaze narrowed. “Why do I get a sense you’re holdin’ something back?”

Attempting aloofness, I bit my lip, then said, “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” And then I found myself on the receiving end of Tate’s exasperated expression, which had me spilling the beans, but I did so with protest. “Fine! There’s more, but?—”

As I looked away, Tate regained my attention by grabbing hold of my hands—which I’d clasped together on my lap so they wouldn’t fidget—and cupped them between his large ones. The heat from his roughened skin transferred into mine, eliciting a shiver that started from the base of my spine and ran up to my neck.

“Hey”—he leaned closer, just low enough that he caught my eyes with his—“Charlie, whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he tried to reassure me.

I shook my head, my hands relaxing their frantic behavior ever so slightly, but I didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” he said soothingly, “I’m not gonna push, but tell me this, are you in trouble? Is that why you’re here?”

“No,” I croaked, biting at my bottom lip. “It’s just embarrassin’, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss it.”

His lips tipped upward slightly as he whispered, “Sterner stuff,” before he straightened. I immediately felt the pressure to provide answers as to my where’s and why’s dissipate. But he didn’t let go of my hands, and for some odd reason, his touch left me with a sense of relief and comfort probably more than it should have felt.

Just as I was about to ask about his travel plans, Tate’s phone tittered an alert.

“Sorry.” He let me go, then reached back into his back pocket to fetch his cell. “I need to check that.”

“Sure,” I said softly, then I began to worry when his body went from a relaxed state to one of alertness, his expression darkening, then morphing into sadness. Concern had me asking, “Everythin’ all right?”

Tate

No, nothing was all right. Far from it.

“How much do you keep up with Magnolia gossip?” I asked her. In a town with a population a little over a few thousand, she’d know in no time.

“Talk to my daddy at least once a week,” Charlie shrugged. “Other than that, sometimes I’ll chat with one of your brothers or both if they’re together, and a few select others, but that’s about it. I’ve been gone for quite some time, and I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t really visited more than once a year.”

I nodded, then grabbed onto Charlie’s hand, lacing our fingers together. It was a more intimate gesture than the way I’d held her clasped hands earlier. Since we’d never really spent that much one-on-one time around one another growing up, her being four years younger than me, simply holding her hand in mine shouldn’t have felt so good—so right —but it did.

When my eyes met hers, I felt the need to spill my guts. It was as if something inside me knew I could tell her anything.

Clearing my throat, I started talking. “Mama’s been sick for the last few months,” I told her.

“Daddy mentioned he’d been dealin’ with your ranch’s foreman, that he hadn’t seen her in a while.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Roy’s been handlin’ most of the day-to-day, with some input from Carson or Colton whenever he’s needed Mama’s opinion on somethin’.”

“What aren’t you sayin’, Tate?” Her concerned gaze did me in, and everything just came out in a bad case of verbal diarrhea: Mama’s cancer diagnosis, her pending surgery, the chemo treatments, the fact I had no idea what my brothers and I would do if she passed, or what would happen to the ranch since I was in North Carolina and my brothers had their own construction business. “As it is, those two are burning the candle at both ends,” I finished, staring down at our clasped hands.

“My goodness, Tate,” she whispered. “C’mere.” As soon as she ripped her hands out of mine, she threw herself at me, her arms surrounding my shoulders. Peach and vanilla assaulted me as it had when I’d hugged her briefly earlier, and I couldn’t help but dip my nose in the crook between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent and absorbing the comfort she offered while I fought the onslaught of emotions.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly as she wriggled backward on my lap, then trailed her hands until she clasped the sides of my face, our eyes meeting, and that’s when I spotted the tears in her eyes right before one began its trail down her cheek.

Keeping a hand on her lower back, I reached up and swiped at the wetness with my thumb, hearing her breath catch before she seemed to collect herself.

“What can I do?” she asked, her thumbs rubbing sightly over the scruff covering my jaw. “Whatever y’all need, anythin’, anythin’ at all, Tate, just ask.”

“This.” I barely recognized my voice. “Just this. Let me hold you.”